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| The ticket to paradise... at least when it comes to Country Music! |
This is a work in progress... so bear with me.
Above all else, I want to express my deep thanks to Beth and Pete for offering me this opportunity to immerse myself in the wonder and mayhem that is the CMA Fest. It was truly life-altering and I do not have words to express all the gratitude in my heart.
Above all else, I want to express my deep thanks to Beth and Pete for offering me this opportunity to immerse myself in the wonder and mayhem that is the CMA Fest. It was truly life-altering and I do not have words to express all the gratitude in my heart.
For the record, I had been to the CMA Fest for one night a couple of years ago. It was fabulous. But it was for ONE night.
Hearing Beth talk about the full-on Fest experience with such glowing terms about how amazing and wonderful and unbelievable it was simply made it larger than life in my mind. It was going to be some kind of full throttle musical magic carpet ride to a world that was unlike any I had ever experienced before.
Turns out, Beth was dead wrong in her description.
It just wasn't near enough. She wasn't expansive enough, enthusiastic enough or excited enough about how exactly the Fest is a life-changing experience. HOLY FLAMING COW!!
THE FEST!!
THURSDAY
Thursday, June 7 began my complete CMA Fest adventure. We went up to Nashville about lunch time and I knew we were going to go to LP field for the concerts later that night. I had experienced the one night Fest as I mentioned before. I thought I knew what I was getting into when it came to the complete Fest experience.
WRONG!! Just color me mind blown!
To start with, Beth's enthusiastic sharing of her past experiences of enjoying the fest simply made me salivate for more. It all sounded so wonderfully fun and exciting to be immersed in the 24-hour a day music row symphony of sound. She also had taken careful pains to extoll the virtues of the little shuttle buses that would take us anywhere we wanted to go in the Fest experience. That included being picked up and dropped off for free at the various venues for music, shopping, freebie gathering and enjoying all the ambiance that the Fest could offer. Sounded pretty good to me!
Since she had gone up on Wednesday to get the tickets and parking pass and also to escape the home hassles of her vicious biting, teething dog who is trying distract her, her menfolk needing her help to do anything and everything and who actually had the nerve to demanded food at mealtimes... all so she could take time to go up and do her homework. Beth had even gathered up a tiny little map that indicated all the shuttle bus stops to all the venues and the complete route of the little bus that would make life oh so much easier and offer the world of the Fest at our footsteps.
It all sounded great!! A musical experience wrapped up in joy and excitement paired with convenient bus rides to anywhere we needed to go! Yeah!
What she didn't bother to explain (and what I had already suspected deep in my bones as I listened to her glowing description of the bus routes!) was that we were NOT EVER going to be riding the handy little shuttle bus ANYWHERE, ANYTIME, on ANY DAY.
NOPE!
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| Oh where, oh where has my little bus gone? Oh where, oh where can it be? |
Instead we were going to watch it majestically sail by without us! Bye Bye! Y'all have fun now, you hear?
Had Hell suddenly frozen over and we need transportation down for the view, we would have been walking our way through the fields of fire and ice, ushering ourselves right past the handy little Satan Express Bus stopped at the side of the road and packed with River Styx-crossing tourists to get there on our own smoldering feet for a quick peek at the wonder of a frozen flame. That amazing vista would be followed by a long hike barefoot back up the heights of Mephistopheles Hill on a bed of glowing coals on the return trip from the greater sights of Purgatory.
It was GOOD for us. Exercise is our friend. And all that heat would be like a sauna treatment thrown in for an added bonus!
Yeah! Yippee!
I was not stunned by this moment of revelatory reality TV being played out for MY benefit.
Oh no, happy campers!
You see, I absolutely KNEW we would be completing all of the mileage for each and every single event on our own two feet and that it would be the near equivalent to the Mormon pioneer's journey west as we hiked our way through Nashville over the next several days of the Fest.
I had prepared. I had trained. I had even brought BOTH pairs of tennis shoes so I could alternate them all through the days and nights of our long migration from place to place in search of music, sno-cones and fun. Oh yes, kiddies. The Fest was actually an endurance test paired up with country music.
As an added courtesy meant to bolster my confidence that I could and would survive each day's slate of activity and, previous to our departure from the hotel room for the various events and musical entertainment of Thursday night, Beth politely showed me her handy little bus route map and that she had indeed carefully circled our closest little bus stop about a block and a half from the hotel.
Then, she tenderly pointed out every single little stop on the route... all painstakingly explained and shared ... and all done in about 10 scant minutes AFTER the bus had come and gone.
Mmm huh. Yep. AFTER.
It was such a comfort to know that Beth had thought it all out ahead for my benefit... comforting in that way that I mean NOT!! Thank you, sweetie. I appreciate the sacrifice all of that brain-burning planning has cost you. How kind of you to do all the advance work for our crossing of the Nashville plains into the promised land of Country music! How wonderful!
Beth, you are a complete DILL WEED!!!
Stupid I am, but why bother to tell me what I have missed and what I will continue to be missing?
Isn't that just a little mean...? Oh, but wait... that WAS the point.
Which is why it was just so dang funny. "Gee, it looks like we just missed the little bus... and if we wait for the next one to come, we could have used the waiting time to already be there by just walking it..." Muuahahahahahahahahaha.
Yeah. Special. NOT!
Music City Boot Camp is now in session and set to the sound of a country music fueled drill instructor. Pure and simple. This will be no walk in the park! We are on a schedule which is visible only to the eyes of the D.I. and she does not tolerate whiny slackers!
HIKE IT, SOLDIER!
Ma'am! Yes, Ma'am!
Had I been a smarter person, which by now this blog has demonstrably pointed out is simply not the case, I would have brought along a handy little mileage counter and my OWN dang little map so I could track my daily log of personal progress on the "Nashville pioneer trek" toward the CMA Fest. I could have walked to Omaha by now, I'm sure. It could prove to have been a memorable keepsake of the entire mileage log for the oh so tenderly evocative "bus route passing us by at every turn Fest adventure"... but I digress.
Due in part the fact that I actually do exercise regularly, and thank goodness that despite my version of being "in shape", which is still ROUND folks, I was able to go everywhere we needed to go on my own two feet without completely alienating Beth in the process because my speed is not her speed and quite often my path through the crowd wasn't her path through the crowd.
Hmm. That sounded vaguely like a scriptural reference... almost like something from the book of Isaiah. Perhaps that veered toward blasphemy to consider a reference to the scriptures while I sweated and wheezed my way to our destinations and way points.
To be fair, I wheeze on completely level ground thanks to being a mild asthmatic. Going up the rolling, gentle slopes and hiking staircases here and there made me sound very much like I needed a rolling cart with either an oxygen concentrator. Either that or a small, portable hospital tank on wheels to get around without dropping blue-lipped in my tracks from O2 deprivation.
It's actually not true, but I'm sure sound that way. I tend to alarm people who have never walked anywhere with me. They assume that I am a complete couch potato who never does any exercise at all. But underneath the flabby disguise I wear are some serious muscles. No kidding. Even my dear hubby is amazed by them. He should be. At any given time I can flex my pectoral muscles independently. Oh yeah. Be afraid. Be very afraid. That kind of skill is in such high demand...
As evidence that during the Fest weekend neither Beth nor Pete killed me for my lack of matching their walking speeds over this weekend, this particular blog is being written AFTER the Fest has indeed come to its conclusion. I'm also extremely sure that they dialed down their own walking speed by about 12,000 notches or so just so they wouldn't leave in the dust a completely directionless woman wandering around greater Nashville asking people which way was north... or south... or whatever direction it is that would take me home. (Beth informed me that it was WEST, then south. SIGH!)
It goes without saying that they both would have secretly (or openly!) enjoyed the spectacle of me wandering around like a waif from person to person seeking directions like a kid in a scavenger hunt competition. I am a good and rich source of amusement for other people when it comes to my complete lack of direction finding skills. But to be fair, I at least know what CITY I am in... most of the time.
Also, because they love me, they would probably have covertly snapped pictures from undisclosed locations to be employed for their bribery purposes. The warm feeling that I get on this is all without measure. To be frank, it would have made the event just that more hilarious. But face it, we are ALL kinds of off-kilter which is probably why we enjoy each others company. That's just how we roll. And if you can't take a couple of gut punches of reality, then you can't survive the friendship anyway.
Due to some crapola about having to be an adult, go to work and being responsible and blah blah blah, Pete wasn't with us Thursday night. He was due to arrive sometime Friday afternoon instead, so it was just us girls at concert time. When it was time to leave the hotel room just in time to miss the shuttle bus and set out for our CMA Fest musical adventure at the stadium, Beth and I walked over the bridge and down to LP Field from the hotel. It wasn't even a mile.
Big whoop. I do over a mile almost every single day plus some either at the gym or around the neighborhood with Princess Pig, the Assassin Dog. So it wasn't like it was going to be an awful task, plus there was music waiting for me as my reward for the short hike.
It all sounded SOOOO reasonable - a nice walk in the evening to LP Field. Unfortunately, the impact of the 93 gazillion percent humidity
made the walk over for me a pretty fair equivalent of bathing in my clothes. Sticky, humid, shower steam icky. I'm relatively sure
that the effect of the humidity was made infinitely worse by the addition of a world
class, heat producing, energy sapping hot flash that makes menopause
even less fun than I had imagined - as if hot flashes and menopause are ever supposed to be fun anyway. What idiot thought that up?
If we could just find a way for science to harness all of that heat energy, certainly it would have provided more than sufficient potency for all of the lights at LP Field plus enough left over to power all the sound equipment. At the very least, the heat could have offered steam-generated power for a small Third World country. Talk about a renewable natural resource! WHEW!
We took to the line at the gates at LP Field to have our bags searched for contraband and weapons. We had
neither so we were duly scanned, beeped and herded through one of the
various turnstiles that led to the weekend Mecca of Music - LP Field and the Fest
therein. Around and about through the corridors and concourses along with a quick pit stop to the
ladies room later (as if a women's restroom trip is EVER quick!), we trotted down the stairs to the floor level of the
stadium to our seats. It was going to be right up front near the stage!!
WOO HOO!
Our seating for the three amigos minus one was in Section A, Row 9, seats
18, 19, and 20 respectively. For the record, that's in the Gold Circle area of the seats
where we are right in sweat flinging distance of the stage. Sort of
like having the artists come and perform in your living room for you
minus your air conditioning but plus sound and sights that you don't get with just the radio on.
