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August 01, 2008

That's The Ticket!

Ticket A few weeks ago my daughter let out a scream while sitting in front of her computer.  It wasn’t exactly a scream, more of that thing twelve-year olds do to convey excitement:  a yelp followed by a couple of ‘omigods’ and punctuated by frenetic hand clapping. I figured she had just seen a cute boy on YouTube so I ignored the commotion until she came running into my office, breathless, to announce that The Ting Tings were going to be in concert! She had a crazy look in her eyes, kind of how my husband says I look whenever chicken breasts go on sale for half-price at Costco.

The Ting Tings are the latest band she discovered through the amazing marketing machine known as the iPod Commercial.  I know this makes me sound old, but I remember the days when we used to discover new music by listening to the radio, or watching Soul Train or stealing our brother’s 45’s.  I’d kick back, relax and listen to my new tunes after I had finished washing my clothes down by the river and churning my own butter.

She immediately sent me a link to the website, and sure enough there they were, IN CONCERT LIVE OMIGOD. And best of all the tickets were a mere $16, which we all know is dirt cheap for a live show these days since that pittance can barely buy you a movie ticket, or a cd, or even a small coffee at Starbucks.

But as usual I procrastinated about buying those tickets, even though she diligently asked me about them every single day.  Something always seemed to come up that made me put it off, important things like that extra nap I was trying to fit in, or rearranging my blogroll.  So when the big moment came around and my husband pulled out his credit card to place our order everyone was pretty excited, almost as much as the time I finally broke down and ordered that tub of OxyClean I’d promised myself.

And then we saw that the concert was sold out.

You’ve heard of "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"? How about "hell hath no sorrow like a tween whose parents waited to long to buy Ting Tings tickets"?  She burst into tears almost immediately after seeing the ‘SOLD OUT’ banner appear, and continued crying as my husband furiously searched various websites trying to score some tickets.  He did find some on Craigslist for $95 each, and another pair on Ebay for almost $200, but there was no way we were going to pay those prices.  It wasn’t a total bust, though, since I did find a nice set of wine glasses and some ‘Like New!’ ski pants.

We felt awful and I could have kicked myself for not snatching up those tickets earlier.  I tried to make her feel better by promising she could play the CD extra loud on the night of the show and we’d all wave our cell phones in the air, but surprisingly this didn’t cheer her up one bit and she went to bed sniffling and sadder than ever.

After she had gone to sleep I talked my husband into making one last effort.  It was a long shot, but how about emailing the club directly and asking if they had any plans to add another show, or maybe even some extra tickets lying around?  Surely there was an undeserving stagehand whose tickets they’d revoke after hearing our sad story about our tween daughter's ruined life. I even contemplated embedding an mp3 of her muffled sobs coming from the other room but my husband said it would be overkill, and besides it would clash with the picture of the sad-eyed kittens he was attaching.

And we waited.  And when an email finally came in from the club the next day, I was wary and decided to read it before calling my daughter in. There was no need for her to see an automated response that said, “thank you for your interest in our venue try bud light it tastes great and is less filling.”

But I couldn’t help but let out a scream of my own when I read that, as a matter of fact, they had a front row balcony table that they hadn’t released to the public. That seated four people and would end up costing us a little more than the original price but nowhere near what they were asking on Craigslist and EBay.  I don’t think I’ve seen my daughter so happy – it reminded me of the time I promised her I would never wear my bathrobe again when picking her up at school.

So that’s where we’ll be going in a couple of weeks, and she’s counting down the days.  She’s already made a sign to wave at the concert, and her and my 10-year-old have already picked out their outfits for that night.  And of course there’s a moral to this story:

Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today, and if you do you’d better pray there’s a kind person working in the box office who’s got a soft spot for sobbing twelve-year olds and kittens.

This is an original post to Los Angeles Moms Blog.

When she's not procrastinating Marsha Takeda-Morrison also blogs over on Sweatpantsmom. 


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