I didn’t sleep last night. I’m sure I am not the only one. I had just settled into bed and turned on our TV at 11 o’clock to catch the news, when the reports of a mass-shooting in Las Vegas took over the normal newscast. I immediately checked Twitter (frankly, social media reacts much faster than even television news in Los Angeles), and saw that chaos had overtaken the Strip, if not the city.
I sat up for hours, unable to sleep. I watched the initial iPhone videos that came over Twitter. I could hear the seemingly incessant gunfire exploding over the crowd of music lovers enjoying Jason Aldean’s set at the Route 91Harvest Music Festival. I was honestly shocked by how long it took people to realize what was happening – probably because when one attends a concert, the last damn worry should be whether or not you’re going to die in the process. That was pretty much the only thing I considered as the news unfolded. I could barely remember which of my friends lived there, or who could possibly be affected. All that continued running through my head as if on a treadmill, was the thought that no one should ever have to lose their life at a concert.
It isn’t my intention to turn Daily Duranie into a gun-debate. I’m going to leave that to social media to hammer out. In the meantime, I’m going to mourn the people who matter. Mandalay Bay is my favorite hotel in Las Vegas, and concerts are my refuge. Again, I am sure I am not alone. I’ve spent a lot of time in Las Vegas seeing my favorite band over the years, and seeing images from last night gives me chills to the core. I am a music lover. The people who attended this festival are music lovers. Getting home safely at the end of the night or weekend just doesn’t seem like something that should ever be in question.
It is getting to the point where it is harder and harder to leave the house without a contingency plan in place for the worst case scenario. I actually think twice before going anywhere. This Friday, I’m going with my husband to see Coldplay at the Rose Bowl. At one point, I might have grumbled about the seemingly crazy rules about purses and bags. Now? I’m not bringing anything but my ID, and I hope they search the hell out of the crowd. I don’t even LIKE Coldplay that much! I’m just doing my wifely duty. I very much dislike that I’m second-guessing whether or not I should even go.
I remember writing after the massacre at Le Bataclan and throughout Paris. I have never, ever been more freaked out than I was that afternoon, purely because the band had performed in Paris earlier that day. I’m somewhat embarrassed to say I was “that person” who begged Dom to tweet just to say he was safe. He was the only one I knew that might check Twitter, and I had to at least try. It was ridiculous on one hand because I don’t even know these people that well, and on the other, they’re my favorite band. I’ve known them since childhood, dammit! (Again, I KNOW I’m not alone.) The lump in my throat was significant that day. I could feel the panic rising as each moment went by without an update from a band member, or Katy, or even DDHQ. I never want to have that feeling, ever again. Yet, here we are.
My heart goes out to those who have lost family members. I feel for the people who live in Las Vegas and have to pass by the venue. I’m sorry for those who lost their lives, or who were hurt—emotionally and physically. I hate writing these types of blogs. There aren’t words, and I have no reasons. I’m not particularly good with platitudes. I’m sad today, and I’ve hugged my youngest a lot more than normal. My other two are away at school, so the little one is getting all of the hugs.
I also wanted to apologize for the semi-superfluous post that originally went out this morning, given the circumstances. I had written today’s blog ahead of time, and it wasn’t until it was far too late that I recognized it would post before I was able to stop it. I’m sorry if it appeared that Amanda and I didn’t care as a result. We very much do.
As I tried to find the right words to close this post, I got word that Tom Petty has passed. He was only 66. What a terrible day for music fans.