Wrock

Wrock = wizard rock. Wizard rock is music inspired by, and mostly about, Harry Potter, his friends, and the world they inhabited. It's one of the strangest things I've ever witnessed.

Yes, witnessed. My friend is in the band Ministry of Magic (M.o.M.), apparently the next "big" thing in the Wrock world. I went to one of his concerts this weekend. Strange doesn't begin to describe the scene. I think it's best written plainly: imagine a bunch (~50) of tweens, teens, and a few young women jumping up and down to songs sung by men almost in their thirties about a little boy in a fantasy world. Throw in the random freaky college kid dressed up in a cape with Harry Potter quotes markered all over his face, a few little kids, and some stunned friends of a certain band member; voila, you have a Wrock concert. Dub-ee-you oh dub-ee-you, WOW!

I had the opportunity (?) to spend time with M.o.M. in their hotel room before they went on; a backstage pass, if you will. I got to hear all about the sl/nutty girls who have lists of band member's names that they check off when they, shall we say, find out what type of wand the musician has. I saw almost-grown men deem themselves "Gods" and objects of worship by said girls and friends. I saw a middle aged woman whose job is to 1) organize and promote these events and 2) act as a shield between these band members and the adoring "throngs," all while pretending that she's the sane one and not obsessed with those same band members.

Although I was completely shocked and a little disgusted by what I saw, I recognize that Harry Potter bands and their loose-Luna's are certainly not the worst things in the world. I do feel, however, that this concert is the closest I'll ever come to seeing a cult gathering. I was happy to see my friend perform his music (he is a talented musician), but I don't think that I'll be going to any more of his concerts.

Depulso strangeness!

The Past finds me due to weather problems in Philadelphia

Had a great vacation in Naples. It was good to see old friends and thaw. I hate returning and having to warm my hands every few minutes just to type out a blog post.

My return trip to KC was delayed in the Tampa airport. This delay precipitated a stunning "blast from my past."

While walking to use the restrooms before the airplane finally boarded, I think, *think*, I saw my ex-girlfriend sitting at another gate. Aided by a malaise of aimlessness during my senior year, a lack of social life brought about by studying, writing, applying, and interviewing for Medical School for about fourteen months, an unhappiness with my current job, and a feeling of fait-accompli with my life in Kansas City, I've yet to enter a serious relationship since that (THAT) relationship ended. I guess that has given me a half-sense of never being "over" her.

What is really frustrating is that, as I always do, I chose to walk away from the opportunity to 1) verify that it really was her (I only saw this girl from about 30yards away and noticed that she was flying to the home of the aforementioned ex) and 2) to be friendly and maybe even stop feeling angry/sad/confused/other teenage angsts about the whole affair. I have no interest in dating this girl again, but now, here I am, wondering if I was crazy to pass up the chance to say goodbye civilly. If it even was her. Crazy.