On Saturday, January 28, I spent five and a half hours waiting in line for Jack Johnson tickets. My husband and I started at 7:45 a.m., on the chilly sidewalk outside the Lobero Theatre, caffeinated and humming Johnson’s song “Banana Pancakes.” We were there to buy four tickets (only two tickets per person were allowed for this special event) and planning to bring our 10- and 13-year-old boys, who had grown up on his local surf vibes. My husband and I, both graduates of UCSB, feel like Jack Johnson is singing about us, with lyrics about the “DLG” (De la Guerra Dining Commons) and meeting his wife with feet covered with tar balls.
The line snaked around the building, through a corridor, and back again to the grand front steps. We huddled in between a Montessori school teacher and a video editor.
Inexperienced at ticket squatting, I envied the folks with little fold-up tables, snacks, warm blankets, and something to read. As a clinical psychologist, I noticed how my mind quickly slipped from being giddy and friendly to comparing and envious. As a yoga practitioner, I said to myself, just imagine yourself in mountain pose. Be present and steady. Meanwhile, my husband, a math teacher, was cheerily counting the number of people in line and estimating our chances.