Thankfully, the temperatures were truly
moderate for the Fest. There have been past years that people, including Beth and Pete, talked about where they had either roasted in the unrelenting heat
or were soaked by pelting rainfall. Neither was the case Thursday evening, for which I was personally very thankful.
The concerts at LP Field feel both very intimate because of the proximity to those artists whom I normally only hear on my iTouch or the radio and also somewhat like you are swamped in a sea of humanity as you listen to real life played out in song with thousands of your new best friends, some of whom try to sit in your lap.
Do what??? Yep. Fact.
Since Pete wasn't yet with us on Thursday night, we rationalize that we had an empty "buffer seat" that we
thought would be a help in stowing our gear bags and in keeping us from melting to our seats from being wedged in like sardines. The chairs were even zip tied together!! Alas, the buffer seat was not to be...
but more on that little adventure later on... so stay tuned.
The arena for the concerts is like a soup bowl filled with a microcosm of country music fans that is a confetti colored spectacle of our shared lives for one weekend a year. Technicolor does not do it justice and the cameras that were there to record and rebroadcast the event will NEVER be able to reproduce the kind of emotions that were flowing like running water through that stadium. It was like connective tissue set to the music of a steel guitar and a country drumbeat like a heart pumping the vital music through us all. I do believe God loves good country music because it is so emotionally energetic about who we are and what our journey in this life is all about. Also, I have to wonder what HIS cowboy boots look like... I'm sure they are spectacular!
Back to the fans sitting in your lap thingy... the family sitting to our immediate right as we faced the stage were not small people. None of them. Being a big girl myself, I hesitate to discuss these kinds of things because I am acutely aware of trying to not touch anyone whom I happen to be sitting by without express permission because everyone needs their personal space. It irks me to have mine intruded upon by people whom I do not know and I do not want to be the kind of person who intrudes upon the space of another, particularly someone who is a complete stranger or who may just be strange. It just ain't right!!
MAKE HIM STOP TOUCHING ME! It is almost as if you have descended to the level of your 5 year old self in the car with your siblings who are touching you and breathing up your share of the air in the back seat of the station wagon. You know the drill. You've said the words, unless, of course, that you were an only child -- in which case saying them in the back seat just makes you scary creepy and I don't want to sit by you anyway.
Also, it feels kinda icky, creepy strange being touched by folks you don't have any kind of a relationship with and you never know what they are thinking either. Or how recently they may have washed whatever they are touching you with... gross. Just gross! Eeeewwwww!
Apparently, the gal sitting next to us had no such compunctions regarding personal space or any space restrictions at all, for that matter. She was a big gal. She took up her chair, half of the "buffer chair" and just kept on coming toward Beth. At one point, I was concerned that Beth would become the personal couch cushion for this young lady who didn't quite seem to be joining us in the real world. She appeared to be about a half a bubble off of plumb. She kept encroaching upon "our space" and looked as if she was about to plop herself down into Beth's lap.
At that point, I offered to swap seats with Beth and "take one for the team", but since Beth was about to be up and out trotting around taking pictures and learning how to use all the various settings on her new hotness Mother's Day camera, she said "no", and for the time being, the seating didn't seem to be that big a deal. She also said that when Pete got there Friday night, that would become HIS seat and he could fight off the seat stealing usurper all night. I'm certain he was personally and affectionately warmed in a deeply held emotional fashion by Beth thinking of him and his needs that way. HA!
But regardless of the personal condition of our new neighbor, her mental status, and also because I have a child of my own who isn't in the same realm as the rest of us, I firmly but politely informed the young lady who kept heading in our direction that she could not and would not be allowed to keep migrating into our seats and spreading herself out regardless of the comforts of the other around her. She got the message and actually went back to her very own well-filled chair.
When Beth got back from her picture taking excursion, the young lady in question attempted one last time to "keep on keeping on", but eventually was informed by both her sister and her father that she couldn't keep scooting over. Yeah! A victory for our side!
I actually felt sorry for the young lady because she was obviously not the one for whom the tickets had been purchased. She had a handheld gaming device to which she devoted all of her time and energy. Her sister, for whom the tickets must have been bought, was singing every lyric to the top of her lungs and dancing along with the music. The parents seemed to just be there in a sort of seat filling role. They didn't, so far as I observed through various moments during the night, sing the lyrics to one single song nor did they get up and dance. They kept to their unobstructed view of the people's butts in front of them all night long. I have no doubt that the tickets were purchased for the benefit of "the one" instead of the entire family.
Though I am in no position to judge their motivations, I do wonder sometimes why ONE parent and the child who was interested didn't just come by themselves? That seems a trifle expensive just to butt watch all night long. Sometimes we do make that decision with Jared to only go for whom is interested when we know that he truly wouldn't get anything out of an experience other than getting out of the house. If that is the sole motivating factor in doing something, we can sit on the porch for free, which is a whole lot less costly than paying for tickets to an event for which Jared would have no real interest.
When the introductions and welcoming were out of the way, our host for the evening let us know that the event was about to be underway. The immortal Glen Campbell opened up the show for us. WOO HOO!
I love Glen Campbell! He reminds me of Momma because she liked his music.
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| Mr. Glen Campbell |
Alzheimer's Disease has made its presence known to Mr. Campbell. He has publicly issued a press statement saying that he is struggling with the disease and the effects of same, so it wasn't as if we didn't know this was going to be something a little bit different for our previously shared musical experiences on the radio or albums. Although his memory for his music spans decades, he had a little trouble accessing it due to the effects of the disease. His short term memory was most affected and Glen also needed a row of teleprompters to electronically scroll the lyrics to keep him singing the right things at the right time.
Glen's keyboard player gently kept him focused on the song he was to sing right then and kept him going on forward through each song in his set as he tried to close out his appearance and leave the stage following every single song.
He seemed genuinely surprised that we WANTED to hear him sing again and I'm sure that his humble nature would have felt that way had Alzheimer's not been any part of the equation. Glen never seemed to have a big head or big ego about his music anyway. That was always part of his charm and charisma as an entertainer, too, that idea that he wasn't too big for his britches nor that he expected any special treatment for his talent.
Some people were muttering unkind things about Mr. Campbell's current circumstances as if this farewell tour for Glen was just some kind of bone the CMA people threw at him. How wrong they are!! It is an open and loving homage to a man who changed the face of country music by his very sound and presence!
I confess that it made me mad that those few rude "fans", who claim to love country music, could take one of their own and boot him to the curb as if he was just so much trash just because he went up on his lyrics a couple of times... actually, it kinda made me pretty hopping mad. I've seen PLENTY of younger people blow their lines, but folks seem to forgive that kind of oops and make excuses for them. But, then, I have to remember that some people were raised by wolves.
Plus, it's just like what Kari said one time, "I hope they live a charmed life", because some folks couldn't manage to deal with Mr. Campbell's reality under a great deal of pressure for a life he has known but can't quite get a grip on anymore.
Plus, it's just like what Kari said one time, "I hope they live a charmed life", because some folks couldn't manage to deal with Mr. Campbell's reality under a great deal of pressure for a life he has known but can't quite get a grip on anymore.
If those fair weather "fans" are troubled by the forgetfulness of Glen's singing the wrong lyrics, imagine how troubling it is to Glen himself when he becomes disoriented in public and visiting the unsureness and confusion of being on stage and truly not knowing why he is there or what comes next after a lifetime of being "The Man" in country music! Respect for those who have paved the way for all who have followed is a matter of deep concern to me and the fact that they not only didn't respect Glen and his decades in the business nor offer any deference to his circumstance just rubs me the wrong way.
For me however, Glen's diminished condition wasn't the main issue.
My focus was entirely driven by the fact that someone who had once crooned to me from the radio speakers of my childhood was right there on the stage in front of my very eyes! It was personally an incomparable treat to hear a true living legend in Country music open up his mouth and sing "By the Time I Get to Phoenix"!
It was as if the radio had systematically unfolded to magically bring him from the sound only world of radio and right out in front of me live and in person to share his gifts. I truly felt that I was the lucky recipient of all God had granted Glen in his musical life. His was an amazing performance and, in the final analysis, a truly beautiful reminder that while all of us will eventually come to grips with our own mortality be it soon or late, there are left to some of us who appreciate them the remnants of what our journey together as fans and artists has meant to those who love them most.
It was as if the radio had systematically unfolded to magically bring him from the sound only world of radio and right out in front of me live and in person to share his gifts. I truly felt that I was the lucky recipient of all God had granted Glen in his musical life. His was an amazing performance and, in the final analysis, a truly beautiful reminder that while all of us will eventually come to grips with our own mortality be it soon or late, there are left to some of us who appreciate them the remnants of what our journey together as fans and artists has meant to those who love them most.
Glen played and crooned and sang his way through a small selection of the hits that made him a gold record standard in the Country Music Hall of Fame. I think his band guided him through 4 or 5 numbers. Frankly, I lost count - swallowed up in the emotion of each lyric that I sang along with and remembering being at back at home as a kid hearing his voice pouring through the Hi-Fi in the living room.What a wonderful way to go out - reliving the highs that brought him fame and such joy to all of us who know every single syllable, musical nuance and guitar picked chord of Glen's God-given talent!
When Mr. Campbell's set was over and the well deserved thunderous applause from his real fans echoed to a close, the main stage was altered yet again to later welcome Miranda Lambert and, later on, her side group, the Pistol Annies. While the crew was efficiently rigging up the various equipment and microphones for the ladies, another gal took to the midfield stage in the round to sing. Kellie Pickler was previously a contestant on American Idol back in the day. She was a cute little homespun gal who had a big voice. Now famous and making a big splash in the country music pond, for me, hers wasn't a particularly inspiring performance. It was just so-so. Plus, I'm not a Pickler fan to begin with so I'm sure that had some bearing on my judgment of her acoustic set.
When all the changes were done on the main stage, Miranda Lambert came out and blew the doors off the hinges up on big stage. She was flat out fantabulous! Plus, she sang so many things I knew the words to that it was lots of fun to participate with her in the music. Miranda is sassy, knows how to throw all of her talent and emotion behind each word and really drive her songs to their conclusions.
