I have already mentioned the Reba McEntire concert and the particulars of anticipation. It seems only fitting that I finish the story now that it has occurred. Because it is an experience that I want to remember. If need be though, you can catch up here and here.
The day of the concert, we all gathered at Lyn’s place to get ready. Somehow it worked out that 9 of us were going. NJ, my four nieces, and my three grand-nieces. I was the oldest and the youngest two were six.
This was the first concert or at least first big concert for my three grand-nieces and I was excited to share this first with them. I was a little worried that since the singer is older than their grandparents that they would be a little bored. So, in the months leading up to the concert I took it upon myself to attempt to build excitement. My mission was to build little Reba fans.
I created a chat called “Reba Girls” and on a monthly basis sent a different Reba song. When we got within the last month I sent songs on a daily basis. My intent with all that homework was to build familiarity. Because who wouldn’t want to listen to Reba sing if you only knew her?
My plan worked. The little girls were so excited the day of that they spent it singing their favorite Reba songs. For the record, their favorites were “Is There Life Out There” of which I couldn’t be prouder of their renditions. And “Going Out Like That.”
This being their first concert, they told me about their plans. They wanted to ask Reba a few questions like what is her favorite color? Where does she live? What is her phone number? It was at this moment I realized I needed to start managing expectations. We would see Reba but she wouldn’t see us. Our seats were in the upper tier of the venue. We weren’t going to actually meet and talk with Reba.
We arrived at the venue and I was disappointed with our seats. I knew we were going to be up there but I thought we were in the lower of the upper tier. We were in the upper of the upper. And on the side. The view from my seat a duct actually blocked the view of the singer’s head. Also, we were so far up that most of the banter between songs sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher. That’s why I am always wary of attending concerts in the Vivint Arena. There is a threshold of good sound and they sell tickets past that threshold. We were past that threshold.
I spent the first two acts stewing. It was my job to get the tickets and I let everyone down. The two youngest also weren’t happy. They came to see Reba and there were two acts in front of her. I forgot to manage expectations on that end.
Before Reba started, one of my nieces switched me seats. At least, I thought that’s what she was doing. Looking back, I might have just taken her seat. Sorry about that, Nic.
All of my nieces have this great gift of taking something and making it better. They did this for me. They made the best of our bad seats and enjoyed the concert. They stood up and sang along and reminded me it wasn’t so much where we were at but the fact that we were all together. We were in the moment. We took that moment and enjoyed it.
Now, Reba is a show(wo)man and she knows how to put on a concert. Even the littles had fun until they were done. They both fell asleep before their two favorite songs were played. But that’s okay, I fell asleep during my very first concert years ago.
The only thing is we now live in a paperless society. There are no longer souvenirs to keep for a bit. Back in my day, I was able to hold onto my first concert ticket as a reminder. The littles got nothing. I am still trying to find some kind of tangible memento for them to hold onto for a while. Any suggestions?
I worried that the girls were only being polite about the level of fun they had. Until Nic sent me a video a couple of weeks later. She taped her girls outside on the swings singing at the top of their lungs. They were singing Reba songs. And that’s when I knew my mission was a success.
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