Last night I attended my first ever laser light show. It is rare when an experience exceeds one's expectations. This was certainly one of those times.
This was Aaron's third Pink Floyd Laser Light Show, but even he said that this year's was so much better than anything he'd ever experienced previously.
Even before we entered the packed auditorium, I was giggling as if I were high. For the record, I was not, though I had been in close proximity to someone who had smoked. (No names will be divulged.) Aaron said that was great that all I needed to do was to watch someone else get high in order to get me going. Yes, it doesn't take much.
A lot of long hairs and spacey chicks. "Wow!" I remarked at my fellow audience members. "Some of these people look like stoners!" Aaron agreed that if you were looking for stoners, this would be the venue at which to find them.
I was awestruck throughout the two-hour performance. With the special glasses, light beams were pulsating, throbbing, undulating, and ricocheting across the stage and over our heads. Images from the classic science fiction film "Metropolis" and from "The Wall." One segment at the beginning of the production featured a black-and-white film of a man in a bed with wheels that just started moving of its own accord, down a hospital hallway and onto a runway. The man looked like a young version of Mike. So interesting because he died three years ago on April 16.
Watching all these colored images and light beams and even tunnels of light surround me, I was in an altered state. I was so spacey, but in a very good sense. I wondered if this is some of what I was oblivious to as a young adult, as I missed out on illicit drug use, rock concerts, and mindless sex when they were easy to come by and with few consequences. My youth was spent on other things: listening to "The Blue Danube" over and over again, collecting statuary pigs, weaving potholders, hanging out with my dog, writing poetry, hybridizing houseplants, gardening, reading about ancient civilizations and the occult, and entering trance-like states while gazing into the woods or the meadow. In fact, I attended my first ever rock concert about two years ago--The Who at the Long Beach Auditorium.