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| Ms. Miranda Lambert |
Of course, it's always fun to sing along to the lyrics of songs like "Gunpowder and Lead" about a gal finally growing a backbone against an abuser. Probably shouldn't be taking such glee out of the bad guy getting his comeuppance via shotgun, but dang, it's hilarious and he SHOULD get some kind of justice for the abuse! One thing country music has done for women over the years is empower them. No shy, retiring doormats are the women of country!!
As a special bonus on a Southern summer Thursday night, Jason Aldean commanded the stage and shook things up while Beth drooled. It's a wonder that her new camera didn't get hosed. That much drool surely needs a towel. Since Jason is unarguably one of her favorites, her level of enthusiasm for his performance grew at a fever pitch and I can truly understand why. He is an incredible
singer and showman who possesses a truly expressive singing style. Mr.
Aldean is also some pretty attractive eye candy.
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| Mr. Jason Aldean |
HEY!! Be nice!!
I meant that sincerely as I am simply saying that I appreciate all the time, care and craftsmanship
God applied to this particular part of His creation. Jason is both handsome AND talented. A pretty decent combination indeed. And it doesn't ever hurt to listen to someone sing who is also pretty fair to look upon.
I really enjoyed listening to Jason fire up "She's Country"! I have to say that is one of my favorite songs of his... okay... among one of my favorites. He has SO many from which to choose!! I also love "Big Green Tractor". That song makes me happy. It's just feel good, down home country. Makes me think of a farmer boy I dated back in the day... aah, sweet memories...!
He cranked up "Tattoos On This Town". Man that song is fantastic! It's a classic already. He also sang "Flyover States". A wonderful reminder that the people on each coast are not the be all and end all of what makes up America and the people who inhabit this great nation.
When Jason Aldean finished working the crowd (and particularly Beth!) into a rowdy, vocal, screaming, singing, excited frenzy (down girl! down!), the applause was sustained, heartfelt and thunderous. It was also richly deserved. That man sure knows how to keep us all happy with some seriously great music.
After a brief set change, some mindless chatter, and some cheering on cue while the circle in the round stage was taping a segment for the CMA Fest broadcast in September, the trio Lady Antebellum came on and smoothed out all the creases.
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| Lady Antebellum... well, 2 out of 3 of them. |
Their harmonies and masterful arrangement of music was just brilliant. Listening to them sing and work their way through their live performance of "We Owned the Night" was just amazing! Anytime artists perform live, they have the ability and opportunity to tweak their material and this was no exception. It is a testament to their musical skill and their ability to read the crowd before whom they are performing. I also love the way that their voices blend and how they bend the notes around each other to make the harmonies just soar. It's truly a skill that has me in the palm of their hand. I could take a doggy bag of that home with me any day of the week and twice on Sundays. When Hillary started to sing "American Honey", it just put a collective spell on the audience. What an amazing group!
While I enjoy seeing AND hearing most artists, the same cannot be said as a truth for the Zac Brown Band. They are, for me, a group best heard but NOT seen. The lead, ol' Zac himself, has but ONE facial expression when he sings and he never seems to be smiling. His facial expression is somewhere between a bearded grimace and a forced grin that leaves me feeling like I've just poked a bear or have been dealing with a used car salesman, so I'd rather close my eyes while he sings. It's much more pleasant to listen him sing that way and I'm not disturbed by that disgusting knit watch cap he has shoved down over his hair to make his mountain man beard look that much bushier and unkempt. YUCK!!
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| The Hair Beast - Zac Brown |
Thankfully, my wonderful hubby Rick keeps his own beard neat and trimmed! Otherwise, I'd have to sedate him and fix it myself. As I was watching the Zac Brown Band perform, I truly wished I'd had either a harpoon tipped with anesthetic or some kind of blow gun and a tranquilizer dart to make Mr. Brown have both a better look and a genuinely normal and nicer smile even if I had to paste it on him myself. The music was good, but the look... not so much. For the life of me, I cannot imagine a woman who thinks that is sexy, but different strokes for different folks, just please keep all of those strokes to yourself, honey.
"Keep Me in Mind" is a catchy little tune that is begging for a girl to remember that a lonesome and love starved man is watching her from afar and seeing her go from man to man and wishing she would see the love in his nerdy, stalker heart he'd like to give to her. Kinda like seeing a sweet, nerdy guy watching the popular, beautiful and clueless head cheerleader whom he tutors in math serially date a bunch of loser jocks, the song tells her that he's praying that she will come to love him only and petitions her to keep him in mind for the day she winds up lonely.
Good luck there, buddy. Until you are Bill Gates rich, that gal won't notice you for beans. Hahaha! Yeah, I'm evil. But you should know that already. Should you happen to be stunned by that information, I'm truly sorry to have shattered your expectations!
They also sang "Chicken Fried". I really love that song! It's an ode to absolutely everything good about being "country". Patriotism, family, love and some fried chicken rolled up into a musical package as silky smooth as your Grandma's good Sunday gravy on fresh, hot, creamy mashed home-style potatoes. (Gee, I wonder if this means I'm hungry since I'm mixing my metaphors with food imagery?)
After the Zac Brown band got done performing their portion of the night's entertainment, Lauren Alaina took to the center stage to sing. I was shocked at how much she had changed since her star turn on American Idol! Her pretty long hair was now whacked off to shoulder-length bob short and her honey blonde sun-kissed tresses were now platinum, hard-edged blond and just plain weird.
I truly hope it's just a phase she is going through and that she grows her pretty hair out again and goes back to her natural color with its highlights. She sang so well that it was hard to really think about anything else but her lovely songs. Her song "Georgia Peaches" is a cute one and she sang it well in her acoustic set. I have to say that sometimes the stripped down songs are better than the ones with all the studio work attached to them. It's like hearing them new for the very first time. Lauren also sang one called "Eighteen Inches" that spoke of the difference between making decisions with your head and taking the time to think with your heart before you choose. Carrie Underwood wrote it for her. How cool is that? It was a really good song and I hope Lauren will have a good, long career.
Finally, the evening was made complete for me as my "country boyfriend" Brad Paisley took the stage. How can you NOT like Brad?? He is just a hoot to hear on the funny songs and will melt your heart completely away on his love songs! Plus, when Thomas and Tianna chose "Then" as THEIR song, I was convinced that Brad Paisley's music defies all generational boundaries and is the music of our era.
Gee, I hope that doesn't put too much pressure on Brad to sing well for me tonight.
WOOOOOOOO BRAD!!!
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| BRAD! |
Of course, the seventh level of hog heaven was not high enough to describe how excited I was to hear him sing just to MEEEEEEE!! It kind of feels that way at times because his music is so rich and filled with so many images from my life as I scroll through them as Brad sings.
When the music started and Brad tackled his guitar with such fervor, it was a personal experienced. The venue felt somewhat different. It was as if things had come into sharp relief. Strangely, it felt as if all of those other people that had previously been around me at LP Field had all mysteriously AND simultaneously left for a hot dog and a bag of pretzels mere moments before Brad's set --- HEY! that's my story and I'm sticking to it! So there!
A word to the wise when it comes to attire: Camouflage isn't just for the military. The boys and girls of the South apply it as a fully complete fashion statement. Those who are in the know realize that camo has more uses than hiding from your enemies and from the deer you are stalking. Brad's song says the same in musical terms. It's hilarious! The part I love the best is him talking about him and his prom date dressed in camo and all you can see in their backyard prom pictures is their faces and their hands.
♪♫ Camouflage! ♪♫ Camouflage! ♫♪
Brad also sang another of my favorites, "This is Country Music". That song truly speaks to the shared experience of singing along to the ebbs and flows of all of our lives through the music that has made Nashville synonymous with country music, country people and country living. Aah, Brad. Like a fine wine, you just get better with every passing year of performing perfection!
Brad sang a new song with Hank "Bocephus" Williams, Jr. It was pretty good. It's called "I’m Gonna Get Drunk and Play Hank Williams". It's an awesome song. When it was over and the applause was still resounding in the stadium, Hank, Jr. abruptly left the stage. He didn't hang around much afterwards. I imagine he had his head in a bottle pretty quickly after he left the stage.
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| Brad-cephus and Bocephus |
As he sang each song, Brad was bringing all kinds of memories into sharp focus. It's such a wonderful thing to hear and experience the emotional connection between an artist and his music that way! Kinda like having a personal introduction to a part of their soul. And maybe, just maybe, when we common folk sing along, he can feel that same comfortable admittance into ours.
When the last, dying note of the concerts was complete, we reluctantly began our hike back up the stairs to walk back to the hotel for the night. I truly didn't want the concerts to end, but I suppose that everyone was tired and needed their rest. I am also equally sure that none of us actually got that much rest, but isn't that WHY we come on vacations? So we can go home more tired than when we left for the trip but somehow manage to arrive home feeling more refreshed? Strange but true.
Since the concerts didn't get over until past midnight, it was already early Friday morning by the time we were getting in. As the group crossing the bridge began to thin by degrees as party seekers, hotel guests and evening hook-ups all peeled off from the herd to find their locations for the night, we were in a small group of half a dozen or so who all shared the same hotel for the evening, but thankfully not the same room. That would just have been awkward, plus I would have had to share the sofa bed and I'm thinking it was already having enough issues to tempt fate by adding another body to the mix.
We got up to our room, #415 to be exact, and set about making our early morning bedding down arrangements. The suite of rooms we were inhabiting had a bedroom/lounge with a bed and couch which was the area Beth and Pete would take. I was in the living room/kitchen area that had a foldout sofa bed.
Oh, what a prize that sofa bed was! You would have to go a long way around the world to find it's equal or at least something as equally uncomfortable. It was definitely a candidate for a yard sale special. You'd have to pay someone just to take it. We folded it out to much hilarity. It sloped from the head area of the bed down to the toes at a pretty good angle. And, as an added bonus, it also listed dangerously to one side.
As you lay down upon it, you were sliding down and to the right directly into a section of the under-girding which was precariously unattached to the frame. It flapped giddily in the air conditioning currents. Hmm. This can't be good! Visions of my being trapped in the bed frame with the dangling remnants of under-pinning flailing around me or of being flipped up and folded back into the couch frame flowed through my brain.
