The first band I saw in concert was the Moody Blues when I was six or seven. We saw them at Canada’s Wonderland in Toronto. Our day was spent going on the rides and walking back to the parking lot to eat sandwiches and salads from our cooler.

When the sun was getting ready to finally give us some space, my parents spread a blanket out on the grass where we could see the stage. We relaxed on the blanket and enjoyed the music.

“I want to see a show this summer,” my husband tells me many years later. I do a quick search in our vicinity, and I find one: a Sam Roberts concert in Mont-Tremblant.

“Do I know that band?” Phil asks. I list off some songs I think he knows. We listen to some on YouTube. Phil agrees that it could be a good choice.

“It’s nice up there,” I say. “We could find somewhere to stay and have a mini-vacation.”

“Can I come?” my son asks. It seems like a good setting for his first concert, so I say yes.

A couple days later, my son and I are having a video chat with my sister.

“Tell her what we’re doing this summer,” I say.

My son’s eyes light up. “We’re going to a David Bowie concert!” he says.