My parents were in town this weekend, mainly for baby shopping (got the nursery furniture purchased/ordered), but also for some much-needed R&R during the holiday weekend. July 4th was their final full day here, and we had big plans for a fabulous outdoor concert that evening, followed by what was sure to be an amazing fireworks display. The only possible hitch in our plans: a small cold front was forecasted to move through that evening. But my favorite weatherman assured us that there would only be “brief showers in a few areas, nothing that should turn the evening into a wash”. So we packed up some ponchos, sure that our preparedness would ward off any inclement weather.
What a load of shit that was. Three songs into the headliners’ set, we were surrounded by lighting and tornado warnings. Not only did we get poured on, but we also endured what had to be one of the worst new-age reggae bands that ever existed as the opening act. The band itself seemed to know how bad they were, as their bass was turned up so loud that we couldn’t even hear the music. My ears immediately throbbed in pain, and I could actually feel my pregnant belly vibrating and cramping as the first horrid sounds poured out over the amphitheater. Add on the smell of recreational drugs surrounding us (which I normally would not have minded at all ;), and the evening almost turned into a complete bust. Somehow, in spite of the horror, the four of us actually managed to have quite a bit of fun – finding places to hide from the music, making fun of the lead singer and guitar player on a nearby TV monitor, and (eventually) experiencing the best instrumental rendition of The Star Spangled Banner since Jimi Hendrix (performed by the headliners’ lead singer). We even got a pretty fantastic story for Bun’s first concert.
In fact, the entire weekend was quite eventful. Bun started kicking up a storm this weekend and seemed to get really excited during the few headliners’ songs that we heard before the storms picked up. (In contrast, Bun remained completely motionless once the bass ramped up for the opening act – Hubby and I are now assured that our child has solid music taste.) Bun continued to dance the night away even after we had left the concert, and gave grandma a few kicks the next morning before they hit the road. And Bun danced for me last night when Hubby played some Pearl Jam, Bare Naked Ladies, and The Who on his guitar. I just need to start exposing Bun to some good reggae ASAP; I’d hate for him/her to have flashbacks of this concert the first time s/he hears Marley!