As you might have noticed from the sidebar to your left, I have a lot of concerts lined up this summer. Most of the concerts we're going to are part of a Country Mega Ticket deal that Jon bought me for Valentine's Day, but the Jimmy Buffett, Great Southern and UB40 concerts are all concerts that we otherwise wanted to attend.
Last night, I made the drive up to Annapolis through rush hour DC traffic to see Dickey Betts and Great Southern play. No idea who Dickey Betts and his band Great Southern are? Don't worry, I didn't know either until my Dad filled me in! Dickey Betts is one of the founding members of The Allman Brothers Band and wrote a little hit called "Ramblin' Man", among many others, that you might be familiar with. (cue the a-ha's here) He got kicked out of the Allman Brothers (supposedly for substance abuse) and formed his own band, Great Southern. You're probably wondering why I would go to a concert if I didn't even know who it was until my Dad told me.
See, that's just it. It was for my Dad. I got an excited e-mail from him months ago saying that he was able to snag the last few seats for this concert (which sold out in less than an hour) and he wanted all of us, me, Jon, my Mom and sister, to go. Every time he's talked about the concert since, he mentions the story of how he got to see the Allman Brothers play live with the Grateful Dead in New York in 1974 and how it was one of the most amazing concerts he's ever been to. I honestly think it's one of my Dad's all-time favorite memories. He would have been 20 years old then and stationed up at West Point. He had been drafted for Vietnam and was one of the fortunate few who was stationed stateside. How fortunate? A through M of his platoon was sent to Vietnam and N through Z was sent to become Military Police at West Point. Our last name is Sloan. That concert must have been a very bright light in his life in the midst of some very dark moments.
As I've gotten older, I've really started to notice the similiaraties between my Dad and I. We're both meticulous list-makers, with a unhealthy love for the History Channel, but we certainly have our wild side. He surprised all of my girlfriends at Ring Dance when he stayed out on the dance floor all night and danced just as low as any of us! (My Mom is still shocked that he didn't split his tux!) More than anything though, I definitely got my love of music from my Dad. The way I saw his face light up at the concert last night is the same way my own face lights up when I'm moved by a good song. As the first few licks of guitar moved through the air, he turned to me and pointed to the goosebumps on his arms. Sure enough, I had them too.
I watched my Dad almost as much as I watched the band. It was so compelling to see him through adult eyes and watch him relive the music of his youth, of his generation, nodding his head and drumming his fingers and singing out loud without a care in the world. It's a memory I know I'll always cherish because I get it. I get that love of music so deep that you can't help but feel it course through your body and in your bones. I get the euphoria that washes over you because at that moment when the notes hit, you are so joyful, the world is so joyful and you can't imagine ever having heard anything more beautiful. And I love him for it because he gave all of that love and joy and euphoria to me.
I know I already said it on Sunday, but Happy Father's Day, Dad. My favorite hon.
Click here for my Father's Day message to my Dad, filmed at Honfest in lovely Bawlmer (Baltimore for those not in the know) on Sunday. My message is the very last one and starts at 12:40 minutes. And lord yes, I know I blink a lot in the video. I was nervous! And I was on my second beer! (Which the anchor lady plucked from my hands before I went on and said, "We can't have that on camera, dear!")
