In my 36 years, I’ve seen some great live shows ranging from Axl Rose performing an acoustic version of Freefallin with Tom Petty to the Grateful Dead’s first time playing Baba O’Reilly (Teenage Wasteland) to Prince’s Purple Rain tour with my parents (embarrassing). Nothing and I mean nothing compared to seeing the “D” “O” “Double G” otherwise known as Snoop Dogg on Thursday night in Cleveland. Sitting in pole position front row on the loge overhanging the raucous House of Blues crowd, I thought about standing up to dance and decided my spineless hippie swivel fist pump moves wouldn’t fly with the drunk n’ stoned gangsta crowd behind me. (visit here to view a clip)

Snoop stepped on stage over 60 minutes late after already delaying the start time 2 hours so he could attend the Lebron James-Cavs’ game across the street at the Quicken Loans Arena. Snoop finally began at midnight, didn’t smell enough weed in the air, and promptly reprimanded the crowd to light up. Then several full bodied women dancers came on the stage in string bikinis and flashed their woohoonies and veejerinas at the crowd while shaking their bodunkadunks to Snoop’s classics like “Gin and Juice” and “Sexual Eruption”.  “How polarizing!” I thought. “This could be something fun and different to try at the Midwest Yoga Conference in June.”

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A recent NY Times article entitled “The Fat Lady Has Sung” broke down our current state of affairs. As the article stated, “We just had our 70 fat years in America, thanks to the Greatest Generation and the bounty of freedom and prosperity they built for us.” Then there was the Grasshopper Generation which indulged and ate through our prosperity like “hungry locusts.”  And now, the question is, will we become the “Regeneration?” Will we step up the plate, and accept that we are a generation in which “the great task of government will be about taking things away from people?” Will we be able to handle the challenges, expenses, and endurance necessary to rebuild?

At the Snoop Dogg concert, there was no thought of Regeneration. I had a great, albeit kneebuckling time. One of America’s legendary rap/hip-hop artists made me dance, laugh, and sing out loud about things like drinking, smoking, and for lack of a cleaner word, fornicating. As I left the warmth of the House of Blues and stepped into the harsh reality of the freezing Ohio winter, nobody was high-fiving or ranting Snoop’s rallying cry “Get high and f—k!” There were far fewer baggy jeans sagging at the ankles than there were pants tightened up a notch or two around the waist.  And the bling just seemed a little out of place reflecting against the tin can of a street beggar hurting for work, food, and hope.

So where does this go now? I can tell you this. I love to party. I love Snoop Dawg. I am part of the Grasshopper Generation, a “locust” looking to consume, enjoy, and indulge. What am I doing to rebuild, repair, and Regenerate? Sad to say, so far, not a single thing. You?