That Time I Was in a Mosh Pit

 

I avoided the mosh pit for thirty years. I am a GenX-er, and I never moshed. 

 

I attended many concerts during my college years that had circle pits, mosh pits, pogoing, slam dancing, etc., but I always watched this phenomena from a distance. 

There was a reason Kathleeen Hanna popularized the phrase, "Girls to the front!" Women were sick of getting assaulted by dudes at rock shows.

 

My moshing window closed years ago. 

 

However, over Labor Day weekend, I found myself in a pit at a Pixies concert. Weird, because most people who are old enough to remember the band's heyday probably don't mosh anymore. 

 

Case in point—this t-shirt coming to a middle-aged GenXer near you:

 

In a twist of dramatic irony, the Millennial friend who attended with us was asking about circle pits and mosh pits just before the concert started. He had seen a pit at a Metallica concert the week before and wanted to know what the hell it was.

 

"People just started running around in a circle and slamming into each other."

 

Little did we all know, he would experience his first mosh pit that night. And so would I (insert eye roll here).

 

We found a spot in front, and I figured I would be safe since most of the concert goers looked way past their moshing days.

 

Toward the end of Modest Mouse's set, a group of young teenagers rushed the stage and started a mosh pit to the left of us. Modest Mouse didn't strike me as a very mosh-able band.

 

Modest Mouse

 

But, remarkably, GenZ was really there for Pixies. Had they heard about them from their grandparents? 

 

Not that I'm complaining. I'm kind of impressed with these young people's taste in music.

 

When Pixies took the stage, the real moshing began, mostly to my left. The right side stayed tamer, although someone made a feeble attempt at a pit once or twice.

 

I kept my elbows up and my hands out, ready to push people away. I had to survive the night. I was supposed to teach children the next day. 

 

(By the way, children, I do not condone violence at concerts or any other venue.)

I sandwiched myself between my Millennial friend and my husband, Dan, to avoid a bloody nose or getting hit by the big guys falling into me. Yeah, I used my friend and husband as a human shield. I'm not sorry.

 

“Sorry,” I muttered to younger guy I fell into, who wasn't participating in the pit but seemed to be amused by it. 

“It’s fine. It’s a pit!” 

 

"Yeah, I know. My generation invented pits. I've avoided them for thirty years.” 

 

Only one guy tried to crowd surf.

“I’m not catching him,” I told Dan.

 

An older guy behind us (who was not moshing) kept leaning forward and saying, “I got you. I got your back." 

 

Then he added, "This is wilder than I expected."

 

Most of the GenX-ers just stood there, smirking at the youngsters (a totally GenX thing to do). Some of the bigger, middle-aged guys elbowed the young kids away, protecting us older folks. I am eternally grateful.

PIXIES

 

We were surprised to see so many young teenage girls moshing. Then they dropped their smartphones and spent half the concert crouching on the ground shining a flashlight from someone else's phone in all of our eyes. That was definitely something GenX didn’t have to worry about back in the day.

 

After the concert that night (spoiler alert: I survived), Dan said, “I don’t know why they were moshing to some of the slower Pixies songs. I was thinking, 'That's not a song you would normally mosh to . . .' ”

 

Kids these days. They're not doing the concert mosh pit thing right.

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Here We Go Again: Teaching Year #22!

 

School started last week, and just like that, I found myself in my twenty-second year of teaching music. I am two-thirds the way to retirement. Occasionally, I even have students who are children of former students.

 

All of these things blow my mind. None of this seems possible. I don't feel old enough for any of it.

The good news is . . . I still love my job, even after two-plus—gulp—decades. I love my job, in part, because there is never a lack of blog material. 

Welcome to Mrs. Duggan's first week of school.

 

Shorter Than the Teens 

The day before the kids arrived, we hosted a sneak peek at our school. One of my former students, who is now in junior high, attended the sneak peek with her sister. 

 

About halfway through our conversation, my former student sized me up and declared, "You're still short! You haven't gotten any taller!" 

 

"That's how it works! You keep growing, and I stay the same," I said.

 

She added, "You haven't changed at all. You still look young." 

 

She knows how to score points, that's for sure!

 

Copy Cat is Scary

For the first time ever, one of the new kindergartners was scared of Copy Cat, my sidekick puppet who teaches kids to sing. 

 

Usually, the kindergartners (and sometimes the sixth graders) beg to see Copy Cat everyday, and I have to think up all kinds of crazy things as an amateur puppeteer.

 

Copy Cat sits on a cart, which happened to be right behind this kindergartner's dot. I noticed something was wrong when the little boy kept scooting farther and farther away from his dot. A bit later, he put a hand by his eye, like a shield. Then a moment or two later, he started to cry. 

