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Jose Varela

There are very few things in life that I have ever truly been ashamed of. Loosing my concert virginity to the Brothers, however, tops my list. I didn’t want to; I was saving myself for the Miley

Cyrus’ Best of Both Worlds Concert! But birthdays in the Varela household work like this: if my twin brother and I are turning an odd number, I choose how we will celebrate; if it’s an even year, he chooses. So for our sixteenth birthday, my brother had the bright idea of attending our first concert ever! An even brighter idea, attend the Jonas Brother’s When You Look Me in the Eyes Tour! Please, consider my sarcasm!

On February 2nd, 2008, my brother, two friends, and I arrived at the Gibson Amphitheatre located just behind Universal Studios. We got real good seats, actually, and had to fight off some chicks who were sitting in our seats. Speaking of women, there were too many of them. I could probably count five guys in the crowd, and then gave up. As we sat and awaited the concert to begin, the crowd kept shouting “Jonas! Jonas! Jonas!” (which by the way we started). Just then Nicholas Jerry Jonas, Joseph

Adam Jonas, and Paul rose up from underneath the stage—leave it to the to do something so original! Because as we all know, these young boys are what sportscaster Jim Nantz calls, “the next Beatles.” Regardless, every female in the room began screaming, jumping, crying, and singing “.” Multitaskers. Nick J., our future president y’all, “rocked” his guitar as he sang

“Everybody bought our seventh / it had sold out .” Joe sang along as he trotted along each inch of the stage pointing and waving to all of his fans. The boy was blissful. I wasn’t the only one that noticed. Fans kept saying “Joe is too happy!” He probably just had one too many Shirley

Temples.

Half of the songs I remembered from my self‐imposed two week crash course memorizing their Jose Varela

current album, Jonas Brothers, and the other half were new songs. I didn’t remember any of the songs from their first album It’s About Time, partly because of Nick’s post‐puberty voice.

It’s evident that Nick writes most of the songs since they all connect one way or another: breaking up because of the internet, breaking up because you’re still in love, and breaking up because of

Moises Arias. They mostly use guitars, drums, and pianos throughout their music, very pop‐rock of them. It pains me to say this, not really, but they’re music isn’t so sweet. It’s good for 3 weeks, and then the world moves on. If I hear “S.O.S” one more time…

I was shocked at how loud music at concerts are. Fortunately, the Gipson Amphitheatre provided us with free ear plugs that prevent against ear damage, and if you stick them in entirely into your ear, you can barely hear any music at all!

If I had to say something about the Jonas Brothers, here it goes: the true Jonas that really does his job well and owns my respect has to be Kevin Jonas. During their performance of “Burnin’ Up”, Kevin used the most unlikely instrument: a fire extinguisher. Kevin rarely sings, but is passionate playing his guitar; a true musician. Unfortunately, he is not everyone’s favorite Jonas, for he’s too old, too hairy, and too married. But like my role model Huck Finn once said, “that ain’t no matter.”

As the night progressed, the Jonas Brothers slowed things down by playing their only good song:

”, a new song to be on their next album of the same name. The song calmed our heartbeats from jumping all night. We all seemed to honor Nick’s strength through this song that talks about his diabetes. This song is sort of like when a child actor wants to be respected as an adult. So far only Drew Barrymore and Mary‐Kate and Ashley Olsen have achieved that goal. But I think if Nick waited a couple years before releasing the song, the Jonas Brothers would have been respected by all people.

I lived every girl’s fantasy that night, but was ashamed every second of it. I don’t exactly know if it was the harsh chemicals from the Herbal Essences shampoo or the Victoria’s Secret body spray these Jose Varela

girls had on at the concert that entered my nasal passageways and poisoned my brain to have fun, but I vow to never degrade myself again by attending a Jonas Concert, no bueno for the ego. Today, two years later, I am more mature and know what good music is. Good music does not come from the Jonas

Brothers, but .