Sis-capades

I was looking for a fun event in Austin when, to my surprise, I stumbled across an Air Supply concert! Now, I can’t say I leapt at the opportunity without a moment of hesitation. Yes, Air Supply brought back memories of those angst-filled teenage evenings when only music could soothe my heartbroken soul (lost in love..). But that was a long time ago, and while I may have stayed forever young, could time have been as kind to them?

Still, my sister and sister-in-law were far less cynical, so we booked three tickets to the concert.

'G'raham Russell's solo

Once the tickets were booked, a warm glow of anticipation settled in, and I began looking forward to the event with a strange mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The weeks flew by, and soon it was concert time! That is, until the evening before, when we received the disappointing news that the concert had been rescheduled.

Apparently, the lead singer had contracted Covid—strike one against the illusion of agelessness, I thought.

While they gave us the option of a full refund, I had a different plan. Channeling the instincts that would make the Wolf of Wall Street proud, I decided to buy instead of sell. I figured that some folks would cancel their reservations, perhaps leaving behind better seats, and for the low cost of $10 per ticket, we could upgrade and benefit from their misfortune.

I was right. And though I was briefly tempted to switch careers to day trading, I settled instead for the upgraded seats.

Unfortunately, my sister-in-law couldn’t make the rescheduled date, so it was just my sister and me attending the concert. As soon as we entered the hall, I was struck by déjà vu—it had been nearly 30 years since she and I attended our first concert together! Back then, it was M.L.T.R. (Michael Learns to Rock, for the uninitiated, though if the abbreviation didn’t help, I doubt my spelling it out will ring any bells).

I must admit, we were guilty of a little deception that time. My mother, while brilliant in trigonometry and calculus, was a bit naïve when it came to world-wisdom and somehow believed we were attending something akin to a symphony—an audience politely seated and treated to a few hours of cultured, serene music.

Russell Hitchcock sounded amazing

Needless to say, our ruse was discovered—though thankfully, after the concert. My sister and I found ourselves in quite the predicament, but I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say we were blameless in all but that one, tiny act of harmless deception. ;)

Back to Air Supply. At our "mature" age (no, I’m not going to divulge the numbers here), we were finally free from parental authority and could enjoy the evening without the need for prevarication. We had a wonderful time, singing along with the rest of the audience to the songs we hadn’t heard in decades. Yes, the rest of the audience, unsurprisingly, was around our age too.

I was not kidding about our seats!

And yet, if I’m being honest, there was something missing from the experience—something I hadn’t expected: that thrilling, delicious sense of doing something forbidden. Eve would understand!

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