Another early night with the dizzies

I so need to get my nails done. The Mom and I got our hair cut yesterday. Tomorrow the handyman is coming. So no nails until Wednesday at the earliest.

Welcome CaDiva to the world of blogging. She has so many stories to tell.

I talked her into it after I listened to The Mom and The Sister sing songs their dad and mom used to sing to them. We are going to lose all of those stories because we never think to turn the video on at these times.

I could tell you about the songs my mother sang to me as a child. But they all had something to do with what happened to children who's mother died and father was no good.  SPOILER ALERT They died alone in the snow.

Any way we have added two new labels, Concerts I have been to and Celebrity Encounters.

Off the top of my head I can say Tom Jones, Lou Rawls, Roger Whittaker, Bruce Springsteen (twice), Helen Reddy, Reba and Cher.

Encounters are mostly political - Ann Richards, Hillary and Chelsey Clinton and Rosalyn Carter.

There may be more but I'm tired and wobbly. So more later, OK?

You know that T-shirt that says, "I may be old, but I've seen all the really good bands"? Well, I think I qualify to own one ...

Periodically I will mention to MiDiva that I have seen this group or that artist in concert and her response is that I should start writing down all the artists I have seen perform live.

So this is the beginning of that compilation -- and I will be adding those recollections when something jogs my memory.

The most recent, of course, was Reba McEntire.  We saw her at this year's State Fair.  The first time I saw her was when I was working at a country radio station in Northern California.  The station had a partnership with a performing arts center and would frequently act as Master of Ceremonies when a country act was scheduled to perform.

This was early in Reba's career, and my strongest memory is of her sitting at a table in the lobby signing autographs.  I remember her as a genuine, nice person and it was such a pleasure to meet her. She put on an amazing show and still does to this day.

Sunday at the Fair - the Reba McEntire Concert

We haven't been to the fair at night since CaDiva came to live in Iowa. But we had tickets to the Reba concert. And so we braved the night time crowd to enjoy a great story-teller with 10,000 fellow fans.

We decided to have dinner at the fairgrounds. CaDiva was still a little timid when it came to eating the rich, fried foods at the fair. I didn't want to glutton my way through the vendors if I couldn't share it with her. I ended up with a lovely brisket sandwich from the Steer-n-Stein. We both had limeades to cool off. Eventually, CaDiva went for a turkey leg. They are so good.

Finally, we decided to get seated at the grandstand. Our tickets were dead center stage, although we were up on the second tier. Even so, we could see the stage quite well. At least we were able to see it until these eight women came to the two rows ahead of us. Fortunately for CaDiva and I, we were to the right of these 26-year-old-wanna-bes who, except for their repeated trips to the beer vendor, stood from the moment Reba hit the stage.

Even after asking them to please be seated, they continued to perform as if they were singing into a hairbrush in front of their bathroom mirror throughout the concert. One of them explained EVERYONE stands at these things. We looked around at the 9,992 other seated concert-goers. And answered, No they don't.

 I'm not grousing for myself here. I'm complaining for the four women seated in my row, directly behind these ill-mannered, over-aged brats. One-by-one these women gave up their opportunity to enjoy the concert in the seats they paid for. One-by-one, each of the women apologized for stepping in front of us as they went in search of someone to find a place where they might be able to see the show even if they weren't able to enjoy the companionship of each other.

Almost as bad, they made me feel like "That Woman", that whiny old woman who was so far out of the loop she couldn't let some young people just enjoy themselves.

I enjoyed the concert as much as you can in an open air grandstand with less then state-of-the-art sound system. I really enjoyed the songs I remembered, and I just enjoyed being there with CaDiva on our Anniversary.

But you can give me one additional gift. If any of you encounter someone describing how she enjoyed being with her "posse" at the Reba concert Sunday August 16, 2015 in Section KL, rows 16 and 17, seats 8, 9. 10, and 11 - tell her next time to sit her butt in her chair unless she agrees to pay extra for the air space above her over-processed hair-do.

