Phish: Can you still have fun?

Plus, Mondays are for lovers.

Hi!

I went to see Phish at the Hollywood Bowl last weekend, and was reminded of a great many things, including more than one ex-boyfriend and a handful of older dear friends.

But the very visceral thing I recalled was how those guys can PLAY. (“That’s fucking music!” my friend-of-a-friend Ally shouted, seemingly involuntarily, at one rhapsodic moment.) It had been more than a decade since I’d seen them last—and even back then, it was a bit of a throwback. But when I really listened to Phish, mostly as a teenager and in my early 20s, I listened a lot, so many of their songs are kind of imprinted on the back of my psyche (or something). I was all of 13 years old at my first show.

So I suppose the next thing I was reminded of was myself. It’s not as if I strongly identify with Phish, although I’ve probably seen them live more than any other musicians and over a period of decades, so perhaps I should. If anything, I feel a little self-conscious about writing this at all. But on Friday night, I discovered my head nodding not only to the music, but also to a person who I used to be. (And no, the drugs were not that strong.) In a moment when I feel a bit lost to myself—“in it,” as they say in reference to those parenting young kids—this felt like a gift.

I texted my friend Justin, who was with me at that first show in ‘94, sending him a photo of the stage on Friday night. He lives in Colorado now, and we generally text annually on one of our birthdays. The next day he sent me back a photo of himself and his cousin at a Seattle show from a couple weeks prior. The Phish archive is deep, and it took me no time to find a recording of the show we first attended together to send to him. Today, I drove to preschool pickup blasting it, windows down, and yelling along: “CAN YOU STILL HAVE FUN??” (iykyk) Turns out I can?

I was primed for the show by Amanda Petrusich’s excellent New Yorker profile of the band, entitled The Portal Opens, in last week’s print issue. If I’m being completely honest, I read this slightly drowning in envy that I didn’t report and write it myself. (The time! The access! The glowing endorsement from Remnick in the newsletter!) She quotes both Bernie Sanders and Mike D and hung out with the band at Trey Anastasio’s recording barn in Vermont. It’s the kind of story I would have absolutely pored over in college, and, well, I guess it still is. Also it made me laugh at times. (“The crowd at a Phish show dances. Should I leave it at that?”) If you are even mildly curious about Phish—and why wouldn’t you be?—it’s a great read. She obviously had a blast doing it. It’s honest and warm, and a refuge from the barrage of terrible news.

That’s it for now, my friends. Check your favorite bands’ and venues’ summer show dates. (Cowboy Carter is opening this very moment.) Have a good day!

Love,

Jenni

P.S.

Mondays are for lovers (and for wrapping newsletters, apparently). Monday is my new favorite night for an early date. Maybe this is only relevant to parents (or maybe not?), but the weekend leaves me so maxed out that Mondays, when school and childcare come back, are like my new Fridays. The mornings are intense, getting Lua back to school and Nelle to our weekly mom-and-me, but then when nap-time comes the house is oh. so. quiet. I’ve recently started asking our nanny to come Monday in the late afternoon and stay through early evening, so Corey and I can share an early supper out and a night off from the dinner-bath-bed grind at home. Tonight we went to Beethoven Market, an excellent new neighborhood spot. It’s impossible to get a decent reservation, but very easy to stroll in at 5pm on a Monday. When dinner was over, there was still another hour of nanny time and two empty seats at the bar. We got a nightcap before the sun went down, and still hit Trader Joe’s on the way home.