I could well imagine my muffled screaming from inside the upholstery and no one coming to save me... well, at least no one coming who wouldn't first kindly take and then post pictures to Facebook complete with their OWN muffled screaming... only this time it would be screaming with laughter. It's nice to have friends in low places.
The bed was a caution for the entire visit to the hotel. The fold out sofa bed was not going to be easy to subdue, but I was willing to give it my all, or at least as much as I could spare. Plus, the only other option was the bathtub, except for the fact that our room only had a walk-in shower. I'm thinking that walk-in shower wouldn't have been any more comfortable than the sofa bed. It would have made for a restless night as people needed to come into the bathroom to use the toilet... it would have also been like being at home with the haunted toilet flushing itself randomly at odd intervals. Just enough to disturb sleep patterns but not enough to prevent any sleep at all from happening.
FRIDAY
We survived the night's remnants of sleep, little though they were and got out to the Riverfront music area for the morning concerts that started about 10 a.m. the next day. It's a beautiful grassy slope that has been carefully prepared as an outdoor amphitheater for performers to ply their craft by the river's side. Because I do NOT need a sunburn with my skin cancer history, I baptized myself in SPF 70 sunscreen and took a little travel tube of extra sunscreen for reapplication later in the morning. Beth also lathered herself up so that she could keep from turning into bacon.
While the temps were cooler than normal for the Fest, they weren't cool enough or absent enough sunshine to be stupid about applying sunscreen. We slathered on and re-applied later on to make sure that we weren't burned as the sun climbed higher into the sky.
While the temps were cooler than normal for the Fest, they weren't cool enough or absent enough sunshine to be stupid about applying sunscreen. We slathered on and re-applied later on to make sure that we weren't burned as the sun climbed higher into the sky.
Did you know Bullfrog sunscreen tastes nasty?
Yeah, me neither... until I got a mouthful of it. Yummy. NOT!!!
Partway through the Riverfront concerts, Beth was kindly helping me get the sunscreen reapplied to save my hide and helpfully gave me a squirt of the Bullfrog spray on sunscreen to my face. Well intentioned and truly thinking of me on this one, but oh, intention and execution were about three different things!
Sadness!!!
The intent was good, and was designed to save me from repeat skin cancer but the aim was off and I wound up with it in my mouth. Not yummy. Not yummy at all!! Thank goodness I'll never have to worry about my tongue being sunburned since I had all of that lotion on it because while I was trying to spit the nasty taste out of my mouth, my tongue was out in the sun A LOT so it must have worked.
Man!! That stuff tastes horrible!! I don't think there is much of anything that tastes worse! UGH!! I'm not even sure I want to KNOW what might taste worse! I don't want to contemplate the possibilities.
To be completely in compliance with full disclosure of our sunscreen mishaps for the day, Beth was wearing flip flop-type sandals. I'm sure they sounded like a good idea at the time. But, because she also had forgotten to put sunscreen on her feet, they kinda got bacony... the feet not the shoes. The feet were sort of toasted but not completely extra crispy.
I did, however, wonder if her sunburned feet smelled like bacon... I'm
sure Alexis will let her know that answer when we get home. Dogs are BIG
fans of bacon and Alexis is no exception. If Beth's sunburned feet were
bacon scented, Alexis would lick the hide off of her trying to find out
why Mom had left town and came home smelling like snack food.
She also took a run back to the hotel and returned to the concert venue. I don't even remember WHY she went back, but the fact that she did it in sandals was amazing. I couldn't have run it with my tennis shoes on, but not only did Beth run it in sandals, she did it in a good time. Even with the bacony feet... what a woman! (Beth just informed me it was to retrieve the camera card and I shouldn't be amazed because she runs that street all the time during the Nashville run, albeit not in flip flops. Doesn't matter. I'm still amazed. I'd break my fool neck just attempting to run ANYWHERE in flip flops).
As a personal note to be filed under the "Way Too Much Information" heading, when the call of nature sounds at an event of this magnitude that encompasses both day and nighttime activities, there are way too many people in attendance to hope to use any sort of indoor plumbing and we are reduced to our country roots right down to our outhouse using selves.
Sure, they have some kind of cute little name attached to them like "Sani-Site" or "Johnny-Boy" or some such rot, but we who have been born and bred to be country from our roots to our boots know it is nothing more or less than a plastic constructed, factory built, glorified and colorful, homespun family outhouse.
Sure, they have some kind of cute little name attached to them like "Sani-Site" or "Johnny-Boy" or some such rot, but we who have been born and bred to be country from our roots to our boots know it is nothing more or less than a plastic constructed, factory built, glorified and colorful, homespun family outhouse.
In all families, there are resident issues that must be considered when using an outhouse. There are always the sprinklers, the drippers, the hosers and the stinkers who make the outhouse a not-so-beloved necessity.
As a person who is well acquainted with years of relying upon the now seldom used legitimately wooden constructed, moon-in-the-door, slant roofed, humble, graying outhouses on skids, I can speak openly about the fact that each of these Nouveau plastic outhouses doesn't smell any better that their forebears for all of their modern features. They still smell EXACTLY like what they are.
They also require a great amount of "before-I-shut-this-door" lung capacity because you certainly do not want to draw a breath of any sort while enclosed in their aromatic interior. In the words of my late Aunt Jewel, 'You can call it anything you want to, it ain't nothing but a fancy shit house!" Well thank you, Aunt Jewel. Don't sugarcoat it, just tell us how you really feel. She would have laughed wickedly at this point.
When the humidity is up to 93 gazillion percent and you REALLY have to go in a hurry, if you are a female, you'd best make a plan to go LONG BEFORE it is a hurry-up situation because you will need ample time to peel your sweaty, stuck to the skin undies off of you in a slow motion, painstaking and laborious process that will leave you pee-scented if you don't allot enough time for the outhouse aerobics you will be compelled to wade through before you get to the urination promised land of relief.
This is to say NOTHING about the reverse processes that will be needed to get yourself dressed again in said sweaty, sticky undies when the job is done in order to leave the well-perfumed water closet in which you are now baking by slow degrees. I wonder if health insurance would consider this an on the job injury risk?
Have you ever wondered why some enterprising woman who has endured a summertime plastic outhouse experience hasn't invented a portable butt shoehorn to help you squidge up those wet, summer sweaty undies back into place? Lord knows the thought has crossed my mind a million times at various camp-outs, carnivals and festivals... The aerobic activity to pull these undies back on is roughly 25 times harder than the level of fitness required to get them off. This has all been tested in a secret underground government facility somewhere that receives a barrel of taxpayer subsidies every year.
Now that you are done with your shaking leg peeing from trying to hold yourself up from touching either the seat or anything else that might permanently contaminate you for time and all eternity, you find that you are reduced to maneuvers that would make even the most fit person develop muscular elbows, biceps and fingertips that are all accomplished while trying not to touch any unsanitary surfaces in the outhouse o' doom.
Plus, did I mention that there is a tiny, little inconvenience that makes things a bit more embarrassing. What could make your day more exciting than sitting in a echoing sound chamber that radiates your every bathroom noise to the outside world? Privacy is a non-issue, people.
Then, there is the additional 'blessing' of the commentary of those waiting for you on the outside. There is truly nothing worse than hearing people waiting on you to "hurry up" say things like "What's taking her so long?"
Really? Like that is helping my shy bladder and tightly gripped sphincter muscles to perform their job? Are you kidding me? It's not like I've gone into this outhouse to bake cookies or something pleasant!! Shut up and go find something nearby to occupy yourself!
Resisting the temptation to actually tell them who wait for me over the various events in years gone by, it has on more than one occasion required me to bite my tongue so many times that I have wondered why I don't have permanent teeth marks across it.
Then again, if you actually TOLD them who wait upon you the bitter truth about what exactly was taking so long, they'd be laughing so hard, people would think it was the launching point for the "Redneck Comedy Tour" to kickoff their new "Outhouses Across America Tour".
Then again, if you actually TOLD them who wait upon you the bitter truth about what exactly was taking so long, they'd be laughing so hard, people would think it was the launching point for the "Redneck Comedy Tour" to kickoff their new "Outhouses Across America Tour".
On this particular issue, I think I can safely say that women get the shaft on the undies and humidity issue since most men DO NOT sit down to pee. And, as a related and gross side note, men and boys apparently don't feel the need to AIM in these shared plastic, solar oven-like pee-scented outhouses which is yet another reason it takes women longer to get done than it does the men. If women could just emulate their brethren and fling the door open and let it fly without completely disrobing half of our body to intemperate circumstance, we'd line up in DROVES to vote "yes" to that option.
Again, we are back at the raised by wolves issue. I've never seen any male wolf worry about the mess he leaves when he lets it fly... obviously Momma wolf was busy correcting one of the female pack members on how to prepare dinner for the males and didn't have time to teach the boy wolves the motto "We aim to please. YOU aim, too, please!" to her male offspring.
So, in addition to the normal porta john worries of "don't touch the seat, it could be contaminated", "don't let your pants or undies touch the seat or they'll get wet", "don't touch the side or the floor of the facility" and "don't put your purse on the floor or it will be covered in E-Coli", now women in these primitive conditions must deal with the reality that ANY surface in these porta potties may well now be deemed "the toilet".
Eeeeewwww! Gross!
Now I am officially AFRAID to use the bathroom. In fact, I really don't think I need to go all that badly anymore. Maybe I can just hold it in for another 10 or 12 hours and simply wait to pee back in the hotel bathroom that has that reassuring little paper safety strip across the toilet seat that lets me know that either Lupita or Marva has just sanitized it for all they were worth during their shift at the No Tell Motel Inn. Okay, so I'm HOPING that little strip means it's cleaner than the porta johns because frankly, it can't be dirtier.
For the record, all of this fun has happened and it isn't even noon!!
Friday still rages on, people! Keep up! Drink plenty of fluids! It's hot outside and you don't want to risk dehydration even if it means you have to hop into the porta potties 85 times and hope for the best!
Friday still rages on, people! Keep up! Drink plenty of fluids! It's hot outside and you don't want to risk dehydration even if it means you have to hop into the porta potties 85 times and hope for the best!
We went to visit some of the various booths that lined The Buckle and also in a couple of alleyways nearby. I won a t-shirt for my fishing "skills" from the Emerald Coast vacation company. It only took me 5 attempts to land the little rubber dolphin into the bucket. They had an awning overhead which prevented my normally decent overhand cast and I was left with a sidearm sling that let my rubber dolphin hit their RV and bounce all over creation.
