I’ve been to some rock concerts in my time.
There was the time I found it hard to see the stage at the old Kiel Auditorium in St. Louis during a Bachman Turner Overdrive concert because of the blue funk of smoke that was billowing up from the crowd. The smell of burnt rope clung to my clothes and prompted “questions” from my dear mother the next morning. I’ve seen some pretty rowdy folk at the Mississippi River Festival (MRF) back in the day before it became a radio control model airplane park on the campus of SIU-Edwardsville.
But I didn’t know rowdy…….I saw rowdy this weekend in San Antonio and there wasn’t some burnt out rocker on the stage. I was surrounded by middle-aged women wanting to worship sitcom star and country singer Reba McEntire…and willing to toss their linen onto the stage for 60-year-old Country Music King George Strait. Back in the day they would have thrown their hotel keys on the Alamodome stage…..but now…with magnetic cards….it is impossible for Old George to know what room they were trying to seduce to visit.
Two brief stories illustrate my point.
I won’t even tell you about the friend who smuggled a 300m zoom lense in her bra so she could get some shots of George’s nasal hair and Reba’s cellulite.
Story one---Every one of the menopause mavens decided to go to the bathroom during Reba’s set, so they could be ready for George. That set off a crush at the ladies’ john. Soon the line snaked out of the lobby and onto the floor of the Alamodome. So, a few of the younger babes decided to take matters into their own hands. Susan B. Anthony would have been proud. They decided it was unfair for men to have such a short line…..so they marched into the men’s privy and demanded seat time. The men revolted and barricaded the stalls. Chivalry is indeed dead. Do you think that stopped the tube-topped, boot stompin’ and beer drinking fairer sex? Nope. They just used the urinal.
Howse that for rowdy?
Story two---Reba wraps up her set. The crowd becomes electric as King George is introduced by a Chevy dealer from San Anton. Chevy is a solid old brand….which is why it is a good fit for George. The King wasn’t even two songs into his set when a young woman in front of me jumps up onto her seat to see him better. That doesn’t please the fifty-something woman behind her…and next to us. Next thing you know….that Coors Light that was supposed to be liquid refreshment is now a wet weapon dousing the chair dancer. Oh my, that’s when the fun started.
Can you say Cat Fight? Uh huh, I knew you could. Until police arrived the fists flew. It erupted during George’s song “Write This Down.” It ruined the song for me….but it did inspire this blog. I decided to “Write this down.”
Going to a country concert anytime soon?
Don’t worry about illicit drugs.
Worry that some woman named Lacy will push in front of you at the urinal…and oh...duck when you hear the command, “Sit down b%$#.” And finally don’t get between the menopausal woman and George’s cowboy hat when he decides to launch into 51,000 fans.
Remember this advice.
Do yourself a favor….go to see Ozzy or the Stones…..they are too tired to be rowdy anymore.
It is the country music fan that will take you out. In the immortal words of David Allan Coe…who once was unapologetic when arriving two hours late to a concert near Fairfield….”You can’t shake hands with a fist.”
No….but a fist and a full cup of Coors Light will get you a clear view of the stage.
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