 

When I figured out what was going on, I moved the little boy away from Copy Cat's resting place, but all of the kids kept begging for Copy Cat to come back out and say "hi." 

 

I didn't quite know what to do. I mean, I'm not in this business to traumatize children.

 

Luckily, by the end of class and after a quick chat with his teacher, he left the music room, pointing at Copy Cat and saying, "I like that guy. He's a funny guy!"  

I don't know if he was trying to convince himself or me. He gave Copy Cat an anxious look and a wide berth as he passed by.

 

 

My Baby Guitar

In the other kindergarten class, I took out my guitar to sing our school song. One of the kindergartners spotted my ukulele in the corner and exclaimed, "Oo! A baby one!"

He ran over to the ukulele and picked it up, "I have to show you something!"

I caught him just before he started strumming. 

 

Students are not encouraged to touch Mrs. Duggan's personal instruments, but "a baby one?" That's pretty cute.

 

ROAR!

Our school song is a parody of Katy Perry's "Roar" because we're the Jaguars and we have "ROAR expectations" —you get the idea. 

 

One of my students, who is learning English, lets out a little "Roar!" every time we finish a phrase. I figure it's a good way for him to practice his language skills.

 

Mrs. Duggan Encourages Sassiness 

One of my sixth graders asked me if Willy Wonka was going to be our spring musical this year. 

 

"I've been practicing the Sassy Girl part with my dad all summer!" she said.

 

Oh man. I'm sure her father LOVED that.

 

 

Speaking of Veruca Salt, my husband, Dan, sneaks a new album onto my computer the first day of school every year. This year, it was the new Louise Post album. On a side note, we saw her in concert this summer. The 90s live on at my house!

 

 

Sugar Cravings

Note to self: Never buy Skittles or Starbursts for the prize box again. 

 

I've almost eaten the entire bag. I thought they would be safe because they weren't chocolate. I didn't realize how much I love them.

 

 

When Students Move On

This time of the year, my former students get nostalgic and visit me quite a bit, and I am always so happy to hear when music continues to be a part of their lives. 

 

This week, one of my former students, now a teen, told me he was still singing in the high school choir. On the same day, a parent informed me that her daughter had just been accepted into the university music program.

 

Those are the anecdotes that keep me going (oh, and all the Skittles I keep eating).

 

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Happy Belated Birthday To Me (and Dan)

 

I didn't get around to blogging about my husband's, birthday in April or my birthday in June, so I decided to combine them into one belated birthday post. Here are my favorite birthday images from 2023!

My husband, Dan, celebrating with one Red Velvet Cake and one German Chocolate Cake

I gave Dan Mario Kart 8 for his birthday. Neither of us are sure who enjoys playing it the most though.

Birthday dinner at The Melting Pot

 

We were still on our road trip during my birthday. We stopped in Twin Falls to visit family before heading back to Boise.

 

Cutest cards ever from the nephews

Shoshone Falls

 

 

Birthday hike to Auger Falls

Quick detour to Camas Prairie

Lately, I've been working on my Sally O'Malley impression. It's only four years away, after all.

 

"Um . . . I'm not sure I'm looking forward to your 50th birthday," Dan said after watching my totally rad routine.

I CAN KICK AND STRETCH . . . I'M FIFTY, FIFTY YEARS OLD!

  

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Road Trip 2023: The Rock 'N Roll Part

 

I've spent the last couple of blog posts detailing our summer road trip, including our visits to a few National Parks and a scary drive that was, of course, my husband's idea.

We ended our journey at Schellraiser, a DIY-type music festival in the middle of nowhere, in the Nevada desert. Think Treefort, with some of the same bands (Dinosaur Jr.!), but on an even smaller scale. 

 

There were no metal detectors. The people barely checked our tickets. It was way more chill, with way more (legal, it was Nevada, not prudish Idaho) weed. The shuttle to and from the festival was called "The Cannabus," and it was run by one of the local dispensaries. 

 

On the way to Schellraiser, my husband, Dan, and I made a pit stop at Cathedral Gorge State Park, where we ate lunch and checked out the slot canyons.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then we headed to Schellraiser.

 

Blitzen Trapper

The Vandoliers

 

The Paranoyds

 

Blonde Redhead

 

The Joy Formidable

 

On the second night of the festival, I ordered dinner at one of the food trucks, and they guy asked for my food ticket. 

Then he saw my credit card and said, "Oh, you're paying. I thought you were in one of the bands." 

Okay, that was the most amazing thing I heard during the entire trip. My Sleater-Kinney shirt did, in fact, smell like weed by then (from the environment, not from partaking). 

