Am I getting old? I used to be one of the people that disregarded reunion tours. They used to be something that my parents got excited about. It was never that big of a deal when, say, the Eagles decided that it was time to throw off the dust of ages gone by to belt out “Hotel California” again. It never excited me that much.

I can’t really talk, though. The first major concert I went to was at the Target Center in Minneapolis to see Black Sabbath reunite. The lights went down as the band took the stage and a giant screen lit up with Ozzy’s famous wide-eyed head.

When the rocking started, it was one of the most disorienting things I have ever seen in my life when somewhere around 20,000 graying heads started to headbang simultaneously. It was like being trapped in an upside-down blizzard.

I can’t imagine what the two guys in front of me who snuck in a bong must have felt like.

That’s what a reunion tour has always seemed like to me. It’s a little hard to resolve that image with the latest headlines.

The Pixies reunite? The Pixies? The people who gave us “Monkey Gone To Heaven” are getting back together? I get to hear “Hey” live? I get to maybe scream out “Must be whores in my head!” and not have people think I’m insane?

It’s not just back in Black Francis, either. It seems like everybody is trying to key in on the action.

Sebadoh frontmen Lou Barlowe and Eric Loewenstein are getting back together to rock the United States for the first time in five years since they broke up after their album The Sebadoh. What’s more, the two plan on making it a stripped-down acoustic affair.

Is there a time limit on a reunion tour? Can you “reunite” after five years, or is that just kind of like finding out you told your girlfriend you broke up last night and you just forgot?

My personal favorite, however, is the recent gig at which Rivers Cuomo and Matt Sharp of Weezer apparently got together and played an acoustic set. Sharp has apparently gotten over what he sees as unjust royalties and Cuomo has apparently gotten over being sued by his former garage-mate. A roomful of Cal Fullerton students got to see the pair on stage together unannounced, ending with an encore of “The Sweater Song.”

One of the weirder reunions happened earlier this week, when Brian Wilson played the Beach Boys’ album Smile by himself with a 20-piece band decked out in firemen’s helmets. While it probably doesn’t count as an actual reunion, it helps to remember that Wilson considered himself more or less to be the Beach Boys.

You probably can’t really call it a reunion, but at the same time, it has all the hallmarks: people you never thought you’d see playing songs again, songs you thought you’d never get to hear live and a lot of people who probably feel kind of old right now.

Oh, and did I mention massive marketing potential?

I think that if there’s one thing that manages to always ruin a reunion, it’s the fact that they’re like money in the bank. I never knew Rod Stewart fans were still so rabid after all these years. Billboard shows him holding five out of six of the current top-grossing concerts. People are paying up to $95 a head to see Rod belt out “Wake up, Maggie, I think I got somethin’ ta say to you.”

Like I said, though, this is just me feeling old at 22. At the same time, there’s something a bit defeatist about bands that promised so much innovation going back to the old formula. It’s a bit like calling it quits. To be fair, with Kim Deal’s main projects alone, it’s unlikely that the Pixies are going to become a greatest-hits band. At least Sharp and Cuomo are still writing new tunes, and if Lou Barlowe (a man who helped found grunge and played bass for Dinosaur Jr.) wants his Sebadoh, who am I to tell him he’s wrong?

I’m just hoping they aren’t done yet. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go listen to “Surfer Rosa.”