Fandom and all of its eccentricities shouldn't have a forced expiration date. For me and so many other aging fans, the experience of seeing Morrissey live is timeless, new, urgent and creates the same impulse to rush the stage.
Raised on my mother's transatlantic '70s folk collection, I'd never heard lyrics so unashamedly flippant; a 1980s Oscar Wilde, Morrissey seemed to convey the vacuous concerns of youthful beauty in a wonderfully ironic and self-deprecating fashion.
The Smiths were the misfits of pop music and the misfits of rock and roll and their audience ate it up. The band's jingle-jangle sound and catchy songs have never been forgotten and still feel as vibrant and as inventive today as they did back then.
In anticipation of 12/21/12, this past year saw a return of the doomsday film. Melancholia was an okay end-of-the-world movie, but for this fan, it was not a very good Lars Von Trier film. Perhaps a third viewing is in order.