 

 

Three-day festival vibes

 

Dinosaur Jr. headlined the final night, and just as they were starting to sound check, the power to the entire festival went out. I think everyone assumed it was the eight Marshall amps Dinosaur Jr. had on stage. 

 

Then we heard someone say, "They're bringing in some diesel."

"Diesel? Why would that matter?' I wondered.

It turned out the power to the festival was being run on a generator, and they had run out of diesel. Dinosaur Jr. was only delayed by about thirty minutes, and they still played a full hour-and-a-half set.

 

Dinosaur Jr.

Dinosaur Jr.

 

Also, fun fact, I didn't shower for three days. #TrueRockNRoller

 

More Road Trip Fun:

Road Trip 2023: The National Parks Part

Road Trip 2023: The Scary Drive Part

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Road Trip 2023: The Scary Drive Part

 

"Tomorrow, Dan wants to take a certain scenic drive that sounds like it might cause death . . . or possibly lead to divorce. We'll see . . ." 

 

I wrote this passage in my travel journal the night we took the Mount Carmel-to-Zion Highway.

 

In this second installment of my summer road trip series, I would like to tell you about the "scenic drive" Dan decided to take us on. 

 

My face when Dan bribes me with candy before taking us on a scary drive

 

After reading about our national parks experience last week, maybe you're interested now in how we get to all of these fun places. Or not. Either way, here it is. You're welcome.

On Tripadvisor, several of the reviews talked about how beautiful this particular drive was, gorgeous scenery, blah, blah, blah.

 

But some of the reviews started with, "Hold on to Your Steering Wheel" and "I Almost Crapped Myself!"

"I'm FREAKING DONE!! I'm NEVER going on vacation with [my husband] again. This is the third time he's pulled something like this on me . . . I'm going to church Sunday and I'm going to change my life. This was too close to DEATH!!!" 

This did not sound like something I would enjoy . . . AT. ALL. 

 

When Dan says, "It [the drive] will be pretty. Eat your Twix bar."

 

When Dan still refuses to let me veto going the "scenic way"

 

 

So . . . our drive on the Mount Carmel-to-Zion Highway did not, in fact, end in death or divorce. It actually wasn't as bad as some of the mountain roads Dan has driven in the past.

 

The scariest part was the mile-long tunnel—no running out of gas or breaking down allowed on that stretch.

Dan made me stand on a rock on the edge of the road, I repeat, on the edge of the high part of the road so he could take a picture of one of the windows in the tunnel. 

 

 

And every time we went around a switchback (there were several) we'd yell, "HAIRPIN TURN! AGGH!"

 

But all in all, everything was fine. I'm fine. We're fine. 

And still married.

More Road Trip Fun:

Road Trip 2023: The National Parks Part

Road Trip 2023: The Rock 'N Roll Part

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Road Trip 2023: The National Parks Part

 

This year, my husband, Dan, and I took off on our summer road trip immediately after school got out. That may be one of the reasons you haven't heard from me lately. 

 

One moment it was Maycember. (Yes, music teachers, not just parents, use this term to describe the chaos that is end-of-the-year concerts and music-related activities. I had performances clear up until the final day of school.) 

 

The next, I was on a two-week road trip that took us through Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and back up through Idaho. We visited three national parks, attended a three-day music festival, and celebrated my birthday in that span of time. 

This week I'm focusing on our trek through the national parks, or as I like to call it, "Becky's Exploration of Her Debilitating Fear of Heights." 

BRYCE CANYON:

 

 

We thought about hiking into the canyon on one of the trails, described in the brochures as somewhat easy. 

 

I stood scowling at the path. A ranger approached us and asked if he could answer any questions. 

"We're trying to decide if this hike would be alright for her since she's scared of heights," Dan said.

"Yeah, this probably isn't the park for you," the ranger said with a laugh. He was stretching his quads, like he was limbering up for a zombie apocalypse (reference to Jesse Eisenberg in Zombieland).

 

 

 

THE GRAND CANYON:

 

 

My first view of the Grand Canyon was at Hopi Point. I will never forget that feeling of part dread, part awe, part frozen in my tracks. I started that weird hysterical laugh-cry thing I do when my acrophobia kicks in. 

 

 

I'm not kidding. This is my fear response to heights. Dan thinks it's hilarious. He won't think it's so hilarious when I finally go over the edge of something.

Eventually, I got used to the view. I was even able to hike several sections (wide sections) of the Rim Trail.

 

Dan had originally thought we might even be able to hike the Rim Trail from Mohave Point to Hopi Point.

 

But as we approached this area on the park shuttle, the voice on the intercom announced, "You should NOT hike this part of the trail if you are afraid of heights."

