Memorables

I'm listening to news of the Tour de France on the radio today, and remembering the race five years ago, when I just happened to be in Paris, and spontaneously decided to spend the afternoon watching the last laps. I'm not much of a sports fan, and I'd never watched the race on television before (nor have I since). But there is something about sharing a live experience with a crowd that just makes it special. Other once-in-a-lifetimes crowd things that come to mind include Rick Hansen's Man in Motion Tour, when I was in grade twelve, and getting up at five in the morning -- while at camp almost thirty years ago this week -- to watch the wedding of Lady Diana Spencer and Prince Charles. Back then, we didn't have CNN or YouTube or Yahoo to run repeats all day, so it was get up early with everyone else, or miss it altogether. And even though I wasn't actually at the wedding (though I was at Rick Hansen's Kitchener stop), there was something about watching it together, with everyone else from the camp, that made it more special.

I think that's why people still go to concerts. This week, I had the privilege of seeing Bon Jovi at the Rogers Centre in Toronto. Yes, I could have purchased a couple of their CD's for the ticket price I paid, and yes, the sound quality would have been better, and yes, I mostly watched the big screen anyway even though he was right there in front of me, but none of that would have given me that shared moment that comes from being at a live concert. When you are in a stadium, you just can't help but scream, and whistle, and stamp your feet along with everyone else. (Especially when JBJ flashes those pearly whites...but that's another blog post.)

Books aren't like that. Books are, by their very nature, solitary pursuits. But when you meet someone else who's been touched by a great story the way you have, and you connect over the shared enjoyment of it, a little bit of that shared elation shines through.