It's a good title, but I didn't come up with it. Eventually, I'll let you in on that... but let's back up to the beginning of Friday, July 7 shall we?

Sitting at my desk, just like any other Friday. Working on the Literary Gazette, (which will be coming out soon btw). My phone rings. I, of course, answer it. 

"Hey, It's Fox"

"Yo," I reply.

Seriously, this is how we talk to each other. Maybe it's from years of working together... maybe we're just that lazy. Either way...

He then goes into a little conversation about Forestburg and The Little Mermaid. I comment how Alex (my younger daughter) was in the pit orchestra at her school for that production and it seems to be a hit. He recommends I go see it... it doesn't feel right without taking her though since she worked SO hard on it all year. (She's in West Virginia... but that's a whole different story)

He then goes on to say he's not up to doing the concert tonight. My mind draws a blank until I look at the calendar and realize, OH! I was supposed to go see Mellencamp with him. Oops. 

Instead, he suggests I go photograph it for kicks and he'll take the night off and settle in with Dharma. What the heck... I haven't done one yet this year... 

We sign off with our laterzs, and I realize I have a second ticket to take someone with me. 

A flurry of texting, even a Facebook post. Nothing. No one wants to go see the Cougar. Now, don't get me wrong... is he my first concert choice? Nah. But, still, to see someone who was a musical legend in his day? And a free ticket? How could my friends pass this up?

I even got a reply from one of my friends saying "Who's that?"

SERIOUSLY? What hole did they live in? UGH. Next friend, not interested. Another one is working. That led me to the Facebook post. Because if nothing else, I'm sure one of my 300+ friends who is local wants to go just for a laugh. No responses, not even a like... well, poop. 

I had an MRI scheduled for my knee, so I went to that mid afternoon. After that was done, I went (on a whim) to a bar down the road that my friend works at. After 2 beers and some sweet talking, I almost had her convinced. The caveat? She had to work the next morning at the bar again. 

"Don't worry, we can be out of there by 10 pm if the set list is right. I'll have done my job, you got a free concert, and we can both go to bed. Plus, it's only 20 minutes from home"

She rolled her eyes. Seriously. Whelp... I may be going to this one solo. 

Finally, she caved. After the night shift came in and told her she needs to let her hair down and live a little. Which is amusing since she's got a cropped cut. 

I drop her off at her house, conveniently across the street from me, and head home to charge some batteries. In ten minutes, it was pouring. Winds blowing, lightning, thunder. I swear a witch went by on a bicycle. So, I added an umbrella to my camera bag and said screw it and went to collect her.

(Are you bored with my narrative yet? Waitt, it'll be over soon.)

Off we went to Bethel Woods. A quick ride, light traffic and we were parked. I slung my big camera bag over my shoulder and we started our walk to the gates. 

Now, in case you didn't know, Bethel Woods has a new bag policy. I wasn't worried because I cleared it with them before hand. However, every single person who;d had a few beers was more than willing to shout, yell, point, and make me well aware that I wouldn't be allowed in with that. I laughed, said thanks, and continued on. 

At the gate, I got checked just like everyone else, but with the bag. All was well.

My friend Paula commented on how gorgeous, clean and amazing it was. I realized at that point, she'd never been there. 

As she admired the flowers on the way down, I said hello to the many volunteers and guards that I knew from previous years. We got to our seats with no problem. I told her, first three numbers of each set, I'll be working, but other than that, I'm free. 

So, here's where the Sad Clowns and Hillbillies come in. That was the tour name. An interesting choice, but hey... rock stars are interesting creatures.

First up was Carlene Carter. And now, excuse my ignorance, but I didn't pay attention. No clue who she was. Until she started telling a story about her mother. And then it dawned on me. The woman I was taking pictures of was June Carter-Cash's daughter. OOOOHHHHHH. Freakin sweet. She had a gorgeous voice, was having fun on stage and was really easy to photograph. A few stories about writing songs with her mom, and how she wrote one for Johnny Cash as a birthday present and her set was over. Too soon, I thought. I was just really getting into it. I sat back down in my seat next to Paula and laughed at all the facebook notifications I was now getting with people saying they would have went if they had known. Hey, you snooze, you loose. 

Looking at the next name I was going to photograph Emmylou Harris. I'm not going to lie. She wasn't my style. Low key, old style country singer. Gorgeous voice, but the songs just weren't the upbeat punch that I think the crowd needed to get ready for John to take the stage. I only needed one number to photograph her. She pretty much stood still... I may have mumbled something about the living dead standing there on the stage... but I digress. 

The only song I like din that set was   Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, (Rodney Crowell cover) (with Carlene Carter and Lily & Madeleine)

After that, I walked away to the bathroom and to get a drink. It seems most of the crowd had the same idea. And those that didn't... well, they were probably sleeping in their seats. 

After a good half hour, we wandered back and I assumed the position for photographing John Cougar and/or Mellencamp. 

Now that was something worth staying for. His first three numbers were full of gestures, stories, and laughter as he sang with a voice that was damn near what he recorded with in the 80s. I was impressed. I knew I only had three songs to get the money shot. So with both cameras at hand and a fast shutter speed, I snapped away. When the third song was done I crossed my fingers as I sadly went back to the seat. We stayed through song 8. An acoustic version of Jack & Diane. He told an amazingly funny story about it. And the crowd did a sing-a-long as he crooned out the vocals. 

Walking back up the hill to beat the crowd and laughing at my still pinging phone, Paula mentioned that if I ever needed a concert buddy again, she'd be the Sad Clown if I was the Hillbilly. 

Deal.