A Night in a Tent

The Tent is up! What a Team!

Well we got back to the tent after touring downtown Webster City and started to make ourselves at home when CaDiva and HRH decided to walk down to the Kybos, which were at the park entrance and as I told you, we were camped in the far corner.

Weenies.

I decided to sit in the shade and hydrate since I was sweating out as much as I took in. I still had the lemonade glass which had been refilled with water and tea and water again and I'll admit I was zoning out a bit when I heard something oddly familiar behind me.

A deep soothing masculine voice assuring someone that it was no bother at all. I turned my head and broke out laughing as I recognized CaDiva riding in the utility golf cart with a fine-looking Webster City police officer. She was hugging him as HRH approached on foot. All I could say was, "How did I know it was you?"

CaDiva explained it later when she said the young officer had asked her if there was anything he could do to help and she asked him for a ride back from the Kybos. He complied and HRH walked. She mentioned SEVERAL times that she was standing right there when CaDiva climbed aboard and road off. I think next time we do this, she may take her bike to the Kybos and just count that CaDiva let get her own ride home.

By this time I had connected with Not-Hank and TWC. They weren't going to even leave Des Moines until 7:30 so we decided to find dinner without waiting for them. As I was more than comfortable where I sat ... well comfortable was a strong term ... I was more like melted into the camping chair. And since HRH is younger and the car belongs to CaDiva it seemed only sensible for the two of them to go back to the Casey's and get some food. And since the Casey's was so close to those lovely pork chops on a stick, they might as well bring some back.

At that point, we didn't know the pork chop dealer would come scoping out the camp site at regular intervals to deliver their beguiling meaty moistness to the other-white-meat-addicts around the park. By the time we found that out we had scarfed down the last pork chop run and were sucking back some more iced tea while whining about the lack of pie.

We were laughing and telling tales and making plans when the lady in the next camp over came by with three pieces of apple pie still warm from their stove. Oh, I do love Iowans.

We were a little worried about losing TWC's parking place when a GREAT BIG RV started to pull in between the two trees we were set up behind. We watched in amazement as the behemoth barely missed being wedged under a lower branch. As the driver let youngsters out of the side doors we thought they were just going to abandon the hulk where it sat. Then, just as slowly, the driver worked it back out from under the tree limb. When she unwound the RV and got it headed back towards the road, she beckoned her young passenger back into the vehicle with the single instruction..."This never happened."

Soon the sun began to set and we were a little concerned about Not-Hank and TWC when we got the first of several phone calls as they navigated the same jumble of closed streets and park entrances masquerading as a towing service driveway. We discussed driving down to direct them in but feared losing our parking space. Soon enough, though, TWC declared he thought he found us.

I walked to the edge of the bike trail to wave TWC into the parking space. I had been there a few minutes when a two-wheeled missile approached me as if I were lit up by the infrared beams of a Seal Team. By the time I recognized TWC he was laughing his butt off.

As he is considerably younger than, well most adults, I used the time honored response..."You know you are adopted." He didn't care, we had plenty of space for what turned out to be more of an 18-wheeler than a truck with a trailer and he and Not-Hank were ready to party. They wandered towards the road and we settled down for mature lady time. I warned both of them I wasn't going to explain anything back at the office if they failed to return in time to start the bike ride the next day. I'm not certain, but I think I heard something akin to "Yeah Yeah sure mom."

Soon HRH, CaDiva and I realized the music we were hearing was live. We thought Three-Dog Night wasn't going to start until 9:00 but it was only 8:30. But as we heard the first strains of "Momma Told Me Not to Come" we realized the breeze wasn't the best thing about our site.

We listened for a few hours and then settled into the tent. I discovered this involved a lot of crawling around on the ground to get down to to the air mattress. This is not only completely undignified but more than a little uncomfortable for a fat woman with arthritis. However, the definition of undignified was raised considerably when the temperature dropped just enough for me to quit sweating and needing to pee.

But once again, it is late and the Fab Five are being interviewed wearing their golds, so I'll finish this tomorrow.