A bunch of months ago, I managed to snag us a couple of tickets to a concert by THE NATIONAL that was somehow sold out before the tickets even went on sale, which meant the $20 tickets were selling for an exponentially pricey sum. I pried my frugal wallet open. We put the date in our calendars. And then we waited for the bigly day. The bigly day was yesterday, but Suzanne had to work to finish a project and couldn’t get away for an evening. I was going to the concert solo.
I thought of asking somebody to go with me. But I didn’t ask anyone. Secretly, I held out hope that at the last minute, Suzanne would be able to show up. I knew she wouldn’t, but my hope is stubborn. Outside the venue, I faced the facts. I finally asked if anybody needed a ticket. Ding, ding, ding. A winner emerged. Bye-bye, pricey ticket. Bye-bye, stubborn hope that Suzanne shows up.
Yup, it was just me and The Saddle Purse at the outdoor concert. Well, er, me and The Saddle Purse and around 9,000 other people. At the Ogden Amphitheater, there is bench seating for 2000 souls. There’s grass and standing room for about 7000 souls. No assigned seating. General Admission, folks. Bench seating, full. Bleacher seating, full. Grass, full. Bathrooms, full. You’d think that finding one seat for a person with no butt would be an easy feat. Nope. But The Saddle Purse and I finally wedged ourselves into a slice of a bleacher seat. (I could have shown up hours before the concert to stake out the highest seat, but ain’t nobody got time for that!)
The concert was a smash, even in the brief rain which fell. There was sort of a glitch in my experience though. I shall remember THE NATIONAL concert in Ogden forever. I’ll remember it because it was stupendous. And, more interestingly, I’ll remember it because it was the one and only concert I’ve ever attended without once seeing the band. Everybody in the audience stood for the duration of the concert. I’m short. That tells you all you need to know. You can’t fight height.
And still, I give the concert a thumbs-up. That “thumbs-up” means a lot, considering I saw no trace of the band. For all I know, the whole event was an elaborate hoax– a joke on me. The sound system might have been spinning music on vinyl, with no band there at all. I don’t care. I had a fantastic time.