One year my husband and I volunteered to work the Box Office at Austin City Limits. After our shift each day we would meander across the road and enter what I affectionately call “the human soup”. After high temperatures and rain on and off all day, thousands of people all crowded together competing for those precious spots of real estate closest to the stage tend to become, well, they become soupy.
This particular day we had brought our two sand chairs and were fortunate enough to get a nice spot close to the stage that was showing the acts we wanted to see most.
Do you want to feel like you were there with us that day? Watch this.
During the intermission my husband brought Matt back with him. Matt is in his 20’s and he is our friend Shelley’s son. How can I describe Matt? He’s got this pretty cherub face that I’m sure aides him in getting away with murder. He’s adorable and has a smile plastered on his face 99% of the time. And this particular day Matt is lit up like Times Square on New Years Eve.
My husband left us to get beers for the upcoming show and asked Matt and I to move “closer to the stage” while he was away. As he moved into the undulating sea of peeps, Matt and I stood, picked up the chairs, moved forward about 3 feet, looked at each other and decided “yeah, this is close enough” and sat back down.
So, like I said, Matt is kind of wasted. But not so far gone that he isn’t on the make and he asks me “So, what’s the deal with you and him? You guys together, or what?”
Matt is what? In his twenties? And he’s Shelley’s son. And he’s trying to figure out if he can hit on me, or not? How cute is that?!?
I tell Matt that we’re married. I want to think he was super bummed out. (hey, it’s my blog) But he quickly recovers “So who’re we waiting to see?” And I tell him, “Van Morrison! Yay!”
Minutes tick by and my husband is still not back with the libations. Matt and I have tried calling him on the cell phone, but everyone around us are also revving up their cell phones so the signals are jammed. “So who’re we waiting to see?” Matt asks again. And I tell him, “Van Morrison! Yay!”
More time passes and still no husband. The guy sitting behind us has a cell signal and loans us his phone. It’s really loud and I can’t even tell if he has answered, but I shout into the phone anyway asking where he is and hang up. My husband calls the guy’s cell phone back “tell my wife to hold up the umbrella.” We have this cute umbrella that is a blue sky with clouds. We brought it for the rain, but it also makes a nice focal point if you’re trying to be seen in a huge crowd.
I’m holding up our umbrella so my husband can see us and Matt asks….”Who’re we waiting to see?” and I reply “Van Morrison! Yay!”
“Man, really?” he finally asks. “I wanted to see John Mayer. Are you sure this isn’t the stage for John Mayer?” “No Matt, John Mayer is all the way on the other side of the park. It would take you forever to get over there now.” His cherub face isn’t smiling anymore. He says with frustration, “Wow man, all this time I thought we were waiting to see John Mayer.”
Um, really? Even when I have told him several times already that we were waiting to see Van Morrison? Then I remember. Matt is lit up like Times Square on New Years Eve. It is my duty to explain to him the difference between John Mayer and Van Morrison.
“Matt, it’s actually the universe speaking to you. You see, John Mayer’s in his twenties so you have another twenty or so years to see him live, but this might be your last chance to ever see Van Morrison live, on stage, singing his heart out just for us.”
He turns to look at me and I see the lightbulb flash behind his eyes.
“Omigod! You’re right! Man! I’m so happy now I’m sitting here with you guys waiting to see Van Morrison!”
I know! Van Morrison! Yay!
My husband finally makes it over to us, beers in hand, and the show starts. We boogie the night away doing our own little moondances and feel full of love for the enigma known simply as…
Van Morrison! Yay!
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