Saturday Night Wild

It was going to be a perfect evening.  Our dear friends had called us earlier in the week and invited our family to dinner and a concert under the stars.  Tim McGraw.  Woo Hoo!

After a lovely dinner with lots of laughter and great conversation, we packed eight of us into a seven-seater and made our way to Fiddlers on the Green (an outdoor park and concert venue in town).

We spread out blankets for eight on the big grassy hill looking down to the stage. We made a trip to the concessions, the bathrooms, and the bathrooms again.  Kids and Sprite you know.  The weather was perfect.  A light breeze was blowing and the temperature hovered around 78 degrees.  The threat of storms made a move around us instead of over us.

As the minutes ticked by, the once massive grassy area we were sitting on became crowded with blankets and concert-goers.  We enjoyed some people-watching, and even made a few acquaintances around us.  Everyone seemed nice.  One lady even shared her Chocolate Riesens with us. Now that’s a nice person.

At 7 o’clock the first band opened.  Love and Theft.  Hmm, not sure the origin of that name, but they were pretty good.  Then the second performer, Brantley Gilbert.  I’m not really sure what genre of music he represents.  Country?  Heavy Metal?  Rock?  Anyway, we decided he’s a cross between Metal and Country, therefore, Mountry.  Yep, we could be our own comedy troupe.

Then the sun set, and darkness fell across the venue.  And somewhere lurking in the shadows must have been every wild and crazy person in the Denver Metro, because now they were all around us.  The once calm, friendly, chocolate sharing, crowd was snuffed out and replaced by drunken, stoned, Tim McGraw fans.  Or perhaps just fans.  Fans of parties in general, and the music doesn’t really matter.

Our once comfy section for eight on the soft grass and clean blankets, was now littered with beer bottles.  Our blankets were soaked, and I’m not sure from what.  The smell of cigarettes and pot (thanks to the passing of that amendment) wafted through the air making it thick and difficult to breathe.  Then dozens of people started making their way through our little oasis.  Trampling over our blankets.  Cutting through inches of space between us.  And going where?  I still don’t know, but they came by the dozens.

By the light of our cell phones we grabbed our blankets and belongings.  And stood.  We stood close together.  Not one more person was breaking through this human chain of eight strong links.  No way.

Oh, and Tim McGraw was still singing.  For some reason he had no clue what was going on in Section D.  Silly guy.

About 10 p.m. we decided enough was enough.  Now it was our turn to make our way through the crowd.  Holding onto each other for dear life, we headed to the nearest exit.

We made it!

Outside the gates of Fiddlers Green Park, we burst out laughing.  That’s all we could do.  Because in that moment, there were no words.  There was no great explanation we could give to our tween and teen daughters.  Never did we expect a concert, under the stars, to be so, so…. Honestly, I still don’t have the words for what it was, but it was an evening I will cherish and never forget.

Because we were with friends. 

And it really doesn’t matter what you do, or who you see in concert.  When you are with friends, it’s all good.  You are together.  Making memories.

And by the way, the concert tickets were free. Whew!