I Haz a Giddee

see more dog and puppy pictures

I'm finally going to go see Garth in concert! You've got no idea how much this means to me. Seriously, I'm pretty sure I'm going to start bawling happy tears when he walks out on that stage!

And my husband will be a total grump because A) He doesn't like Country music and B) I've always been straight-up with him about the fact that Garth is the only man I would ever leave him for (ignoring the fact that he's now married to Trisha, whose name I say in my head with the same inflections that Seinfield used to say "Hello Newman"). But we'll be kid-free and in Vegas, so Ima thinkin' I can find SOME creative way to exorcize da grumpeez outta him. *winkwink-nudgenudge*

Back in the early 90's I was mostly listening to Oldies and Classic Rock radio stations because there wasn't really much of anything new and exciting happening in Rock music and pretty much nothing worth listening to in Pop. I don't remember what year it was exactly, but around that same time, NBC aired that first Garth concert special. So I figured I'd tune in a see what this Garth guy was all about and... HOLY SHIT! What IS that?! I want more, More, MORE!

Naturally I went out and bought all the tapes I could get my hands on (yes I said TAPES- as in CASSETTES. Shut up. I had to work with what that MomMobile had.) and I loved every minute of them.

Later, his greatest hits CD, The Hits, ended up saving my sanity, and that's not hyperbole. My mother was staying with us for about 6 weeks after having back surgery. At the time, my two oldest kids were in 1st grade, demon spawn #3 was a demanding toddler, and #4 wasn't born yet. Because #3 was so demanding I was only working part time and had to do much of my work at home whenever she would let me or when my husband was home to watch her. So, add my demanding mother into the mix, and a husband who resented the way she treated me so that the tension between them made things worse, and really, there were days I was sure I was going to go bug-fucking nuts postal.

Only Garth's The Hits CD saved them all from Armageddon by Bevzilla. See my only escape was to go to the grocery store. So I'd go at night when it was dark and no one could see me. Then, after hurrying to get the groceries, I'd drive aimlessly around back roads singing to The Hits at the top of my lungs. Yeah, my singing would make your ears bleed, but at least singing along with Garth is easy enough that I didn't hurt myself trying. Anyway, after about an hour of that, I was always renewed and recharged and could go home and face the tension and pressure again for a few days until it built up enough that I needed to "get groceries" again.

And Garth also brought me, a rock fan, over to Country radio. I always liked Country Rock groups like Buffalo Springfield, Poco, The Eagles, but Country WESTERN? Nuh-uh, no way. Too twangy. Or it WAS, before the appearance of Garth, the rest of the "Class of '89", and many others they later influenced. And I've continued to be a Country fan, although lately I've found myself listening to Classic Rock a lot again (too many sound-alike girl singers, I think).

I always wanted to go see a Garth concert, but back when he was touring with that wild, kick-ass stage show, I just wasn't staying current with what was going on outside of home and work. So it never failed that, when he was playing in Cleveland or Pittsburgh, I wouldn't hear about it until weeks after the concerts were sold out.

So when it was announced that he would be playing at The Wynn Las Vegas in a small, intimate venue a few weekends a year, I knew I HAD to go. But I didn't bother to try the first quarter because I knew there would be little chance I'd get through. So I've been waiting for the next quarter sale dates to be announced.

Well Good News-Bad News. Good News- the tickets were going on sale this morning. Bad News- I'd be slogging around the slushy cold streets of Pittsburgh on a college visit with Demon Spawn #3 starting at 8 AM. NONONONONONO!

So I emailed Demon Angel Spawn #1 and asked her if she would try for me. I gave her the dates we could go, my Visa card number, and told her she had to pretend to be me because of the strict ticketing rules. I even told her she was my favorite.

Well, God Bless her, she was on the phone and online for over three hours, but she finally got through and got us two tickets! Did I mention that she's my favorite?

I still can't believe it. And I probably won't completely believe it until I'm sitting in the Encore theater and see him walk out. Thus the aforementioned happy tears will commence.