You And Tequila Make Me Crazy

Sometimes all it takes to change your perspective is some country music

Yes, we do!

Some of y’all may find this hard to believe, but there are days when I don’t want to obsess over politics, religion, social issues, or anything serious. Today is one of those days. Last night, one of my favorite country music artists, Kenny Chesney, played in Bend, OR. So Erin and I drove the two hours and forty-five minutes over Government Camp and through Warm Springs to see him play.

It was a treat because Chesney plays almost exclusively in large venues like football stadiums. So to see him in an outdoor amphitheater with 7-8,000 of my closest friends was an opportunity to set my cares aside for a few hours. Combine that with the fact that I haven’t seen or read any news since 8 a.m. yesterday, and it feels good to be disconnected. Or at least as disconnected as I ever get.

I have two grand passions in life- writing and music (Well, three, actually, but soccer doesn’t fit in here). Writing is the one thing in my life about which I’m confident of my talent. It’s always come easily to me, and even though I’ve worked hard to hone my craft, my writing is stream-of-consciousness. I only wish my 60 words-per-minute fingers could keep up with my 90 words-per-minute brain.

It was a great night to think of nothing but having fun and enjoying the music.

Music, however, has long proven far more complicated and mysterious. I started taking guitar lessons a little over 11 years ago, and I’ve become a decent rhythm guitarist. I played with the band at our wedding, and I could probably hold my own in a few bands, but my confidence level is nowhere near what it is with my writing.

Writing is like breathing for me, but my guitar is a fickle wench, and she can leave me feeling as if I know nothing, even though I’ve been playing for over a decade. Though I can border on overconfidence when it comes to my writing, my self-confidence when I strap on my guitar can hover just barely above zero. I also tend to be way too hard on myself. Instead of appreciating what I can do, I tend to berate myself for what I feel I can’t do or am unable to do as well as I think I should.

I’ve learned to love music differently than I love writing, perhaps because it doesn’t come so easily to me. I have to work harder, and it involves more repetition. It involves different muscles and ways of stretching my creativity. I think the reason I enjoy watching professionals like Kenny Chesney so much is that I know how hard it is to do what they do. So I have a profound appreciation and admiration for their talent and skill. Frankly, I’m in awe just watching them do their thing.

I was joined by a few thousand of my closest friends….

I last saw Kenny Chesney in concert at Moda Center in Portland in 2011. I paid $25 for a ticket and was happy to be anywhere in the building. Unfortunately, I was sitting so high up in the arena that my back was against the wall. That’s what $25 got you in those days.

About 30 minutes before the show started, one of Chesny’s roadies came to our section and asked if we wanted to sit on the floor. It took us about a half-second to say, “HELL, YES!” Before I could process what had happened, I went from the supplemental oxygen seats to the 16th row on the arena floor, all for a $25 ticket. It made for a great evening and not one I’ll soon forget.

Fast forward almost exactly 11 years, and our tickets were $125 apiece, but I don’t want to talk about inflation- at least not today.

Two years ago, we had tickets to see Chesney and Michael Frantti at what was supposed to be the first event of any kind at the then brand-new SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles. I think we all remember what happened in 2020, though. Something about a virus, right? COVID-19 canceled the entire tour, which Chesney rescheduled for last summer, so we kept our tickets and looked forward to going in the summer of 2021.

Except that COVID-19 had other ideas, and Chesney ended up canceling that tour as well, which helps to explain why I was so excited about finally being able to see him in concert last night. It was worth the wait, but seeing him in L.A would’ve been fun.

That said, an evening with him in Bend was rather enjoyable.

I know I can play the guitar, but could I do it in front of several thousand people??

I know I’ll probably get some pushback from Stacey and Cheryl on this, but I’d wager that there are few places more beautiful on a warm, sunny July evening than Bend, OR. To the west are the Cascade mountains, which perfectly frame any sunset. A few yards to the east is the Deschutes River, and just past that is Bend’s Old Mill District. To say that an evening like that in Bend doesn’t suck would be an understatement. OK, it’s not Italy, but what is?

Even on a day like yesterday, which topped out at 95 degrees, the humidity was around 15%. Once the sun goes down, the temperature quickly drops into the low 70s, which makes the evening quite comfortable. It’s pretty much idyllic, and it’s barely a three-hour drive from home.

Sometimes it’s nice to be able to write about something that doesn’t involve the crumbling of American democracy. Or the creeping onset of Christian Nationalism. Or Donald Trump. Or even the Green Bay Packers. It can feel good to set the world aside and enjoy life. Sure, the world is probably still going to Hell. Realistically, though, how much will change during the 24 hours I’m not paying attention? Except for my attitude and peace of mind?

It’s nice to be able to have a music break and enjoy it with friends and loved ones, especially those you don’t get to see often. I’ll be back in my bubble soon enough, but for 24 hours or so, I get a chance to ignore it all and enjoy the company of some people who are important to me.

And it makes me wonder why I don’t do this more often? :-)