Last Friday, my husband and I along with our two sons attended a John Mayer concert in Dallas. The last concert we’d been to was 1990 BC when we saw Hall and Oates in Huntsville, Alabama. After having children, our concerts were limited to those presented by children during holidays or at the end of the school year. No one held up lighters and you almost never smelled marijuana, although having someone vomit on you was a distinct possibility. But it wouldn’t be from someone who’d consumed too much beer—rather a baby with a sour stomach.
Now our boys are teenagers and big fans of music we also like by artists such as John Mayer, Jack Johnson, Jason Mraz and others. When I saw that John Mayer was coming to town, I bought tickets the day they went on sale. The concert became a summer highlight we looked forward to for weeks.
The outdoor venue was sold out and the temperature hovered around 100 degrees when the concert began. Colbie Callet warmed up the crowd and then out came John sans shirt. Thank you, Texas heatwave! Even though we didn’t have front row seats, I could appreciate the man’s dedication to his workout routine. For two hours, we moved and grooved to his extremely entertaining set. (Click on his name above to open the link to his website, then click on the fourth "official photo.")
The only dark cloud was the pair of 20-somethings standing behind me who talked incessantly. I turned and glared, hoping the girls would get the hint, but they didn’t. Who pays $60 for a seat at a concert and then doesn’t listen to the music? I tolerated it through the first song or two and then I couldn’t take it. I turned around and said, very nicely through my clenched teeth, “Would you please stop talking?” One of them said to me, “Sorr-rry!” not a bit sorry. I have kids. I know sarcasm. So I turned back around to them and said, “I’m trying to hear the concert and all I hear is you. Talking!” As I turned back to face the stage, I heard a backup comment from her boyfriend. “You are talking too much,” he said. Thankfully, they stopped. I kept waiting for her to pour her beer down my back, but at $6 a cup, she thought better of it.
So, I made two enemies whom I’ll never see again, but at least they quit talking and we were able to enjoy the concert. We’ll see what excitement awaits us at the Jason Mraz concert in October. Wonder if he’ll wear a shirt…