Last Friday night Mike and I went to see The Lumineers. The show was at an outdoor amphitheater and the evening could not have been any more perfect. Just a little heat from the day rising from the concrete and a cool breeze blowing those little hairs at the back of my neck that always slide out of the pile on top of my head. And if the temperature wasn’t enough to make me believe in the promise of fall around the corner, the moon hung low and full and orange in the sky. The band was everything I hoped for when I snapped up the tickets months ago: harmonies, and cellos, and accordions, and suspender wearing drummers, and powerful emotive vocals. And stories. Man, I love it when the songwriter gives a little of the “why” behind their words. And then there was the beer …
Except, there wasn’t.
Wait, what?! You’re probably saying. Did I read that correctly: no beer? I thought this was the beginning of a new series: Bands & Brews?!
Nope. You read correctly. I was excited to get to our seats and not particularly excited about the line for wristbands, so I skipped it, figuring I could always go back later. After the first opening act, the people in front of us left to get drinks. They didn’t make it back until the second opening act was nearly done. The lines were that long.
Here’s the thing, if I had decided to wait in that line, I would have missed the gorgeous harvest moon, which was only visible for a few moments before disappearing over the roof of the pavilion. And I’m sure the air was more still at the base of the amphitheater by the concession stands, so there would have been no fall-kissed breeze at my neck. Also based on the grumbling from all the line-waiters when they returned to their seats, there was clearly a lot of negativity down there.
I love beer, but sometimes it’s just too expensive, you know? And not just because it was $10 for a 12 oz. pour.