Finally, I did a flip handed cast of the child size fishing rod and had success with which I was rewarded by the T-shirt. Hey, I don't mind. T-shirts are always a welcome addition to my wardrobe. I never have enough because I'm always spilling, spraying, splashing or staining something onto them in various locations.
Beth got us t-shirts at the Pedigree booth and a collar for Alexis as well. They had a nice setup to help emphasize pet adoptions in the Nashville area. The doggies were so cute! I would have taken them all home but I'm relatively certain that Rick would not have been amused. The t-shirts are black and say "It's not country if there ain't a dog in it!" and on the front it bears the Pedigree logo and says "Dogs rule". Works for me. I love dogs.
We also visited in the Shania Twain booth mostly just to get in out of the hot weather since they had air conditioning in their enclosed booth. NICE! When you are sweating down into your sox, it's nice to have a break from the drizzle. Also, I picked up a little battery powered fan while we were there. It doesn't have much power but it was cute and it moves the air a bit. They also had funeral fans with Shania Twain in place of Jesus on them. For those for whom this reference is strange or obscure, let me explain.
In the South in earlier times, the issue of heat plus humidity compelled funeral homes far and wide to come up with a solution that would ensure the mourners would be able to sit through the UN-air-conditioned services of bygone days. While they could and did keep the dearly departed on ice prior to the service, literally not figuratively, they couldn't afford to let the visitors sit on the ice to keep cool.
Some enterprising individual combined a bit of religious fervor with a flat fan. They generally boasted advertising for the compassionate funeral service offered by a particular company on one side and then a high quality color picture of Jesus as the Good Shepherd or Jesus knocking on the door or Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount plastered on the other side. Then there was a big Popsicle stick to which it was stapled that was used to help the mourners fan themselves with whatever breeze they could find or to create a breeze with more rapid motion of the fans. These fans were passed out by some dignified man in a suit as the mourners, family and friends filed into the steamy Southern funeral parlors near and far. Everyone got a fan because the business owners were hedging their bets. Eventually, EVERYONE has to go and that only means business for the funeral parlors. So, with a fan from Sheffield's Funeral Home or McConnell's Service or the Mount Ivy Mortuary tucked into the average Southern woman's Bible following a funeral and which would be carried to church with her on Sundays until it broke, it was some pretty cheap advertising that kept their company name on the lips of community members "Until the need arose".
Children at these services generally acted respectful with their Jesus fans while people were watching them, then they employed the fans to whack each other when the grownups were otherwise engaged in expressing their deep condolences to the family of the dearly departed. Later on, they were irreverently trimmed down to strips of pasteboard to create motorcycle sounds when clothes pinned to bicycle spokes, which is ALSO a revered Southern tradition. And if that doesn't bring back memories, then you skipped a dang good childhood.
The pasteboard Shania fans were basically the glorified, updated, star-turned version of the same thing. They featured the information for her debut at Caesar's Palace in Vegas in December and a pretty picture of the singer on the other side which did nothing to detract from the utility purpose of the fan, which was to keep people from dropping like flies in the heat.
During the week, we collected various little pasteboard fans bearing all sorts of advertising and also all kinds of shapes from boots, to cowboy hat silhouettes to tiny squares that could be removed to make drink coasters. I was thankful to have the little funeral fans because sometimes there just wasn't a breath of air passing anywhere near us and it was nice to keep the circulation moving.
While we were in the Shania booth, we watched some cute little thing record her version of a Shania song. She had a really good voice and did a fine job. We applauded wildly. Hey, who knows? In future years, we may be applauding her on the big stage at the Fest.
Later, after our swag grabbing trip to The Buckle, we returned to the grassy lawn to take in more music. While baking on the sunny slopes of the amphitheater, Beth and I decided it was time for something cool to drink because we had sucked our water and Gatorade bottles drier than dust and because the free water refill station didn't have any cold water, it was just wet. Wet water at virtually any temperature is fine most days, but on hot, blue jean Daisy Duke wearing summer sticky humid days, COLD and wet water was even better. Anything cold was better. Which probably explained the popularity of the beer wagons and the people who crowded them throwing fistfuls of cash at the proprietors for something colder than 88 degrees and 100% humidity.
Handing me some cash, Beth asked me to go uphill and get us a couple of sno-cones while she kept taking pictures of the action at the stage on the waterfront. Cool. I can do that. I have the technology. After all, it is a proven fact that we needed to be well hydrated to scream properly for Jo Dee Messina, who was coming up soon and for Gloriana who would be following. Then again, we can't let David Nail down since he was third in the afternoon "must see" line-up. Those people need our screams and we can't let them down! HA!
I got up and with Beth's very specific "do not get lost" directions on where to go to the sno-cone booth by the exit, I confidently shoved the money in my pocket, walked through the baking fans and over to the sno-cone stand. I went and waited patiently in line behind a veritable host of "wittle" kids who were getting half-sized sno-cones. I think I accurately counted 74 million of the little sprites holding out their sweaty money which was clutched in their sticky little hands and lisping their sno-cone orders to the wait staff.
None of these delightful midgets seemed to have any discernible parentage in tow. Hmm. I looked all around me for someone taller than 3 feet and saw NO ONE! How is this possible?
ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? What are people thinking to let kids this young and this little run all over out and about all alone??? Seriously, some perv could have had a field day there! These kids were small enough to cart off in a toe sack! HOLY HANNAH!
Anyhow, after suffering through their complicated orders requiring multiple flavor choices on one sno-cone for each of the belt high crowd, I finally got MY turn at the counter where I had been commanded prior to my departure from the grassy knoll to bring back "a blue" for Beth.
Like that is fresh information. She only eats ONE color of sno-cones in all the years we have known each other.
Blue.
B-L-U-E ... BLUE.
BLUE!
GET IT!! BLUE!!
GET IT!! BLUE!!
And do NOT be foolish enough to bring Beth back ANY other variety or you may well get to wear it. So I was careful and I finally got to place my order for Beth's "blue" sno-cone and my strawberry sno-cone. For the record, these are whacking great big sno-cones about the size of a kid's football. Regardless of their size, I am still concerned about them melting into mush in the heat long before I am able to navigate them safely through the plethora of sweaty people all jockeying for position in this milieu of multi cellular life forms. Some of them may even be human, but I'm not so sure on others. They all smell faintly of cocoa butter and sunscreens of various flavors. It is a stagnant aroma in a confined area and that smell combined with the heat coming from the air, the sidewalk and the host of hot bodied people (some literally some merely figuratively) is stifling, to say the least.
When I got back safely to our little patch of ground with spoons, napkins and sno-cones in tow, Beth seemed frankly surprised that I had navigated both to and from the designated stated goal without getting lost, misdirected, confused or allowing the sno-cones to turn to soup.
HEY!! I may well be quite navigationally clueless as a general rule, but when FOOD is concerned, my belly will generally tell me which direction to go. Plus, if I DO happen to get lost, I'm a natural blonde and not afraid to ask someone where to go. They may pat me on the head with their show of feigned sympathy, but they will eventually point me in the right direction. Besides which, people are ALWAYS telling me where to go... and some of it is even nice.
We ate the deliciously evil sno-cones and savored them as each of the cold, icy spoonfuls descended into our hot and dry parched throats and extended their cooling influence body wide. Why is it that summertime stuff like sno-cones always seems like such a big whacking deal when actually it's just shaved ice and colored sugar water? Science will NEVER discover the answer to that question. Never. They lack the sophistication to grasp the truth that the marriage between the common has produced the offspring of a summer miracle. It's just so simple and yet it is infinitely brilliant. Sno-cones are food of the gods.
Meanwhile, back at the Riverfront area and the activities therein, Jo Dee Messina was now front and center commanding the stage and so marvelous was her performance, it was as if no time had passed between today and her last concert. She has kinda been out of the game for a few years, but for the most noble of reasons. Jo Dee and her husband now have two sweet little kids, the youngest of which is only months old. You can't tell that Jo Dee has missed any time away vocally, though. Her beautiful and rich sound is still as fresh and strong as the first time I heard her sing. I'm certain that she sings to her children every single day.
Working her way through a few songs including my favorites of "My Give A Damn is Busted", "Heads Carolina, Tails California" and "I'm Alright", Jo Dee also introduced us to her newest song about being a mother. It was hilarious. Entitled "A Woman's Rant", Jo Dee first talked to the audience and asked how many of us were mothers. We threw our hands up in reply and then Jo Dee started to talk about how her husband would sleep through their baby screaming in the middle of the night when she was sick as a dog with the flu and a cough that lasted for months and so exhausted from it all that she couldn't get up. She even had a recording of her little baby crying! Aww!
The song she sang, "A Woman's Rant" spoke to the truth about a woman's work in the home and for the family and how other family member's duties wind up becoming a mother's responsibilities. It was all SO true and she did it all in such a funny way in the lyrics of the song!! I'm totally buying on iTunes for my music collection.
Gloriana was up next as the sun baking continued. The MC even told everyone to either turn over or reapply sunscreen and get some water. The members of Gloriana told a story about how they became a trio. The two brothers, Tom and Mike Gossin had come to Nashville and were trying their luck in music as a duo and not finding any real success. Rachel Reinert had likewise not found her place musically and hoping for her own big break. They met up at a nightclub and liked the sound they created, then they made it big and started recording. They sound really great and they sang their newest song "(Kissed You) Good Night" and a few other numbers.
Finishing up our day baking in the solar oven of the amphitheater on Friday was David Nail. He sang "Let It Rain", which is one of his newer songs as well as "Turning Home" and "The Sound of a Million Dreams". I really like his voice and he is sure to migrate from the Riverfront up to the big stage in the LP Field sometime in his near future. He said his parents were in the audience all the way from Missouri to see him sing at the Fest. That was cool. After David finished singing, Beth and I hiked back up the hill to the hotel to meet up with Pete and get ready for the music at LP Field that night. We rode over in the car for that since they had a parking pass in Pete's car.
The Oak Ridge Boys sang the National Anthem tonight! Talk about awesome! And they have been named as "Official Singers of the National Anthem" by the government! That's pretty cool. They also sang "Elvira" afterwards for us to sing along with them. I just LOVE the Oak Ridge Boys! Their bass reminds me of Rocky and his deep voice going lower and lower and lower!
