I'm trying to win my niece some concert tickets to see Miley Cyrus (yes, I know, but she loves Miley and I love my niece). So they're having this local contest where people have to enter their bad first time concert experience. I called my sister immediately to tell her and she'd already heard about it and at the same time, we both say, "Kenny Rogers". The following is a tale from my childhood. A tale of terror. A tale of Kenny Rogers.
My family was on its first and last cross country trip together from our home outside of Seattle to see my mother’s family in North Carolina. It was two weeks in a wood-paneled station wagon with no air conditioning in the summer of 1983. I was 10, my sister was 9, and my brother was 5, and my parents were in Hell as we sweated through the heat and the screams from us kids that we were touching each other or crossing over imaginary lines on our side of the seat. When the movie Vacation came out, we laughed so hard as Chevy Chase was our dad in taking us to every stupid tourist trap he could find, which a child cannot appreciate, but we all now look back and laugh on.
By the time we reached Springfield, Illinois that fateful day, my poor mother looked like a prisoner of war – hair disheveled, dark circles under her eyes. She would cringe in fear every time one of us children uttered a single word…fearful that our father would once again threaten to “turn this car around right now” if we didn’t shut up and even more fearful that he really would, and then the hell she’d been put through for a week already would not bring her back to North Carolina to see her sister where she would end up staying for a month alone to “help with her mother’s surgery”…I think it was simply to recover from the vacation.
So we’re driving through Springfield, Illinois that day with no intention of stopping when as we drove by some arena, my mother started screaming. We were all scared because for once it was actually quiet and we were sure she’d finally snapped. And then we realized what was happening….”Oh my gosh, KENNY ROGERS!!!!” Yes, Kenny Rogers was playing Springfield that very night, and ever since I could remember my mother was in love with him. His music always filled our house and all of us kids knew all the songs since he was always playing. Looking back I think it was like when the Feds tried to drive out the Branch Dividians in Waco, TX by playing Barry Manilow…she was hoping we would finally flee and leave her in peace. The next few minutes was my mom begging my father to stay the night there so she could go to the concert. He was hesitant because of money and the unexpected stay cutting into our time and such. As I faintly recall, bickering ensued and my mother said how she deserved this and she wanted to do something she wanted to do, not go see the world’s largest drug store or have to deal with screaming kids, etc. So my dad agreed and they began looking for a hotel for us to stay at that night. I think there was even talk about leaving us kids behind at the hotel since I was 10 and often babysat us, but I may be wrong on that. A search for a decent motel or hotel came up empty. There were conventions in town and everything was booked. My mother was so upset and my father finally caved and bought tickets for the whole family to see Kenny Rogers. We were less than thrilled…we were crying.
The time for the show arrives and I saw a whole new side of my mother that night…the side that is the crazy fan. She was bouncing around with excitement the moment we got in there. She bought her Kenny Rogers t-shirt the moment she walked in and quickly ran to the bathroom to change. My brother, sister and I for once stopped fighting and actually bonded together that night as we tried to stay close and avoid the crazy women running amok, namely my mother. My parents led us to our seats which were on the second level. We were in the first row of this section, in basically a large, concrete box. A then unknown Amy Grant at the age of 18, opened up for Kenny Rogers. And then it was time for him. The lights went out and we heard it…”Lady….” My mother starts screaming. “I’m your knight in shining armor…and I love you….” My mother grabbed her chest like she was going to have a heart attack. My sister and I hunched down in embarrassment and my brother looked nothing less than terrified.
Throughout the show my mother proceeded to act like those teenage girls you see in old clips from Beatles shows where they scream, cry, and then pass out. One of the most terrifying parts was when she started screaming that she wanted to have his babies. My father actually looked jealous for a moment, and my sister and I tried to see if we could fit under our seats to hide…my brother continued to look scared. And then my mother grabbed one of our blank sketch books we’d brought in to draw in to occupy ourselves, and tore out a bunch of pages, took our crayons and wrote out a giant letter per page so that when each page was put together, it would spell out, “I LOVE YOU KENNY”. My dad shook his head, “Rose, how are you going to put those up?” My mother started looking through her purse and pulled out a pack of gum. “Here kids. Chew it up real fast, and then put it on the back of the paper.” At this point she was so fan crazy we obeyed without a peep. Chew, chew, chew, put on the back of a letter, and then repeat. As each letter had a piece of gum on the back, she’d stick it on the concrete in front of our row until it was all lined up. When it was done, we all likely had developed TMJ and my mother started screaming and pointing at the sign.
“Here Kenny! LOOOOKKKKK! I LOVE YOU!!! I LOOOOOOVVVVVEEEE YOU!”
The concert couldn’t end fast enough. I think that night united us kids. I believe we all got along a little better the rest of the trip. We’d seen the horrors that we could drive my mother to in order to have a reprieve from our arguing. We can all laugh about it now, but whenever we’re asked, “What was your first concert?” our faces contort into pain when we recall our mother screaming that she wanted to have babies with Kenny Rogers. While all our friends get to claim cool shows as their first, there is some envy. I’ve even laughed when some people shamefully claimed people they now feel embarrassed about having seen because as soon as I tell them mine, they seem relieved at their first experience. I often tell people my first concert was Depeche Mode because while it was my second concert, it was the first one I wanted to see. However, as I get older I find a little more enjoyment that the three of us kids shared a night in Illinois watching my mother act like a nut, giving us all one really great story.
UPDATE - My brother just read this and reminded me that I forgot to mention that Kenny pointed at the sign and smiled. Okay, mom...you got your wish. Your child gum laborers gave you a moment with Kenny, and for that our TMJ is worth it.
