(no subject)
So hubby and I drove the required 1.5 hours to the Tom Petty concert through miles and miles of traffic and overcast skies. Listening to the radio, we heard live interviews from the Heartbreakers, and thunderstorm warnings for northeast Indy.
That would be the heart of the concert.
We passed sign after sign held up by now-windblown and desperate Petty fans soliciting tickets. One was making a regular business of it, "I Want To Buy/Sell Tickets" his computer generated sign read. Hubby and I scoffed and drove slowly on.
Once we were at the entrance to the miles and miles of regular parking (we were not so lucky to have VIP) the lightening flashed, thunder boomed, and umbrellas materialized.
My husband was wearing shorts and a tshirt, I was in a skirt, silky top and heels. We dug in the back of the car for the sweatshirts we'd brought along for the 4th, covered up and headed toward the line.
My husband took this opportunity to mention that the stadium was covered, but open all around, carport-style.
The lightening worsened, the drunks ahead of us struggled to pull on their garbage-bag raincoats, and my husband and I looked at each other.
"It's up to you," he said, "I've seen him several times, I know you wanted to see him."
I looked down at the droplets starting to cover my bare legs.
"Let's scalp 'em."
He grinned.
Before we were back to the car, we'd made a deal with a twenty-something jock with a straw cowboy hat on whooped and hollered to his friends that he'd just got two tickets, and flip-flopped away.
Just as we navigated through the crowd and out of the parking lot, the rain came down.
It was the worst storm I've seen yet in Indy, the roads were nearly washed out. Pedestrians were instantaneously soaked. The stadium would be flooded before the night was through, concert-goers struggling to get out, wading in 4+ inches of water. The stage lost power, the band backed away from the now-dangerous equipment, and the concert was cut dramatically short, though the ensuing drives home were certainly not.
My husband and I were safely home, dry, and reaping the warm, alcoholic benefits of free money.
That would be the heart of the concert.
We passed sign after sign held up by now-windblown and desperate Petty fans soliciting tickets. One was making a regular business of it, "I Want To Buy/Sell Tickets" his computer generated sign read. Hubby and I scoffed and drove slowly on.
Once we were at the entrance to the miles and miles of regular parking (we were not so lucky to have VIP) the lightening flashed, thunder boomed, and umbrellas materialized.
My husband was wearing shorts and a tshirt, I was in a skirt, silky top and heels. We dug in the back of the car for the sweatshirts we'd brought along for the 4th, covered up and headed toward the line.
My husband took this opportunity to mention that the stadium was covered, but open all around, carport-style.
The lightening worsened, the drunks ahead of us struggled to pull on their garbage-bag raincoats, and my husband and I looked at each other.
"It's up to you," he said, "I've seen him several times, I know you wanted to see him."
I looked down at the droplets starting to cover my bare legs.
"Let's scalp 'em."
He grinned.
Before we were back to the car, we'd made a deal with a twenty-something jock with a straw cowboy hat on whooped and hollered to his friends that he'd just got two tickets, and flip-flopped away.
Just as we navigated through the crowd and out of the parking lot, the rain came down.
It was the worst storm I've seen yet in Indy, the roads were nearly washed out. Pedestrians were instantaneously soaked. The stadium would be flooded before the night was through, concert-goers struggling to get out, wading in 4+ inches of water. The stage lost power, the band backed away from the now-dangerous equipment, and the concert was cut dramatically short, though the ensuing drives home were certainly not.
My husband and I were safely home, dry, and reaping the warm, alcoholic benefits of free money.