I have this list of scenarios in my head that I hope to one day accomplish. They're all slightly silly and mostly completely attainable. One that's been with me for awhile now has been the spontaneous road trip. It's so simple. I wanted to find Something To Do that was a reasonable distance away and make the decision to go. I've had plenty of opportunities but something's always gotten in the way. Lack of funds. Lack of accomplice. Lack of vehicle. Too much going on. Obligations the next day. You know, life. That's why spontaneity is so fun and so novel and so wonderfully whimsical - it laughs in the face of everyday normal life.
So, Mom and I had gone to Tulsa. We've already covered that. While at that show, he mentioned his birthday wasn't really until the next day, but thank you and all that. We talked a bit about how nice it'd be to go to that show. Haha. Yeah, okay. It was discussed but never with any gravity.
I'm awoken the next morning at 9am. "How stupid are we?"
That's a great question. I mean, we'd already gone to two shows. In a week. For the same person. Same tour. Same opening acts, even. Then all the "buts" rolled in. But it's his birthday. But it's a new state. But it's a new city. But it's a new venue. But it's something I've always wanted to do. But we have a really comfortable van we didn't expect to have. But I can actually afford to go AND still eat next week. But it's a Saturday night, so I won't even have to call in to work. (For the record, I didn't call in Friday night - I asked off nearly two months ago.)
I did it. I stopped myself from talking myself out of it, got up, took a shower, threw on my cleanest dirty jeans and a clean shirt and dragged my barely conscious self out of the house.
The drive was not typical for me. I'm accustomed to hitting an interstate and going and going. This was all Texas Farm Roads and random highways. It was a pretty drive, though.
Well, what you could see through the rain. It rained pretty much the whole way. Which equaled insane fog on the way back. Yay! No.
My side of the world. Got my All Stars and my Red Heart. Life was good! Crochet time, jamming to some Jim Croce, heading to a Keith Urban show, riding in the passenger seat on a Saturday night while I anticipated a brand new setting to explore.
One of those beautiful "which way do we go?" moments.
If I was a better photographer, you would see "City Of Shreveport" instead of leaves.
Our view of the skyline. We had to take a fairly immediate curve, so I didn't get a great shot.
Let me take a minute and tell you of a striking difference between my mother and I. I am an experience person for the most part. I like to try new things, explore new places. I will wander off in a heartbeat if I don't have someone watching me. My mother is a destination person. She sets a goal and that's what she wants. How does that relate to this story?
By the time we reached the venue, I was already happy. I know that "sold out" is very unlikely, so I'm good. I'm in a new state, new town, at a new venue. I'm somewhere new! My mother is still very focused on her ticket. Once we climb the mountain of stairs, the little ticket lady slashes her dreams. No close row tickets. They did, however, have tickets for the last row on the floor. We know from past experience that the last row is a great place to be for a few songs. Awesome. We take them.
We headed back into town, grabbed some food, and came back to the venue. Since we very rarely do, we decided to spend some time hanging out in the area in front of the building. You know the scene - local band, line of concertgoers waiting for the doors to open, radio stations, people watchers. We found a ledge and drank our tea while the people went about their business. Mom heads to the radio station truck and signs up for a drawing. "I guess this means I should sign up, too?" I asked. "Might as well. It gives me another chance," she answered. I figured I can't win if I don't enter, so I wrote down my name and my phone number and went back to the ledge.
See that red truck? That's where we signed up.
Come time for the drawing, Mom goes on over. You can see our shadows on the pavement. I didn't go anywhere. I told her to wave me over if I won. She laughed and told me to make sure to grab our stuff when we won. Okay, Mom. Sure.
Next thing I know, my mom is trying to get my attention. I thought she was joking until I got Mom Faced with that Get Over Here Right Now finger pointing at the ground. I left my phone. I left my tea. I left Mom's pop. I left my camera. My big ol' self sprinted over that exact span of pavement pictured, ready to be super annoyed with my mom over this little prank.
"You won," she hissed at me.
"Shut up."
"No, you won. And you left our stuff."
Radio guy smiles at me and asks me to spell my last name. Now, I have a very unique last name. I got my nine-lettered last name out in under two seconds.
"Congratulations, sweetheart. If you'll just stand over here while we finish drawing the other winners."
I'm still not convinced my mom hasn't chatted this guy up and gotten him in on an elaborate joke as payback for being cheeky about signing up in the first place. Uh, nope. No, I'd won the radio drawing to go to a meet and greet with Dustin Lynch. Even better, each winner received two passes, so Mom and I could go together.
"I knew when he pulled that paper that I knew that handwriting," she said. You know you spend a lot of time with someone when they can identify your handwriting from three feet away when it's entirely improbable that it would be yours.
The venue was actually much smaller than anticipated. Our very back row seats turned out to not be too bad.
We entered the building and found our seats. Oddly, no one else in our row ever showed up. I don't know if they all found a way to weasel closer or if none of the rest of the row sold. Either way, it was nice to worry about errant elbows.
We watched most of Dustin Lynch's set before venturing out to find our meet and greet place. I was pleasantly surprised with the experience. It was a bit of a "smile, pose, sign" kind of line, but he started each and every encounter by holding out his hand and looking them in the eye. He didn't automatically look for the item to be signed. He didn't just throw an arm around your shoulders. He stuck out his hand, looked me in the eye, said "Hi, I'm Dustin" and waited for me to introduce myself. I don't know if it was how he was raised or how he was trained, but I was impressed.
