If you had told me a year ago that one of my most popular blog pieces was going to be one I wrote about Phish, I would have said that you were smoking something I think some people may smoke at their shows.

But the universe wants what it wants.

When my oldest son discovered the band Phish about a decade ago, I barely paid attention. I did note that he put Phish stickers on his computer, a poster on his wall and that he read a book with a colorful cover about them. And he started going to shows; a few at first, and then more and more as the years went on.

I mean, I had three sons and they all went through different phases, like Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Barney, The Wiggles, etc. Was I really supposed to pay attention to everything they were into?

But at some point, I started realizing that this whole Phish thing was a little different.

My son was really serious about them.

As he got older (and had some disposable income), he began following them to all different places. Like various states and even Mexico. This past summer my son and a friend went to Colorado to see Phish and sent me an alarming photo that mentioned the bubonic plague in the area where the shows were.

Although I didn’t know what the Phish guys looked like or much about them, I did know they had some sort of hold on my son.

Luckily his then girlfriend (and now fiancée) accepted my son’s passionate preoccupation. She even went to shows with him. My husband went to one as well, and my middle son went to several with his older brother. But my youngest, well, he went ballistic when my oldest took him to a Trey Anastasio Band concert (Trey is Phish’s lead singer, for the uninitiated) and wanted nothing further to do with them.

Because I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t really know what kind of music Phish played. I assumed it was some kind of rock. My personal jam is more of the Billy Joel sound and I figured it would be hard to teach this old dog a new musical trick. But I was wrong. There, I said it out loud for all of you to hear.

The universe forced me to listen to their music.

As some of you may know by now, I happened to hear Mike Gordon playing guitar and singing in the cabana next to mine this past summer when I was on vacation with my husband. Yes, that’s Mike Gordon of Phish. And because I hadn’t been paying attention to my eldest, I had zero idea who he was. I think Mike was kind of amused by my cluelessness and comments. “Wow, Mr. Stranger playing that odd stringed instrument you explained was a traveling guitar, you have perfect pitch. Do you play in a band?”

Then we met Trey, who was like the Mr. Rogers of cool music. Like sooooooo nice that he listened to my story about how much my oldest son loved him and my youngest son didn’t and how I had no clue. On and on I babbled while he nodded his head like I was sane and actually making sense. And then he called my son at work from my cell phone. And how I spent a few days watching them around our hotel like some freaky stalker, instead of the tired mild-mannered mom blogger I am. After which, I wrote a piece about them which did shockingly well, because apparently there are like a zillion Phish fans out there.

SO, because the universe insisted on this whole Phish thing, I’m going to see them at the Nassau Coliseum this coming Sunday with my oldest son and the rest of our family, sans our youngest son who has to go back to college and wouldn’t go anyway.

I’m a little nervous because I have only been to old people concerts in the past decade; Billy, Bruce, Barbra, Bette, Barry, Neil (Diamond, not Young), etc. and I’m not quite sure what to expect.

We even got matching t-shirts made so, if you are there and see us, come over and say hi. The Phish fans seem to be a really great group of people. And I can personally tell you that Trey thinks you all make a great community.

I will report back after the concert and let you know how it goes.

But I’m guessing that the universe can’t be wrong.