My parents will be visiting Las Vegas in September, and they've made an interesting proposition to me. If I meet them there, and promise not to force them to see female mud wrestling at The Frontier, they'll pay for my hotel room and take me to a show. That's a pretty sweet deal, even though Vegas without mud-covered floozies is like New York without pigeons, or Iowa without boredom.
However, there's a catch. The show my parents want to see is a Toby Keith concert. I don't know much about country music, but as I understand it, Toby Keith lives in a small barn in Oklahoma, where he drinks Jack Daniels and writes songs about incest. That part sounds pretty great, but as I understand it, Toby Keith also thinks all Middle-Eastern people should be blown up with nuclear weapons, and babies that aren't conceived in a pickup truck are failures in the eyes of God.
And when he says "God," he means the father of Jesus Christ, our lord and savior. When I say "God," I'm usually referring to the person who invented slippery shrimp. This means the two of us might not get along so well.
To be honest, I don't think my parents even like Toby Keith. I think they're only doing this because they know his performance will annoy me. Other than politics, my parents are very similar to me, so I wouldn't put it past them. However, I'm still planning to go to this concert for one reason: I want to get drunk with toothless bumpkins in a parking lot.
Tailgating isn't seen often anymore. Most sporting events and concerts outlaw it, even the music festivals that last an entire weekend, but country music people are different. They're a group of human beings who drink so heavily that the laws of our country, and sometimes even the laws of physics itself, no longer apply.
Want to break up the tailgating before a Tim McGraw concert? Good freaking luck. You better have a police force ready to wrassle with 200 drunk hillbillies. Superman himself couldn't succeed against hundreds of wasted, mossbacked yokels who threw out the idea of scruples and decency along with their seventh empty beer can. Even with more urbanized country singers like Shania Twain or LeAnn Rimes, you still have tailgating.
It's this attitude that I respect about country music fans. The whole reason I'm planning to go is to partake in that attitude. Though the hick factor should be pretty tame in Vegas, It'll still be interesting to see how people react to my sarcastic liberalism, hipster looks, and tendency to boo when people sing songs involving racial slurs. But there's certain things a person must do for the experience rather than the enjoyment. I hated working six months as a construction laborer, but I did it for the experience. I hated twirling signs for $10/hr here in L.A., but I did it for the experience. I hate drinking Diet Shasta Cola, but I do it for the experience. Or for my lack of money. But drinking Diet Shasta is still an experience.
So bring it on, mom and dad. Take me to your backwater plow jockey concert. I'm ready for adventure, and I'm going to get so drunk that I won't even understand the crappy lyrics. Yeehaw!
 |
- Digg this! - | Mail me - | Recommend - | Donate - |  |
Advertisements
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||