So.

29 years ago – on May 31st – I went to my first real rock concert.

When I found out that tickets were to go on sale – I asked my parents if I could go. My mother – being extremely savvy, and also rather on top of what was going on in the music world – uttered the fateful words.

“Sure. That is, if you can get tickets…”

Which I promptly managed to procure.

(There’s really nothing like a determined 13 year old – may I point out.)

So – at the tender age of 13 – I, and a herd of little friends went to see Led Zeppelin at the Greensboro Coliseum on their 1977 tour. We felt important. We felt grown up. We felt invincible.

It was festival seating – before the Who disaster in 1979 – and rather unlike anything we had ever encountered. We made it to the – I don’t know – 5th row maybe? (Again – 13 years old, small and determined) and I would have made it to the front row had not one of our number passed out. The crush was pretty horrific – I recall being moved along by the crowd without my feet touching the floor. I recall feeling a little less invincible.

I was faced with an awful choice – awful for a 13 year old Led Zeppelin fanatic, that is…but I gave up visions of the front row to drag her to safety.

Safety has interesting faces, though. In a crowd of thousands, I managed to drag her straight to where friends Jon and Mike were sitting with Mike’s big brother Chris and his bandmate Will. Safe harbor. And an awesome view. Better than anything down front.

The show started late – very late. But to make up for it they played for 3-1/2 hours – til about 1:30 a.m. They played the usual standards – ‘Rain Song,’ ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ ‘Dazed and Confused.’ But they played ‘That’s the Way,’ ‘Bron Y Aur Stomp’ and ‘Battle of Evermore’ too. Songs that evoke things that are impossible to explain. Songs that first made me understand the divinity that lies within music. Heady stuff for a 13-year-old. Especially this 13-year-old.

Pretty awful if you’re the 13-year-old’s parents. Luckily the moms had formed an impromptu support group and the designated mom to pick us up called in progress reports to keep the other moms sane. They probably all aged quite a bit that night.

So every year on May 31 or sometime near it – I toast the band, I think fondly on friends.

And I thank my parents.