It's better on the lawn...
My dear hubby is a punker/reggae-mon at heart, so last night he got us tickets to the big reggae/island music bash the local radio station put on down at the Shell Amphitheater. I'm trying to get out more (I need to get my medicine dose increased!!), so tagged along.
Took my book about Miss Julia (an older southern widow who discovers her late husband not only left her a pile of money but also an illegitimate son, to boot!). It is hilarious- the type of book you get so tickled reading so start to cry. Brought my beach towel/pillow and a bottle of water.
Anyway, we got there early and picked out a nice spot on the upper lawn, at the very back, and spread out our towels. I kicked off my shoes, assumed the reclined position, and read until it got too dark. Clear sky and stars above, Diamond Head looming just to our right with the red sunset reflecting off it's dry, dusty sides...a nice sea breeze blowing the scent of- well, you can imagine what the preferred smoke of the night was.
Everybody's chillin', the place is sold out and packed, and we are definitely twice as old as 99.5% of the people there. I saw one other gray head.
Ah, but I had a great time. Had there been more than a half inch of grass/dirt between my butt and the lava rock underneath it, it would have been a wonderful time! The music was fine (even though every song sounded the same to me), the weather beautiful, and my anxieties took a holiday.
We left about 45 minutes before the show was over- wanted to beat the drunks to the highway. Got fast food on the way home and sat in the van listening to the radio (hubby kept pointing out songs we'd heard that night...they all still sounded the same to me), and chatting about nothing as only two people married for nearly 23 years can.
A very nice evening.