It’s no secret I love the Script. I mean I really, really, really do. The Wife understands. My friends understand. Dude has known all along. He is also a fan, but I’m not sure he would use the word love in the same context as I do. But if love implies devotion, admiration, loyalty, support and paying someone to spend time with them, well then I love them.
The Script kicked off their latest world tour in sunny South Africa. They played in Jo’burg, Durban and Cape Town over the past weekend. Tickets for the Durban show moved faster than the food at a lunch buffet at the opening of parliament. I got two of those. For the Dude and I.
It was such an exhilarating experience that I’m refraining from doing anything remotely exciting for the next three weeks. I fear that another surge of adrenalin might just kill me. I’m still recovering from all the excitement on Friday. I believe that when you reach a certain age everything slows down, like the speed at which you pee; or the speed at which you get out of a chair; even the speed at which you come down from a high.
Seeing The Script live was like scratching three things off my bucket list. At the same time.
Truth be told I was a bit anxious about being the oldest person there, but was relieved when I arrived at the venue and they were selling beer. Not only because I like beer, but more importantly because I knew then that they were catering for a more mature audience.
Looking back, the two of us must have looked like Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman in Rain man. Dude with the coolness and swagger of a
14 almost 15 year old teenager, taking confident strides in front of his old man, who was wearing a blue Script t-shirt, mumbling lyrics of songs he was going to hear later. Dude was avoiding eye contact, focused on getting his father out of public view. By the way, what does “Chill Dad” actually means? You may go ahead and feel sorry for him now.
We reached our seats, for Dude is still growing and his current length wouldn’t allow him to see anything on stage if we opted for the golden circle. It’s a sacrifice I was willing to make. By this time I thought I was going to explode and needed something to calm me down. I got me some beer. Dude settled for a coke.
Dude seemed to be fascinated with the people walking around in the arena below us. I assumed he was just as giddy as I was. Turned out, his fascination was focused on all the hot chicks. He wanted to move to Durban permanently. I couldn’t really comment on the hotness factor of the girls he was showing me, as that would make me a paedophile, so I did what any self-respecting father would. I pointed him to a few of the mature ones.
Finally it was show time and the band didn’t disappoint. Dude even forgot about the ladies for a while. The set list was exactly what I ordered, the sound was I-might-never-hear-again good and Danny’s interaction with the crowd, absolutely priceless.
But do you know what’s the best thing about the night?
Sharing it with the Dude. I enjoyed the four-hour drive, the countless laughs, our feeble attempts at karaoke, cracking up at the drunk lady, and the many high-fives throughout the concert. It was just the two of us, father and son @ The Script. Making memories that will stay with your old man for the rest of his life.
Dude, it brings me immeasurable joy and pride to be able to call you my son. The people who’s responsible for new words in the Harvard dictionary, still has to come up with the one that can accurately describe the love I feel for you.
For the moment, I’ll stick with Scriptitastic…