When the CMA people were making plans for the Fest this year, they did a wonderful job of blending the old with the new. Ronnie Milsap came out next and sang his wonderful hits! He truly has a gift that has warmed many a heart. It was exciting to hear him sing "No Getting Over You". That has always been one of my favorites!
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| Mr. Ronnie Milsap |
Brantley Gilbert came onto the main stage next and sang "Dirt Road Anthem" and "A Modern Day Prodigal" and my personal favorite of his, "Country Must Be Country Wide".
Awesome, son! Sing it!! Brantley then sang "You Don't Know Her Like I Do". He really can sing, has a strong voice, and I enjoyed his set immeasurably. The weird part of all of this hero worshiping Fest scene is realizing that a lot of these singers we are salivating to hear are truly young enough to BE my kids. Scary. How did I get to be this dang old??
Not that I'm complaining really, keep slapping those birthday candles onto the cake, people, I've come too close too many times to not having any birthdays left. I'll adjust to the fact that those handsome boys of country could well have been babysat by me in other times.
Not that I'm complaining really, keep slapping those birthday candles onto the cake, people, I've come too close too many times to not having any birthdays left. I'll adjust to the fact that those handsome boys of country could well have been babysat by me in other times.
During the set change after cutie pie Brantley sang, we had a little bit of a break and then Jake Owen came up to sing. Another handsome lad, Jake performed "Don't Think I Can't Love You" along with several others including "Barefoot Blue Jean Night".
Sometimes I know who these new artists are and could pick them out of a lineup. Other times, I have no clue other than knowing that I like the music they produce. It was nice to connect a face to the songs. He also sang his song "Alone With You" about a guy who has a sometime girlfriend who only seems to pop into his life when she is plastered, horny and drunk, only coming by for a booty call which she keeps telling him is alright and he shouldn't mind.
When he sings the chorus about how tormented he is that she only kisses him when she is drunk and has no use for him the rest of the time, it truly reflects how some people have chosen to live their lives and it's a sad, sad song.
Gwen Sebastian sang next up on the little round stage in the middle of LP Field. She's actually one of Blake Shelton's back up singers. She was on some TV music reality show called "The Voice" and won her opportunity. Her voice was nice but I'd never heard of her before or remember hearing any of her music.
The Band Perry came up next. Kimberly, Reid and Neil Perry form the trio. They put on a good show. During their time on the big stage, they performed "If I Die Young". We all sang along to that one. They sang "You Lie" which was also a crowd favorite and they followed up with "All Your Life". I really like that one the best.
Then, it was time for Blake Shelton to take the stage. He was flat out, no holds barred AWESOME!! I know that word has been used a lot, but when you are in the presence of musical greatness, it's hard to have enough superlatives to use without repeating yourself in the telling.
He sang "Hillbilly Bone" and Blake also sang "God Gave Me You". I was thinking about Rick the whole time. Nice song.
It is all about how there is that one person who is the one who is the counterbalance to your life, who is there through it all and who makes it work. It's an amazingly wonderful song about the relationship that means the most to you in your life.
Blake also sang "All About Tonight" and "Honey Bee" which are both incredible songs that are fun to sing along to as well.
When the screaming all died down, it was time to usher another person to the acoustic set area. Randy Houser performed his set during the break
between Jason Aldean and Lady A. He is best known for a song Beth
reliably informed me is called "Boots On". A pretty well known writer
for some respectably big names in the biz, Randy has written or
co-written for the likes of Trace Adkins, Justin Moore and Jessie James.
Nice chops indeed.
Carrie Underwood came to the big stage to close the evening out. I really like her music and it seems with every passing year since her debut to the world on American Idol that she reaches deeper into her talent and brings out even more musical skill than before.
She sang lots of favorites in her set to include "Before He Cheats", "I Don't Even Know My Last Name", "Jesus Take the Wheel", "Wasted" and several others. She puts on a really good show. I just loved it when she sang "Cowboy Casanova"! That song is fun to sing along with, too!
Just before her set ended, Carrie sang her newest cut from her new album, Blown Away, entitled "Good Girl". It's a sassy tell-off kinda song warning good girls everywhere not to take on the bad boys of the world as some kind of service project because the bad boys do NOT intend to change for them or any other woman.
Her voice is really beautiful. Frankly, so is Carrie. I know that the artists are all good and attractive who make it up on the main stage because they don't get up there without being good, but it is interesting which ones really grab you as an individual and speak to your heart personally.
By the time the show had concluded and the mayhem and cheering had died down, it was time to jump into the fray for a spot to climb the staircase to leave LP Field without leaving carnage in our wake. For the record, some people have ZERO manners. I know because some of them were shoving other people in order to "get out first".
Really? 71,000 people cramming into the various staircases and you can't manage to be patient for a few seconds and be polite enough to wait your turn?
Apparently NOT. Some people's children!!
There were so many of us all pressing forward in rush to leave the stadium that the people with that "I've got to be first" mentality truly scared me. I was afraid that smaller folks, children and/or old people were about to be squashed. I just tried to be kind and used the manners Momma taught me and guess what? I managed to get out just fine without being rude to anyone in the process.
I might not have been first in line, but I didn't have to climb my way out stepping on the corpses of those whom I trampled for that dubious honor. Saying this all doesn't make me some kind of a patron saint of leaving a stadium, but the idea of being so impatient just to hurry up and waiting to leave the parking area is just dumb to me.
The only concern I had in the pressing throng was to make sure that as we exited, I kept an eye out for Beth and/or Pete so I'd not have to hitch-hike back to the hotel on the strength of my drop dead sexy looks.
Yeah, I know, I'm laughing too.
If I had to draw in a ride based on looks, I'd be truly afraid to get in the car because the driver would be Ray Charles blind.
I'm thinking that might end poorly for us both.
I'm also guessing that I'd do better with my sense of humor and conversation skills when it came down to snagging a ride.
Thankfully, since we all made it back to Pete's car in seconds of each other, I didn't have to rely on either looks or skill, all was good. We managed to return to the hotel safely and get settled down and ready for bed sometime after 1:30 a.m. or so...
I quit counting or looking at the clock. Saturday morning had sneakily arrived while we had still been reveling in Friday night.
SATURDAY
A full day of Three Musketeers Fest fun! We got up and going and out in time to see Kip Moore at the Chevrolet Riverfront Stage. He is the handsome eye candy that recorded "Somethin' 'bout a Truck".
I LOVE that song!! Kip sang other cuts from his brand new album and a few songs he had co-written for other people as well. It was a good show! I think he will continue to make his mark in the country music world over the next few years.
Lonestar was up next and I was over the moon! I have LOVED Lonestar since they first released the song "Amazed" to the radio. They also sang "What About Now". That is such a feel good song! The harmonies they squeeze into their music are great, too! I hope they get a new record out soon.
As they worked their way through their set, Lonestar also sang "My Front Porch Looking In". That is such a sweet song and even though my own little carrot top is a grown man, I think about his impish grin and red hair every time I hear that song!
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| Lonestar |
When Lonestar was done, the stage was reset for Casey James. He, too, had been on American Idol and finished third on his season of the show. He sang his first single "Let's Don't Call it A Night" and really is a guitar mechanic. Casey had a stable of guitars variously tuned in a row on the stage. I think Beth got a picture of them for Sam to drool upon. They were all really great instruments.
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| Mr. Casey James |
When Casey was done with his set, we got up and went to take in the various booths and activities in The Boot and surrounding environs. I filled out contest forms for various things to include trips, concert tickets, vacation packages, guitars and all kinds of prize packages.
Would be cool to win any or all of them. Hey, isn't that the point... enter, hope and be thankful if you win and just brush it off and rejoice for someone else who wins if you don't get picked?
I went back to the little Emerald Beach fishing area and won a silicon bracelet on the very first try of a sidearm sling into the silver bucket. Woo hoo to me!
There was also a booth from Diamond Archery that had various bows and hunting equipment on display. I got a few wristbands from them and admired the pink camo bow they had on their front table. Katie would have liked it.
Cracker Barrel was also in attendance hosting a contest to win Grand Ol' Opry tickets for the November Concert of Josh Turner which would be cool to win! The people from Sirius Radio had a booth that Beth and Pete visited to get an update for their equipment since their princess apparently ATE one of their receivers. Hmm. If you put your ear to her belly, can you tune into the ballgames when football season starts? Just wondering...
There were booths for various phone companies, gaming companies, car companies and assorted booths for car-related items and just a smorgasbord of all kinds of people and entities trying to garner your business through their booths and open businesses lining the streets and sidewalks at the Fest.
We ate lunch at this nice restaurant with a covered patio. It was called Big River Grill and they were packed to the gills with Fest revelers. We had this little wait-for-your-table electronic buzzing thingy that some girl abandoned over to us because she didn't feel like waiting for her late friends.
Sweet! Cut down on OUR wait time, I'm sure. When we got in and previewed the menu, I ordered a classic Cobb salad. Haven't had one in a while and it's nice to eat some good salad once in a while anyway. They had jalapeno chipotle ranch dressing. Holy Hannah, was that ever good! Wish I could find that flavor dressing by the bottle! Beth and Pete both had variously prepared burgers which also looked really good, despite them both having to scrape off 47 pounds of mayonnaise from the buns even though they asked for NO mayo.
Sweet! Cut down on OUR wait time, I'm sure. When we got in and previewed the menu, I ordered a classic Cobb salad. Haven't had one in a while and it's nice to eat some good salad once in a while anyway. They had jalapeno chipotle ranch dressing. Holy Hannah, was that ever good! Wish I could find that flavor dressing by the bottle! Beth and Pete both had variously prepared burgers which also looked really good, despite them both having to scrape off 47 pounds of mayonnaise from the buns even though they asked for NO mayo.
After lunch, we gathered up and kept walking everywhere through the events. We watched the Ultimate Air Dogs in preliminary competition. They were awesome to watch. The handlers throw a toy over the pool and the dogs leap from a concourse runway and attempt to catch for distance and then they swim back after retrieving the toy.
