To Muse

If a girl's phone dies at the start of her big night out, did she really see Muse in concert? 

Was she really in a corporate box, where the seats are really comfy and you get FREE grog and gourmet food and stuff? Can she still get a LIKE for that?!?

With death imminent – "battery critically low! shutting down will commence in 3, 2…" – my actions and thoughts were focused on the practical:  

I'm still a 15-minute walk away, how am I going to meet Jon? / I'll have to phone him from a public pay phone / I don't know my husband's number! / Quick, memorise his number before your phone dies / memorise, memorise (the screen's too dark!), memorise, memorise / I've been walking for 10 minutes now and I haven't seen a pay phone / 04555 4455, 04555 4455, 4545 or 4455? no, 4455, that’s it / OMG WHERE HAVE ALL THE PUBLIC PAY PHONES GONE??!! / Excuse me, kind sir, fellow concert-goer on the walkway from the MCG to the Tennis Centre, may I borrow your phone? / Husband, please – just this once – for god's sake answer an unknown number… 

'"even dusted off some heels' #muse"
– failed to upload

(He did, we found each other; it was an undocumented moment.)

For the rest of the evening I didn't need my phone, but I longed for it. I tried to tell myself that instead of live-tweeting my night out, I was living it; it didn't matter if no one could heart my Insta-photos, retweet my Muse-ings or like my Facebook check-in and updates. I could see, hear and taste my life; I would soak it all in, retro style.

In no particular order, here are the moments when I instinctively reached for my phone:  

#1 Warm-up act Birds of Tokyo sing their "On we march with our lanterns on" song and the arena becomes a sea of torches, waving to and fro in time to the music. It was beautiful and I wanted a photo of it, and to add to the starry canvas with my own light.

I first thought people had been given glosticks or something upon entry, before realising it was actually Flashlight app x 50,000, apparently the way it's done these days. And then I mourned the loss of cigarette lighter waving. Sure, the phone apps were brighter, and it was arguably a more-impressive sight – and a smoke-free environment, which is cool now I've quit the cancer sticks –  but it was kind of sterile, like virtual reality sex (I imagine). Where's the danger? The potential burning of your thumb from keeping the flame held aloft, gas valve lever depressed for a whole song?

#2 Muse – the show was awesome, the lighting and lasers and big screens and smoke machine and the sound all brilliant and you know when you're there and you're hearing it and seeing it and feeling the vibe and buzzing cos you're on your third or fourth glass of bubbles and you just want to share with others all of this STUFF that you're experiencing.

As I pondered that I couldn't share this moment, I realised that that was a good thing. Really. Other people’s concert snaps are shit. Like someone telling you all about the amazing dream they had last night. The best band on earth will still be just tiny ants on a stage in the distance. The most awesome lights/lasers/screens/smoke/jets of fire will not see justice done, not even through a Hefe filter with border. 

Filming a concert on your phone? It’ll sound tinny and shit if you can hear the band at all; more likely it’ll be the girl next to you who won't stop screaming and whooping, and let's face it – you're no cameraman. Hello band, ceiling, floor.  

#3 The food – thank you, Jesus! – the corporate box food

Yes, I do foodie snaps in the cafes I frequent, I am that wanker… But it's because I then blog about the food, so I'm really not that much of a wanker… Or does that make me even more of a wanker? … Anyway, there was a moment last night where I had a gorgeous plate of food in front of me and a glass of red and if I'd angled the phone just so I could have photographed the food and the glass with the stage and the crowd in the background. If I somehow could’ve gotten my face down next to the plate it would have been a selfie/foodie/drinkie/concertie! I could have hashtagged the shit out of that muthafuka!!  

While I lamented this lost "wish-you-were-here-not-really-just-wish-you-could-see-what-I'm-doing-right-now-oh-wait-you-can-see-cos-here's-a-photo-check-me-out-my-life-is-awesome-please-like" moment, a fella from the cheap seats – a real proper Muse fan who'd paid for his ticket – approaches our box:

“Excuse me, guys, but it’s a really long way down to the bar and the lines are huge – can I possibly somehow buy four beers from you guys in there?”

'"Waiting for the tram" #muse' – my one and only
Muse-ing before blackout

No, no you can’t. A sad shake of the head from the girl next to me was enough to move him on, which was lucky, as I was about to say, helpfully, my knife and fork poised mid-air, “No, you can’t buy alcohol from here, sorry. You see, everything in here – it’s all free!” New level of wanker-dom narrowly avoided...

So, that's what happened to me last night. I was forced to confront my social media dependence, and I just wanted to let you know that I am now selfie-aware. I went. I saw. I ate. I drank. I heard. All without my phone.

And today, well, I'm feeling really good about the whole thing. Because now you all know. 

I blog, therefore I am. #muse