Another Road Trip Well done

We had a large time in Louisville.  The shopping was fine, we had some tasty food and the show was excellent.  It was outdoors, and there was a chance of thunderstorms, but the rock and roll gods were looking out for us, and it rained nary a drop.  Well, just a couple of tiny drops that made me wonder if we were indeed going to need our ponchos or worse, have another incident like the Eric Clapton tornado that Sissy and I endured a few years ago in Indianapolis.  But the storms stayed away, and we were simply left with a breeze that floated along the riverfront park where 16,000 of us gathered to hear Mumford and Sons.  Thanks goodness, because we've typically had 100 degree weather all summer.  I cannot imagine how hot and stinky things would have been with that kind of heat and all those bodies packed into one place.

The boys from the UK were in fine form, and we managed to get in the gates pretty early, giving us a spot on the grass pretty darn close to the stage.  I'm not good with guessing distance, but I'm going to say we were about forty feet from the stage.

Dear Blackberry, you need a better camera on your phones.  Sincerely annoyed, Hula.

Anyway, we threw our small blanket on the ground and managed to hold a decent piece of space for a while, but inevitably, the folks squeezed closer, and our little patch of real estate became just enough space to stand.  I warded off attempts by three different young folks to squeeze in front of us and push us back.  And can I pause here for just a moment to rant?  Why yes, I think I will. 

Don't get me wrong, I love young people.  I love being around them.  They keep ME young.  But one of my biggest pet peeves is really young girls who believe they can manipulate people into giving them what they want by being cute.  That mess doesn't fly with me.  We had one girl who literally squeezed through the crowd and planted herself in front of me where there wasn't really room enough for her to stand.  In fact, the girl next to me had to lean back to make room for Miss Cuteness and couldn't even stand up straight.  The interloper pretended  to be looking for someone but proceeded to stand there and make herself comfortable.  After it was obvious she wasn't going anywhere, I tapped her on the shoulder and told her to move on.  She batted those eyelashes at me, and I told her in no uncertain terms why she was going to leave NOW.  I may or may not have used my pointing finger.  (The finger of 180 degrees Teen Angel fondly calls it.)  She moved along quickly.  Call me an old fart, but I just didn't feel like taking that kind of crap from someone less than half my age.  I'm older and have more insurance.  Plus, I can afford bail.  Twanda!

Other than that little brush with ridiculousness, we sang, we danced and had a great time.  The band was in great form and rocked the riverfront for us.  I did have a moment while standing in the "pit" where everyone was jumping up and down when I wondered if I'm getting too old to do that kind of thing, but I finally decided I wasn't as long as I could keep up.  However, I will admit to wondering if I was going to get an embolism from standing in one spot for three hours. 

That wraps up our summer concert tour, and I told Hubby last night we were done driving around the countryside for concerts for a while.  And then? This morning I got an email telling me that Bruce Springsteen is going to be at the YUM Center in Louisville in November.  Sweet!  Tickets go on sale Friday.  I'm tempted boys and girls.  Sorely tempted.  And this one is arena seating.  I won't have to arm wrestle teenagers for a place to stand.  I might have to arm wrestle some middle aged farts like me though.  Twanda!