Education is never complete
This past week I had the pleasure of experiencing one of those priceless moments the credit card commercials always talk about.
When the announcement was made about six weeks ago that country music hunk Tim McGraw was coming to the Kansas Coliseum, it's a wonder we didn't shatter glass at our house.
Both daughters were screaming and jumping up and down like they'd just learned Elvis was in the building. You can guess they are big Tim McGraw fans. We decided a "girls night out" was in order, invited my one-and-only sister to join us, and ordered tickets as soon as they went on sale.
Brenda and I have been attending concerts — mostly country — since we were in grade school. Tickets were cheaper back then, but some things never change.
Concert T-shirts are still overpriced, so are sodas, beer, and popcorn. Women still wait in long lines to use the bathroom. Men still line the walls, waiting for those women.
And the people.
There's always a rowdy bunch seated right behind us, swilling and spilling beer. There is the solitary 104-year-old, 86-pound weather-worn woman sitting in front of us, sipping her beer, and enjoying the music. Who knows? Maybe it's the same woman at every concert. And last but not least, you always can count on someone four or five rows in front of you to drink too much and provide a floor show not suitable for innocent eyes. With 8,000-plus people, you never lack for something to see.
When Daughter #1 was about seven we took her to see Randy Travis in Salina. She was a huge Travis fan. Dressed in her jeans and pink cowboy boots, she was wide-eyed and excited. About half-way through the show she curled up and went to sleep on my lap. I might be the only one who remembers that concert.
A few years ago, we took both girls to the Kansas Coliseum to see Reba McIntire. That was the first concert experience for Daughter #2. She remembers that show — down to the area of the building where we sat.
The girls don't lack for concert-going education. They've both attended several concerts in their short lives. But somewhere along the way, I'm sorry to say, I failed.
Brenda and I always have abided by the country-concert dress code of boots and jeans. This is where I failed with my daughters' education. When we left the house for the concert the other evening, they both were wearing pink skirts and flip-flops. Where did I go wrong, I wonder.
In spite of their attire, we still had a good time. I may have surprised them by demonstrating their usually reserved mother can whoop and holler, stomp and yell with the best of them. And I know I surprised them by staying awake past 11 o'clock.
Despite the late hour, stiff knees, and raspy voice the next day, it truly was a priceless experience. We all saw a first-rate concert. The girls got to see that their mother still knows how to have fun. And Mom got to see that in spite of their lack of knowledge about country concert dress codes, both girls had just as much fun in their pink skirts as we did in our boots and jeans.
— DONNA BERNHARDT
