Letting go of set-lists

Alas, I must face the truth that within me still festers a part of my 12-year-old self and it is doing me no good.
That part of me must be the nerdy leftovers of a boy obsessed with his baseball card collection, nervously obsessing over player stats as the game itself evolved. The stats of players that were once great felt suddenly commonplace and the men depicted on those cardboard squares seemed a little less heroic each day. And thus the entire value of the collection, real or imagined, withered away.
I'd lost sight of the joy of collecting favorites and had become obsessed with rarity. And soon, baseball cards weren't any fun.
This is how I've started to fell about set-lists….
I don't know when I started to become a nerd for stats in the music I love, but that happened too. All at once I found myself obsessed with checking set-lists from every show I couldn't get to, tallying songs to measure their rarity and finally, placing a personal value on each song based on how many other people get to see it performed live. I guess I didn't know I was that far gone.
Should I really be so jealous to discover that some other crowd got the "Harpua" I've been chasing for years? And if at last they play it for me, will it be any less glorious?
No, man.
I have to remind myself today just how bad I want that song and just how unimportant it is that someone else got to see it first this tour.
I'm putting my 12-year-old, nervous, lonesome self to bed and I think I'm done looking at set-lists from shows I can't attend. And at last, I can focus again on truly enjoying the music I fell in love with in the first place.

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