Little Big Town hasn't gotten much coverage in these things, which is really unfair. They are amazing. They also have amazing sound techs. With four people who are all equally important during most parts of most songs (harmonies and all), they sound really good. No one comes across more prominently than another. The balance is really solid. As for the band itself, they're just fun. At least one of them is always communicating with the audience through facial expressions, winks, little waves, head nods, smiles. They always look to be enjoying themselves. Sometimes artists can look bored, especially when it's not their spotlight moment. They don't do that. Very fun group to watch.
Mom had the camera. She doesn't believe in wasting memory space on Not Keith Urban.
I don't think there's much I can add to what I've already said, but I will repeat that Keith Urban puts on an amazing show. I don't go to show after show hoping that maybe this one will be the one that finally breaks through. I go to show after show because he always rocks it. I just thought of it, but he's one of the few artists who will do country covers. Yeah, he does "Keep On Loving You" at the end of his show, but he also throws in some Blake Shelton and a few bits of whatever strikes him.
Since Mom had the camera most of the time, I was able to just enjoy the show. I also stayed closer to my assigned seat while she sat on the very inside so she had a less angled view of the stage. Of course, her main motivation was to be close to the second stage when he made that journey.
I love when he breaks out the banjo. I don't know what that's about.
Such a sucker for pretty colors.
Lights and silhouettes and no mic stand in the way.
If you squint, you can see the hint of a grin. Plus, acoustic guitar.
I'm running out of captions.
Oh, this one! Love this one, especially this picture.
I had one of these last time, but I am always impressed by how he lets his guests take the attention.
Nothing at all says he has to do that.
A shot with him WITH the band.
This was great. That huge box wobbled and scooted around the stage while he was singing. He lost a few words and missed a few notes trying to watch what the box was doing. Turned out, it was Dustin Lynch fancying up his usual guest spot, but it was fun.
When he finally made the journey to the back stage, Mom and I got separated. She went one way expecting me to follow her. I went the other way where there was less competition. I wound up having only one person in front of me. Since she was busy taking pictures, I didn't have to worry about her hands in my way or anything. It was nice. Side note: someone handed their sign up to the lady in front of me. She held it for about ten seconds and tried to hand it back to me. I was like, nope. I think she wound up just dropping it.
While back here, he did play a bit of "Louisiana Saturday Night" which was perfect for the occasion. It's also just a fun, classic song, so that was cool.
Mom's point of view, with a camera.
My point of view, with my junky phone camera.
My camera isn't great anyway, but it's especially troublesome with objects that move.
I like 'em though. I know the pics don't come close to capturing the awesomeness.
Alright. After this bit, Mom went to her assigned seat and looked like she was done. Well, that just wouldn't do. See, we know that he likes to go into the crowd. We even know the general section he likes to go in and we definitely know which side he chooses.
Disclaimer: I very, very rarely move from my seat. If this is my seat, this is where I belong. However, in Tulsa, I had an entire row in front of me that wasn't taken. I eventually texted Mom and told her to move up with me and she did. Since that was literally the day before this show, this memory was fresh on my mind. Surely, I thought, there had to be empty seats up there somewhere. Also, security here wasn't necessarily lax, but they also didn't act like each inch of the arena was personally theirs and you were offending them in the worst way if you tread upon it.
That said, I told Mom she should move up the aisle (we were sitting on the outside since that's where our ticketed seats were) so she could potentially move in on the hand-grabbing portion of his walk. She agreed - and then told me to go with her. There's only two ways things can go from that point. 1, you hesitate and attract attention by your awkwardness. 2, you go with it and play it off like you're looking for your aisle as you stream toward the stage. Figuring I'd never see any of these audience members again, I went with her.
I still love these shots. Disco ball and pretty lights and pretty scenery. :)
We took it slow. Hopping a few rows at a time. I did my best to stay out of the way, but I also didn't want to lose my mom in this madness. We eventually settled in a row that was entirely empty and rather hovered in the aisle rather than sitting.
The camera started being a punk. But do you see how few heads are in the way now?
We'd stopped right in front of one of the aisles that led up. If you don't concert, not every aisle leads to the floor. I guess it helps with crowd control.
So, this one did. I even saw where they were setting the makeshift stage and we were exactly where we needed to be. He would definitely be walking right in front of us. I'm finding this next part difficult to write because I hate braggy people. I'm not trying to be, but I'm also really excited about it and want to share. Especially since this blog is about documenting things important to me.
Thus. We happened to be right by one of those old timey, big, flat topped trash cans. It was trash can, little bit of floor space, me. He stopped right in front of me to sign someone's ticket. I was close enough to see the highlights in his hair. Oh, my gosh. For nearly five seconds he was RIGHT THERE. Of course, my phone was in my back pocket and Mom had the camera. Technically, I have no proof so you're free to not believe me. But it was another beyond amazing concert moment. Ah! We didn't move an inch, of course, so we could see him on the way back to the stage, too.
The shirt says "Bayou Beast" in honor of being in LSU territory.
Plus, aren't the colors in this one just awesome?
Yes, the camera zooms, but he wasn't very far away at all.
I touched that shirt...
:)
The final bow.
And the drummer even appears to be smiling!
Signing stuff...
It was such an incredible night. The whole day, really, was pure fun. Impromptu road trip. Great seats. Radio drawing winners! My first real foray into seat hopping (I don't like it much, I have to say. Great results, for sure, but not my cup of tea.). A lucky pause. And confetti. Love confetti.
That was my Louisiana Saturday night. Tonight won't be nearly as exciting, but I guess few would be. That's what makes them so special and memorable, right? Thanks for reading and do come back for some crochet bits soon! Enjoy your weekend.
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