Is there a such thing as concert etiquette? And if so- what are the ground rules? If I were to try and answer this question giving my opinion, I would have to say things like, standing on your seat in front of those behind you wouldn’t be the kindest thing to do. I think invading someone’s space, their personal bubble should only be broken if there is an invitation- it may be an unspoken invitation, but one can usually tell if everyone is on the same page and in it together. The lines and boundaries are typically drawn right up front, and by all means, should be respected.
But what about talking? Is talking new on the list or it strictly reserved for those who have a stick up their ass and I’m just now, after years of concert experiences, finally getting a good taste of what it’s like to have the one complete jackass, out of all the seats in the entire Bridgestone Arena, residing in my section? I freely admit- I am a talker; me and talking go way back. It’s on my list of my most favorite things to do; I like to talk so much and share my opinions that I have to have a blog just in case there’s no one around to listen. But, in my defense, we were at a rock concert- not the freaking Opera! And it wasn’t like I was talking directly to the noise police- I was speaking to one of the three other people in the group that I was attending the show with.
I was unaware that the noise patrol officer had purchased a seat one row up behind us, and imagine my surprise when I found out. I mean- you wouldn’t ordinarily commit a crime knowing the authorities were looking- I’m no fool, so it was a huge shock to me when one of the Barrelassers with me was talking about her favorite Don Henely song; I should mention we were at The Eagles concert in Nashville, Tn.- when I began to explain how the song she was referring to, Leather and Lace, by Don Henely and Stevie Nicks, was the song my Barrelassin’ husband and I had played in our wedding ceremony as the wedding party walked down the aisle. Apparently, this was more than the man with the stick up his ass, I mean the noise police, or whatever the technical term for him is; jackass I guess, could handle, and he actually leaned over from above us, placed his hand on my shoulder or our shoulders I’m not sure, and actually asked if we would keep it down, stating that “we” meaning himself and whoever else he thought he was at the Opera with, didn’t really need or care to hear about it.
Well, if there’s one thing I do know for sure- it’s that the quickest way to get me to do something is to rudely tell me not to. And I must say, I don’t know what you would call my dis-function, clinically speaking, but I have no real problem telling people what’s on my mind or what I think, but at the same time I almost never, ever say the first thing that comes to mind, and somehow what I’m thinking is not what actually comes out of my mouth, unless I am truly angered or offended by what someone has said to me- and if asked for an opinion I will freely give it in as nice a way as I know how. I do not believe for one second that everyone has to agree with everything someone says for a conversation to flow smoothly and I certainly don’t always tell people what they want to hear. I am objective and open despite what some people may think, but the only people who think otherwise are definitely the people who didn’t hear what they wanted to hear from me.
Anyway- for a single moment, I think I may have gone into shock, which is why I didn’t instantly respond with something more along the lines of, ” Or… you could kiss my ass and sit back down in your seat.” Or perhaps spice it up a little with the ole, ” I’ll bet now you’re kicking yourself for not bringing your hearing-aid with you since you clearly cannot hear the very loud music coming through hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of perfectly good, gigantic speakers over my voice.” And I’m a little disappointed in myself for not giving him a good dose of everything special in me by insisting that he hear, for the duration of the concert, every last detail of my wedding day. After a few seconds of de-scrambling what my ears had just heard and a good, clear processing in my brain, I almost couldn’t keep my mouth shut. It was a very tough battle between my brain and my mouth- and frankly, I’m convinced that the only reason I didn’t take my very first trip to jail was due to the efforts of the Barrelassin’ girl with me who, repeatedly took my hand, and told me to let it go- all while making it perfectly clear that she had my back, so if my mouth won over, I at least knew I wasn’t knee deep in it alone. Although, we were not alone; both of our husbands were with us and neither of them had any problem hearing the music over our story, because they had no idea what was even going on. It wasn’t until I told my husband what the issue was that he looked around, his eyes searching for the man with questionable behavior and so calmly stated, “that man? Cause I’ll kick his ass.” My husband, fully aware that if I really wanted that man’s ass kicked, I would likely already be in a full-blown brawl made his position clear with just a look that says, “my position is ALWAYS… that I will kick your ass if you dis-respect my wife in any way, she can talk as much as she wants…like literally, she will only be quiet when she chooses and that’s only when she’s debating what she wants to tell you next, and you’re actually the winner here- unless she actually does want me to kick your ass, and in that case- I’m glad to do it, because I’m harboring a lot of frustration right now. Have I made myself clear?”
This concludes the history of my history with ‘The History of The Eagles Tour:2013’ and they were fabulous! Definitely check it out if you can.
Enjoy, Barrelassers 🙂