If you're looking for questions to this week's Weds. Hodgepodge you'll find them here.
Saturday afternoon we heard us some country music. Yes I do realize that statement is grammatically incorrect but somehow it just feels right. We had tickets to see Kenny Chesney along with the Zac Brown Band and Billy Currington and Uncle Kracker. I'm not a huge Uncle Kracker fan so we spent his time slot tailgating with friends in the Giants stadium parking lot. We munched on appetizers and discussed, among other things, the idea that we might possibly be sitting atop Jimmy Hoffa. The rumor mill says he was buried under the old stadium which is now the parking lot. How's that for a little slice of trivia on this rainy Tuesday morning?
Hubs and I have a few things in common with Kenny, namely the fact that the three of us attended the same university. He's a little bit younger than we are but still, we claim him as a hometown boy. Kenny got his start playing for tips on Tues and Thurs nights at an out of the way Mexican restaurant on the river near collegetown. Its fun to be sitting in Giants Stadium (yeah yeah I know-its technically The New Meadowlands Stadium) and to hear a shout out to your little ole Alma Mater. More than a shout out actually. He references East Tennessee often in his speech and music. Its a place that gets deep into your heart and soul.
The country, the river, the mountains, the people. Trips to the Carolina shore and football games in small high school bleachers or the third largest college stadium in the country. He sings about standing on the Lambda Chi porch and we've stood on that Lambda Chi porch. He sings about the river and we know that river. He inserts the familiar into his music and listening takes us back to hubs hometown, to the place we met, to the roads we used to travel and to the mountains and countryside we will always love. His music is painted with the brush of East Tennessee and when we listen we are there.
Now, onto some observations about the evening-
The skies were threatening but you are not permitted to bring umbrellas into the stadium. I am not sure if its because you'll block your neighbors view or there is the concern that you might poke annoying and unruly fans with said umbrella. Or there could be the fear that you'll be one of the annoying unruly fans and they don't want you 'armed'. It didn't start raining until later in the evening and we were in the company box so not a problem for us. I believe I've stated here before that this is my preferred method of viewing all concerts and sporting events.
Speaking of weapons, security also confiscates water bottles upon entry. Apparently they can be used as weapons too but secretly I think they just want you to buy their water. I had a conversation with a girl in the rest room about the fact that they did not confiscate her hair spray. She and I agreed we could do a lot more damage with hairspray than a water bottle.
Where did all these cowboy boots come from? I spent most of my growing up years in this state, lived here for another five years early in our marriage, and have been back for two years this time round. I never see people in the Garden State walking around in Western Wear but the concert was full of cowboy hats and boots.
I love a fiddle.
Zac Brown has one of the most beautiful clear voices out there today. He and his band sang America the Beautiful and knocked it out of the park. Some Navy folks in uniform were in the audience and the camera zoomed in on them and the crowd went crazy.
My favorite Zac Brown song is Free because it makes me feel happy and sad all at the same time. Lots of country music songs make me feel this way.
How fun would this be?
Kenny Chesney came into the stadium on some sort of suspended seat with a harness and sang his way across the crowd and onto the stage.
My husband's whistle is completely obnoxious. Oh my aching ears.
We were in the company box along with about 15 other people. See the gentleman on the left-
He is the out of town guest of someone else in the box. Guess where he's from? He lives in the very same teeny tiny village we lived in across the pond. He knew our neighborhood and the street we lived on and we talked about our favorite Indian restaurant and the changes in the village since we left and oh my goodness, it was all just too much.
At the end of the show KC hugged everyone in the band and the Jets coach and a Yankee player who were part of the crowd.
I explained to one of the girls with us that this is how we know KC is a Tennessee boy. He's a hugger.
This post would not be complete without a little music. Here's one of our favorites...the words are poetry. Tennessee poetry.