 

 

 

ZION NATIONAL PARK:

 

Zion was my favorite of the national parks we visited. Plus, we didn't have to hike down a trail from enormous heights to explore the inside of the canyon.

 

The town where Zion is located is a cute resort. Here, we discovered Cactus Candy.

 

 

It's a type of jelly made from Prickly Pear juice. We bought something like five boxes of Cactus Candy during our trip (as souvenirs for others too, not just for ourselves—geesh). 

 

All of the souvenirs are Prickly Pear themed in this part of the country, the way Idaho is huckleberry-everything.

One of our shuttle drivers in Zion sang and danced (and sometimes removed her hands from the steering wheel) as she drove through the park. 

 

"Don't mind me," the driver said. "If you don't talk to me, I sing and dance for myself!"

 

We wanted to get back on her shuttle. It was like riding a Party Bus.

 

 

More Road Trip Fun:

Road Trip 2023: The Scary Drive Part

Road Trip 2023: The Rock 'N Roll Part

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Treefort at 45

I'm a month late with my Treefort post, but oh well. Just in case you were wondering, I did, in fact, survive Treefort (and the mud and the wind and the freezing temperatures and the snow —yes, snow), and, most notably, I survived it at age 45. 

Last year, I caught COVID at Treefort. But this year, I've gotten COVID twice, and I've received every shot and updated booster available to humans right now. I was pretty sure I would dodge another bout of COVID this time around. 

Spoiler alert: So far, so good.

 

A music festival like Treefort, with its 500 bands and other arts-related activities, can be daunting. I worry about my stamina every year, and I voice this over and over to my husband, Dan, for several weeks prior to the event. 

 

So Dan advised me, "Just set a goal to see one band per day."

 

It's a good goal. I usually surpass it because I'm an overachiever. By the time the day is over, I've seen about six bands and/or performance arts groups, and I roll into our hotel room around midnight. Then Dan goes to one more show because he has to stay out later than me to prove that he rocks harder or something.

 

(Yes, even though we live in Boise, Treefort headquarters, we get a hotel room close to the venues because we're ride or die.)

 

Recently, I read an article entitled "I went to Coachella as a 29-year-old and realized I'm too old for it." Give me a break. Obviously, the author is not a tough GenXer like me.

 

 

DAY 1

 

The Paranoyds

 

Guitarist extraordinaire Doug Martsch (Built to Spill) was standing near us at one concert, stretching out his wrists and hands in a manner that has become very familiar to me as a middle aged musician suffering from tennis elbow (in both arms nowadays). I felt like I was in good company.

 

Yep. Dinosaur Jr. Only the cool kids understand how awesome this is.

 

Some of Boise's Local Scene: WEND and The French Tips

 

DAY 2

 

illuminati hotties

 

 

Grocer

Built To Spill. Also only for the cool kids . . .

 

By the second day, I wore Under Armour and flannel to brave the frigid weather. It was the coldest Treefort I ever experienced. 

 

One of the highlights of Day 2 was seeing my former student perform at Treefort. Seeing them perform around the valley is always a #proudmusicteachermoment, and I truly admire this beautiful and powerful performer and human.  

 

Madisun Proof

 

 

DAY 3

 

Then it snowed and kept snowing at random intervals.

 

Blvck Hippie

On Day 3, we walked by a young guy running a booth in the park on our way to the main stage.

 

"Whoa! Thom Yorke!" the guy said. "Hey, you look like Thom Yorke!"

 

Dan always gets compared to rock star doppelgangers at Treefort. Usually, it's Kurt Cobain or the guitarist from Maroon 5. Thom Yorke was a new one.

 

"Thom Yorke? I've never heard that one before," Dan muttered. 

Margo Price

 

DAY 4

 

More snow. And lots of guitar tuning . . . extra challenging in these temperatures . . . 

 

More of Our Local Scene: Blood Lemon

That evening, we saw Ani DiFranco. I convinced Dan to see her for nostalgia's sake. She is an icon for us '90s feminists, after all.

 

"Don't you want insight into college Becky's dorm room days?"

 

Ani DiFranco! 

 

By the end of the evening, Dan admitted he was hesitant because he thought she might be too mellow for him, but (and I quote), "She actually rocks!"

 

Dan has a thing for short girls with acoustic guitars.

 

 

DAY 5

 

Oruã

Interview with Ani DiFranco at the Idaho State Museum

 

On our final night of Treefort, Dan asked me what I would remember most this year.

 

"How cold it was," I replied.

 

"Freezefort," Dan said. (I'm not sure he originated this term.)

 

However, as you can see from this post, Treefort was memorable, and it wasn't just the frigid temperatures.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.