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| Kinda looks like he is water skiing with an invisible boat... |
While in the area of the water dogs, Beth and I took on Shania Twain in a completely horrible karaoke version of
"Man! I Feel Like a Woman" in her booth back in The Buckle. We came in late, mumbled through the lyrics until the sound man took pity on us and showed us where we were so we could start doing something to the music besides giggling and then we completely killed it. . . and not in a good way. We should have retitled our version "Woman, I sing like a man!" Pitiful. And oh so wrong.
The only
people who could have possibly thought it was good were all tone deaf
and dead. We laughed ourselves silly it was so bad. Normally, Beth is a
soprano and I'm an alto. However, after screaming all night at LP field, we
sounded very much like Budweiser frogs croaking our way very UN-lyrically through
Shania's song. It was nothing short of murder.
I felt like right then and there that I needed to send her an apology letter for
murdering and mangling her wonderful song that way and asking her for her forgiveness. I kinda still feel that way, but she is likely never to see it and I can't imagine anyone wanting to use it for publicity for Shania. It sure wouldn't sell any records.
When we got out of the booth, the lady who had us sign press releases for our "performance" kindly said "you did well!". I looked her dead in the eye and said, "How much do they pay you to lie, sweetie?" and laughed.
We KNEW it stunk up the joint, but we had fun anyway and isn't that the whole point of karaoke - having fun? It's not like one in a million people would be "discovered" from singing karaoke at any time, and I sure wasn't going to be made famous in Nashville on a good day even without sounding like a frog. Ribbet, ribbet, ribbet... I think Kermit would have been ashamed of that performance!
We walked across the street to an area where Bic was giving out razors and coupons. There was a band from Cuba playing and singing. I could make out a few words of their Spanish flavor but the music needed no translation. Beth started dancing a few steps to the music and Pete said her Mexican was coming out in her. I just laughed... that kind of Latin beat brings out all kinds of happy moods for me regardless of the fact that I'm more Anglo than anything else.
We walked across the street to an area where Bic was giving out razors and coupons. There was a band from Cuba playing and singing. I could make out a few words of their Spanish flavor but the music needed no translation. Beth started dancing a few steps to the music and Pete said her Mexican was coming out in her. I just laughed... that kind of Latin beat brings out all kinds of happy moods for me regardless of the fact that I'm more Anglo than anything else.
The latest exhibit at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum beckoned to us. It was all about the Bakersfield, California contribution to country music. Buck Owens, among others, was a star with the signature sound from that part of the nation. The people in Bakersfield were actually responsible for the formation of what later became the Country Music Association. Had they not realized the need of combining into a legitimate associate that melded the West Coast performers to those in Nashville, we could well have been home knitting snoods as there wouldn't have been any CMA Fest to attend.
After a brief rest break at the hotel, we got ready for the evening concerts at LP Field. It was going to be some exciting lineup! Julie Roberts, some chick I'd never heard of, sang the National Anthem to open up our evening of musical enjoyment. Her voice was nice and actually in my range, which is hard to come by in music. Most gals are high roofed sopranos and leave us altos in the dust with their expansive range of notes. Not Julie. She was right there in my range. Nice.
Wouldn't have mattered though on the singers range or skill when it comes to the Anthem. We all sang along, hand over our heart with the Star Spangled Banner every night no matter what key it was in or who was singing it. I figured patriotism mattered far more than what notes we sang anyway. I'm proud to be an American even if I'm singing off pitch. So there!
Our hostess for the evening was none other than Melissa Peterman! She is hilarious good fun. After being the comedic foil 'Barbra Jean' for Reba McEntire's TV show "Reba" for years, it was great to see her brand of comedy again. She is both a physical comedienne and a regular stand-up comedienne delivering zingers and strait one-liners with panache. She also rolls with the punches pretty well when the crowd gets involved.
Melissa entertained us with her comedy while the stage crew worked to prepare for the The crowd was brought to its collective feet when she announced that Kenny Rogers was opening up the Fest for Saturday evening's concerts. I love Kenny Rogers!
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| Mr. Kenny Rogers |
His singing kept Rick on my mind through the set since a lot of Kenny's music surrounds our dating years and early married life. Kinda a nice reminder about all those good times dating and then being newlyweds back in the day.
In his four song set, Kenny sang "Lady" and "The Gambler" and joked about his age and how honored he was to be included in the festivities at the Fest.
I was personally delighted to see just how well he captivated the crowd and sang to us. Incredible!
Hunter Hayes came on next and sang a few songs including his hit "Storm Warning", which I really like. He has a really good voice and is a cutie pie... you could just eat him up with a spoon. Hunter has a mischievous grin and a really great stage presence for someone so young.
Then, after his portion of the program came to a conclusion, Love and Theft came to the center circle stage for an acoustic performance. It was okay but not all that and a bag of chips. I don't care for their sound much.
Little Big Town took the stage after the reset and did a great job! I like them anyhow and they sang really well. They opened with "Boondocks" and sang through "Little White Church" and their new single "Pontoon". It was fun to watch them moving around all over the place to sing their songs and the interaction between them all. The two gals are both beautiful and the two guys are cutie pies for sure. They also look like trouble. Hee hee!
Eric Church came up next. He wears his sunglasses all the time and makes no secret about drinking during his set. That red solo cup ain't filled with water, kids. Reminded me of watching the folks at a rock concert years ago tip back their bottles of JD and then keep rockin' along.
Eric sang his newest song "Drink in My Hand" which had everyone up singing and dancing along. Eric also sang "Smoke a Little Smoke" and got an equally loud response from the roughly 71,000 people who were enjoying the Saturday night concerts.
"Springsteen" got me scrolling back through my younger days and I really enjoyed hearing Eric belt it out. In an interview he once gave about the song's inspiration, Eric once said that it was about "a love affair that takes place in an amphitheater between two people. It
didn’t happen with Springsteen, ironically, it happened with another
artist.”
It's okay by me. We all have some musical artist or artists with whom we connect on some personal emotional level. That's why country music is so real to our lives and circumstances as individuals.
Faith Hill took to the stage next. That gal has a set of pipes on her for sure and she is SO pretty! She can really take it up a notch or two in her program. I enjoyed hearing her sing on the radio, but watching the emotion she pours into her performance was just fun. Beth liked her haircut and even took pains to take some really clear photographs of how it looked so she can get her long locks fashioned in the same way.
Can't say much about that since I used to take pictures of Olivia Newton-John's various cuts and styles to the salon for my hair styles. Whatever cranks your tractor, I say.
Faith took on her signature song "Mississippi Girl" and had the crowd rockin' along with her! She just seems like the kind of gal you could sit around on the porch and drink homemade lemonade and talk to without it seeming weird.
She also sang "Breathe", which is another of my favorites. The silky smooth quality of Faith's voice is so pretty and a pleasure to hear.
Kip Moore came to the stage and did a reprise of his riverside show for the LP Field crowd.
The closer for Saturday evening was Luke Bryan's star turn before the Fest faithful. I just gotta say that man is sure easy on the eyes and boy does he have some seriously swivel hips. (WOO! Did somebody turn up the thermostat in here? HOT! HOT!! HOT!!!) He has moves that would make Elvis' censors eyes pop right out of their skulls and catch on fire. Mmm hmm.
Luke got the crowd up on their feet singing and dancing to his rapid fire combination of songs that featured "Rain Is A Good Thing", "Country Girl (Shake It For Me)", "I Don't Want This Night to End" and his new song "Drunk on You".
Luke also had a hilarious moment where this seriously nerdy white boy was brought up on stage for Luke to give him some lessons to help him score after the concert was over while the pub crawling was going on. That kid danced worse than I've ever seen!! Holy cow! Luke was trying to show him some moves (for which we females were ALL grateful! Holy Cow!) and this poor geeky kid danced like Steve Urkel. Pitiful.
Since that was the last song of the night, we thought we were all going home but it turned out that for whatever reason, the folks from ABC TV weren't pleased with the footage they got and asked us to "do it all over".
Since that was the last song of the night, we thought we were all going home but it turned out that for whatever reason, the folks from ABC TV weren't pleased with the footage they got and asked us to "do it all over".
Luke was more than willing to oblige and asked us all to stay while explaining the circumstances, we did it over, minus hauling the kid back out. It was better than the first time through, even though watching the kid do his thing was hilariously good country fun.
Man alive!! I LOVE COUNTRY MUSIC!! Everyone was singing, dancing, trying to be like Luke and I was seriously hoping that no one was missing out on the fun. It was just so great to even consider being left behind!
SUNDAY
On Sunday, we got out to The Buckel area to see what was shaking and Pete wanted to test drive the various Chevy products available for the riding. We rode in a 1500 pickup and a Camero convertible. Beth and Pete looked at a couple of other cars and since I needed to find a bathroom, I begged off the next ride or two while I answered the call of the wild.
One very funny thing that happened while Beth and Pete were test driving the Chevy Volt. As I was wandering around drooling on the trucks under the tent and thinking about how cool it would be to buy one, I walked around to the AAA Auto Club tent. They were set up --- no kidding --- right next to the Budweiser Beer tent. DO WHAT???
Yep. Talk about a Twilight Zone moment, kids!
The Bud dude is hollering "Get your Bud Beads!" and handing out necklaces and drink cozies with their Bud blue color and logo plastered all over them to the over 21 crowd, most of whom simply gave them to their kids anyway.
In hearing distance and right in sync with the patter from the Bud hawker, the AAA Auto Club gal is hollering out "Don't Drink and Drive!" and handing out logo scarves to the passers by from their booth. You gotta love it! I grabbed one of the scarves to bring "clothes" back for Gypsy. They will look pretty fetching on her since the scarf is red with white logos.
I also asked for a couple of them for Beth and Pete since they were still occupied testing cars and they can use them to clean their golf clubs off while teeing off at Canebrake. Or, they can alternatively use them to make a tiny, little hammock for Alexis since she is such a restful, relaxing dog.
While we continued our pursuit of fun before the evening concerts, I picked up a handful of guitar picks from the various vendors, some of whom were literally just throwing them on the ground. I go through them, break them and lose them from time to time, so no free picks will go to waste in my guitar case.
A lot of the vendors were clearing out Sunday afternoon since it was the last official Fest Day and the crowds were already thinning down in The Boot. Most people were saving themselves for the closing concerts at LP Field. We didn't do much but look at the Chevy display at the Riverfront as none of the performers on their stage were that exciting to us and the only one that was even remotely appealing was scheduled too close Fest starting time and we didn't want to miss that!
