I’ve been asked by numerous people this year if I’m going to go to “the last Warped Tour.” As if I ever stopped going to Warped in the first place.

I remember the first time I ever heard about the Van’s Warped Tour. I was in middle school, I wasn’t allowed to go, but my brother promised to buy me a Starting Line t shirt. I went with my mom to pick him up afterwards and he talked about how great it was, and convinced my mom to let me go with him the next year.

 

Before I was able to drive myself, a tia was assigned to take all us kids each summer. After a day of running around the Verizon Amphitheater, we’d always go to Whataburger, sunburnt and dehydrated, to share stories about everything we loved about that day.

 

I met so many of my favorite bands and discovered many that quickly became a favorite of mine. My little punk loving self bought my first “Not My President” t shirt and helped people to register to vote well before I was 18. I crowd surfed more times at Warped Tour than I ever have before, and passed out for the first time while The Offspring were playing.

 

I have a collection of picks from different bands and a bottle of water the love of my life, Pete Wentz, once gave me. I have a hoard of band tees that are way too small for me now, and a ridiculous amount of cds from bands I loved and bands I just wanted to support.

 

I would never trade these experiences for anything. The saddest part of this is that I will never be able to take my future children to Warped Tour. I’m going to be forced to be THAT parent that will reminisce about these times to them, and make them watch old dvds of different years.

 

Goodbye Warped. Thanks for the memories.

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