One of the most surprising things about middle age is my love for summer concerts on the green.
For those of you who didn’t grow up in a Norman Rockwell painting, concerts on the green are free family-friendly music shows put on by suburban towns once a week in the summer (weather permitting).
They traditionally take place in the town center but can also be located in a public park, multi-purpose athletic field, or appropriately picturesque setting.
When I lived in Norwalk, Connecticut they were held right on the shore of Long Island Sound, but I never went because I wasn’t yet middle aged.
I merely passed by those concerts in between watching my fiance’s softball games and joining friends for dinner and drinks. So much has changed in so few years.
Concerts on the green typically feature a semi-pro band playing the hits our parents used to play on jukeboxes. Sometimes you get a band that really rocks and other times you get a woman singing Billy Joel songs in a cape.
I spent last summer as a stay-at-home dad to a six-month-old baby girl. Concerts on the green were often the highlight of our week. It might not be the coolest thing but it checked off all my boxes: free, safe, kid-friendly, easy to flee in the event of a meltdown, and a welcome break from daily routines.
We frequented two different series: one in front of Wallingford town hall surrounded by local businesses and families on the go, and the other on a hillside in the neighboring town of Durham where town-employed teenagers in tie-dyed shirts handed out hula hoops and bubbles next to a food truck.
It isn’t always easy finding something in common with a six-month-old but Don McLean lyrics worked. Everyone comes together when they hear “Bye Bye Miss American Pie,” even babies.
It’s comforting to share iconic music with a new generation. The songs that everyone knows but nobody has on their phones by artists like Chubby Checker and Fleetwood Mac.
And then there are the songs that take on new significance. Every dad should have a chance to rock his baby daughter on a blanket while an accountant by day/musician by night sings “My Girl.”
Though they’re incredibly cheesy, often poorly produced, and full of eccentric characters, concerts on the green are a special part of summer. I’m all about that BYOC lifestyle (bring your own chair).
When it became clear that the Covid-19 pandemic was going to steamroll right through summer, I worried that there wouldn’t be any summer concerts on the green.
Happily, my current town of Wallingford got really creative with their Twilight Tunes series. They leaned into the problem and produced socially distant concerts every Tuesday night in August.
Socially distanced concerts combine two of my favorite things: being around other people and being personally left alone. If that sounds like a contradiction to you, we’re not in the same tribe.
Instead of holding their concerts on a tightly-packed green in front of the town hall, they moved them to a field in between their parks and recreation office and a company that manufactures molded plastics.
The extra room allowed them to control the space with admission limited to a maximum of 150 people with pre-ordered tickets. Each group could select any available 15×15 foot square to claim as their own.
The logistics were challenging. It took a global pandemic to finally answer the question: “How many teenage employees does it take to tell you to turn left?” Three; but they’re all texting so you still end up turning around when the usual entrance is blocked.
Though the setup was different, the fundamentals were the same. Music mixing with crickets while the summer heat dissipates with the setting sun. A community coming together under the tapestry of the sky as it goes from blue to orange to black.
Each of Wallingford’s concerts sold out, which created a growing alt-scene on the grassy knoll across from the park; free birds who’d never be caged. These mostly appeared to be dating divorcees passing through in their convertibles on a whim.
The performers were obviously excited to have a gig too. Their energy was great, but I felt bad for the ones who couldn’t tailor their expectations to meet their audience’s reality.
No matter how many times you ask a socially distanced group of senior citizens to “make some noise,” it isn’t going to happen. They’re worried about respiratory droplets!
This week was our final Twilight Tunes concert of the season. It’s a little bittersweet to say goodbye but I’m incredibly thankful for the opportunity to sit (appropriately spaced) in the setting sun and soak in the communal joy of a few long summer nights.
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