So yesterday I went and got my hair did. I’m not a vain person in general, but the gloomy gray of my roots doesn’t really suit my face at this point in my life and it makes me feel old. (I hope some day it does suit my face because it would really save me a crapload of cash and time.)
My hair stylist, Robert and I started to catch up while he painted my mane, as we do, and somehow ended up on the topic of Universal Studios. Well, more specifically, Harry Potter’s upcoming invasion of said studios. Now I love me some Harry…but in order for the Wizarding World to materialize here in California, one of my favorite places has had to close.
The Gibson Amphitheatre, formerly known as the Universal Amphitheatre was a great little place to hear music for over 40 years. There wasn’t a bad seat in the house…and at some point during my concert-going teens and 20s, I sat in nearly every section of that house. Pit, mezzanine, center left, center right….New Kids, Morrissey, Alanis, Rick Springfield. That house held a lot of sonic memories for me, that’s for sure.
When I first heard it was going, I couldn’t believe it. Why they would eliminate a venue with great acoustics and an intimate feel was beyond me… And then I realized why – so many of today’s “artists” don’t care about the sound, or the relationships they build with their music. It’s become more about the show, the money to be earned from said show, and how to please the most amount of people at once. Two big nights at Staples Center instead of a long stretch at the Greek. Even if the quality suffers.
It didn’t take me long to make the connection between the Amphitheatre’s demise and the birth of the new park devoted to wizards and muggles…and my displeasure and disbelief transformed (not to be confused with transfiguration) into other feelings.  Anticipation, glee even. Honestly, I was more than a little excited. Having been to the Orlando location of Universal Studios (and having had no interest to go to the one here for 25 years), I knew that having Potterland less than 15 minutes away from home was a good thing…so good, it was worthy of Hercules-clapping .

So as much as I’ll miss the music, I can’t wait for the Butterbeer to arrive.