We all got cowboy boots in a 3 for 1 deal on Broadway. They truly had something for everyone in that store! We lugged boot bags all over the place and managed to lose Pete for a short time in the process of crossing the street by one of the handy, always to be missed shuttle buses. For a while, we thought Pete got on one to spite us and we just went inside a store where Beth got a new plum colored shirt and I got a nice hat at another vendor while we waited out a brief rain shower.
Whispering Bill Anderson opened up the night with a truly funny song about wherever his ex was he wanted her to stay there. He must be, as Kari says, about 115 years old, but he was just great!
After the set change, Scotty McCreery came on and sang his signature piece, "I Love You This Big". He then sang "The Trouble With Girls" and then wound up his set with the classic by Travis Tritt "T-R-O-U-B-L-E".
Dierks Bentley performed "Down the Road I Go", "What Was I Thinkin'" and "Am I The Only One". He was a lot of fun to hear and see.
Getting to see Rascal Flatts live was a truly incredible thing! I have enjoyed their music for some time and watching Gary, Jay and Joe Don trade off the leads so smoothly was a real pleasure. Gary was having trouble with his mike so Joe Don took the lead vocal while Gary sorted out having a new mike and mike pack. He jumped back into the song a bit later and let everyone know what was going on with a quick joke about how much better things sounded with a working microphone.
They sang "Banjo", which is their latest release, along with "Life is a Highway" which was made famous to kids under 10 everywhere because of the Pixar movie "CARS". Then they sang "What Hurts the Most" and "Come Wake Me Up". It was a really good performance and just a pleasure to listen to them and watch Rascal Flatts work.
Striding casually to the stage next was Alan Jackson. The crowd went hog wild when he came out. Alan sang but I was so blatantly star struck that even though I am sure I sang along with him, I can't recall a thing! I know that makes me sound incredibly stupid, but there you have it. Good thing I wasn't called upon to testify what I heard to save my life! Pull the trigger, boys, because I was immersed in the moment and all I know is ALAN JACKSON was spitting distance from me.
Steel Magnolia sang a few songs on the circle in the round in an acoustic set. They were just okay. I don't remember what they sang and it wasn't because they were bad, it just wasn't my cup of tea. By this time, Beth needed to hike to the restroom, so she handed me her camera in case she didn't get back in time to take pictures when Martina got going.
I stood up and took a few pictures of the Steel Magnolia duet then waited for the big show on center stage. They covered a couple of their hits in acoustic format then the last act of the evening was introduced
Martina McBride was introduced to a vamp of her music and she came out to just grab hold on my heart!
I absolutely just LOVE her voice and the expressive and beautiful emotions she sings through her hits. She sang "I'm Gonna Love You Through It" and that really made me think about Lanette (my sister in law) for whom this is pretty up close and personal.
Martina also sang "Independence Day", which is another ode to a strong woman who was just not going to put up with being abused anymore. In the same vein, she also sang "A Broken Wing".
Then, Martina covered "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics. It was IMPRESSIVE! I wandered around and took some photographs of Martina in action. Since I was not wearing my glasses, I'm just hoping they are in focus.
I'll have to ask Beth about that. They may be so blurry and out of focus they may not be of Martina McBride singing into her microphone at all, but rather, they may well be pictures of some chick in the wings eating a cheese steak sandwich.
I absolutely just LOVE her voice and the expressive and beautiful emotions she sings through her hits. She sang "I'm Gonna Love You Through It" and that really made me think about Lanette (my sister in law) for whom this is pretty up close and personal.
Martina also sang "Independence Day", which is another ode to a strong woman who was just not going to put up with being abused anymore. In the same vein, she also sang "A Broken Wing".
Then, Martina covered "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics. It was IMPRESSIVE! I wandered around and took some photographs of Martina in action. Since I was not wearing my glasses, I'm just hoping they are in focus.
I'll have to ask Beth about that. They may be so blurry and out of focus they may not be of Martina McBride singing into her microphone at all, but rather, they may well be pictures of some chick in the wings eating a cheese steak sandwich.
It was already early Monday morning by the time the last notes of Martina McBride had echoed into a wonderful memory, so by the time we returned to the hotel, there was no sleep to be had. Too excited and too slap-happy giddy to rest, Beth and I were in the living room goofing around and talking. Pete was giving us up as a lost cause and had retired to their bedroom.
For whatever reason, the line of empty bottles on the desk were calling to me. 'Shelley! Shelley! Go ahead and take a swag at us! You can't hit us!'
If there is on thing I cannot tolerate, it is being mocked by empty bottles.
So, taking their challenge literally, I killed off the last of my water, screwed on the lid of the now empty bottle and let if fly, taking out the row of bottles lining the desk. They stopped mocking me when they hit the floor with extreme prejudice.
Then and there, the best sleep deprived event ever was born.
Seeing a row of like assembled and mocking drink bottles on the stove across the room, I likewise took a few tosses at them with an empty bottle turned grenade, then gathered up the now quiet empties from the stove in order to make a bowling alley on the floor in front of the couch.
I got Beth (who was too busy laughing to aim and throw properly) to come have her turn at taking down the various water and Gatorade bottles assemble in the traditional V for bowling.
You know something? She can't hit the broad side of a barn. Pitiful. You'd think a woman of her obvious education could have done better. It's not like this is rocket science! (sorry Beth, but I was COMPELLED to put that in here!)
Reloading, Beth moved a bit closer for another chance at Gatorade bottle glory. Alas, said glory eluded her, but fortunately, I am compassionate and kind... or not. I asked her if I needed to put up the bumpers and a backstop for her so she could hit the bottles... on the rebound if needed.
Following some snarky, unmentionable remark, Beth scootched up closer until her feet were even with the first bottle. What a dirty bit of cheating!! This isn't the toddler line, lady!! Have some respect for the game! Then the cheater had some actual success in knocking the bottles over. Not all of them, but some of them.
So, again because I am kind, or an unreasonable facsimile of same, I stacked up about 4 bottles in a carefully placed column and blew them over with a breath for her. Laughing evilly, I then re-stacked them for her to try and she was able to knock them all down between fits of giggles.
Pete didn't seem to get it, or care, as I think he had gone in and died in the bed in the other room.
Really, reading this back after I have typed it, it doesn't seem all that funny, but trust me, when you are sleep deprived, high on summertime and country music and just enjoying some seriously good times with some truly good company, it is a hilarious game. Honestly! I highly recommend it the next time you are about 3 days short on sleep and hanging out with your best friend.
Also, as a side note guaranteed to cause bruising, try it with FULL bottles and see what happens. On second thought, don't.
We didn't manage to get much sleep on Sunday night/Monday morning. But whatever amount it was didn't matter because we still had to get up and get going to head home anyway. The grownups had work and school and I needed to get home to Jared so Rick wouldn't be missing another day at work. I also had taken pains to have Kari come over for a backup just in case we were not home in time.
Good thing I did, too.
When I woke up, it was already obvious that I had completely missed the alarm because Beth had showered and was eating breakfast.
The clock said 5:21!
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!
I HATE MISSING THE ALARM!!! Grrrrr!
Jacking my aching body up from the couch cushions on the floor, I just dressed. The tilted couch had received enough tribute from my spine and the floor sounded much more comfortable than it did by Sunday into Monday.
After missing the alarm snoring into the cushions on the floor, there wasn't enough time for me to "pretty up" since we needed to pack George and hit the road. Fortunately, I had already packed my luggage up so it was only a matter of gathering up the loot acquired on the trip. Funny, I don't remember needing a pack mule to carry in my stuff when we got here...
The addition of new boots, new hat and bags and bags and bags of all kinds of swag from vendors meant new bags to pack and carry along with luggage and purse. Then there was the remaining food and drinks that needed to be packed to go into the cold bag for the ride home, plus the bag of recycle stuff from all the bottles of water and G2 we had consumed.
Where is Juan Valdez and his little burro when we need them? "Here burro, burro, burro, burro! Come here!"
DANG IT!!
Well, never mind. We substituted ourselves for the burro and lugged all of our stuff down the hall and into the elevator and down to the sidewalk. Beth ran down the block to get George from the parking deck. She wound up calling Pete to find out where the heck George was parked.
While waiting there, I was propositioned by a scanty toothed man who apparently decided I was a streetwalker. Nice. I realize I didn't have time to attire myself in something besides jeans and a t-shirt but REALLY???? A streetwalker???
He wouldn't have been anyone I'd have taken on had I truly been a hooker. No amount of money would have made that worth it even if it meant a pimp beating later on.
He was just plain nasty. I'm talking about the kind of nasty that goes beyond regular nasty of a man who picks up prostitutes, but that truly filthy, stinking nasty... the scent that lingers long after the man has gone... the kind where mere soap and water will never be enough to remove the stench. That is just world-class gross. Just gross to the 15th degree.
He was just plain nasty. I'm talking about the kind of nasty that goes beyond regular nasty of a man who picks up prostitutes, but that truly filthy, stinking nasty... the scent that lingers long after the man has gone... the kind where mere soap and water will never be enough to remove the stench. That is just world-class gross. Just gross to the 15th degree.
I was also asked by several taxi cab drivers if I needed a ride. Of course, I told them "no" but it was obvious that they were all out and about early to get the 'back to the airport crowd" that would be departing from hotels all over the area now that the Fest had closed the curtains on the stage of another successful year. Roughly 71,000 people attended the LP Field Concerts. That number probably didn't include the rotational bodies that filled the seats on various nights since some people only got tickets for the one or two people they wanted to see on any given night.
Those cabbies were looking to make some loot on the departing guest for the fests. I just wasn't one of them from whom they could expect a nickle.
Beth and George showed up, we stuffed things into the truck and headed down the road toward Athens.
All in all, this Fest experience has been more than I can ever truly totally relate -- even including the fact that this particular blog post is over long.
And, I can't wait to go back. Just not this week. I need a nap.
Those cabbies were looking to make some loot on the departing guest for the fests. I just wasn't one of them from whom they could expect a nickle.
Beth and George showed up, we stuffed things into the truck and headed down the road toward Athens.
All in all, this Fest experience has been more than I can ever truly totally relate -- even including the fact that this particular blog post is over long.
And, I can't wait to go back. Just not this week. I need a nap.
