This wasn’t just any scoop of ice cream. The Charmery, a Baltimore-based ice cream shop, had collaborated with one of my all-time favorite bands—Coheed and Cambria—on a limited-edition special flavor: Father of Cake Believe.

There’s a reason the term “rock star” exists—these dudes used to be larger than life before multiple generations rejected that notion and decided it was better to play the “I’m just like you!” card. Well, why the fuck would I pay top dollar to see some guy just like me yammer on about rubbish on stage? I have a whole podcast I can do that on for free. “You’re the best crowd ever, we love you!”—bro this isn’t Applebee’s. Bands need to stop with the customer service, customer-is-always-right voice. We paid money to be in your presence.

Be a fucking GOD.

The sun lowers beneath the horizon, the countdown clock pops up on the jumbo screens, and the crowd chants begin - “5, 4, 3, 2, 1” - And then the beginning dissonant guitar noise of “Disloyal Order of the Water Buffaloes” pipes out of the sound system, and the camera focuses on a young woman in a nurse’s uniform taking notes before panning to the very bearded and always hatted Fall Out Boy frontman, Patrick Stump, laying in a hospital bed as he sings the opening lines: 

“I’m coming apart at the seams, pitching myself for leads in other people’s dreams…” 

And as he stands up off of the hospital bed and starts to remove the hospital gown he’s wearing to reveal his concert outfit, the crowd erupts in screams. 

What happens when you leave a show feeling like you walked away from a pivotal historic moment? A monumental juncture in the scene for music and culture?!?

This last weekend, I had the honor of seeing my hero, “Weird Al” Yankovic, in concert. The last time I saw him live was the summer before I went into the 8th grade in 2007. I was obsessed with this man.