Red Rocks

I should have known we were in for an interesting night when I saw the racoon.  Inside the amphitheater.  He was a roly-poly guy.  Like he had been to one too many All You Can Eat Buffets combined with lacking that neuron in the brain that sends the message to the stomach that you are full.  He was maybe 3 feet from me as he ambled over to the trash can to help himself to that night’s dinner.

But that wasn’t even the surprising thing.  The surprising thing?  Watching the two police people who were standing right next to the trashcan not react in the least.  In fact, the racoon had to walk between the two of them to get to the trashcan.  He stood within inches of them as he helped himself to the goodies in the can. They looked down at him for like a second and just kept on talking.

Not the reaction most people would have to a wild animal that could do some serious harm to you if it was so inclined, not to mention life threatening harm, if you include the potential for transmitting rabies.

And even the concert-goers who were standing near the trashcan had no reaction.  Me? I immediately moved as far from it as I could and increased my walking pace up the stairs.  I have no idea where that raccoon went to next.  But I had put a good deal of distance between us, so I wasn’t too concerned.

I suppose I should have been relieved that the only wildlife we encountered in the arena, was an overstuffed raccoon, given that we had seen a video clip of an overstuffed bear meandering through the crowd there recently. 

Ok, with that behind me, we found our way to some seats about three-quarters of the way up and in the middle. 

Seeing a show at Red Rocks in CO has been on our bucket list for some time now. 

If you are not familiar with it, it is an open-air amphitheater that they built nearly 85 years ago.  Millions of years ago, during the Jurassic period, some rock formations developed creating a natural amphitheater.  The Denver Mayor and his Parks and Improvement Manager back in 1936 saw the opportunity to build an amphitheater into those formations.  They modeled it on an ancient Roman one.  It opened to the public in 1941.

The views from the amphitheater as you look out towards the horizon, with the Denver skyline visible, are amazing.  So are the acoustics.

Ernie asked me if I wanted to see Johnny Blue Skies and the Dark Clouds there. 

Me: Who is Johnny Blue Skies and the Dark Clouds?

Ernie: Sturgill Simpson. Jonny Blue Skies is another name he performs as, when he wants to do something creatively different from his usual stuff.

Me: Who is Sturgill Simpson?

With that, we listened to some of his music.  He’s kind of country, but also kind of rock.  A bit of a mixture.  I liked it enough to say, what the heck, let’s go. I figured it was less about the artist and more about the atmosphere and the overall experience.

That was mistake number one.

Ok, back to, we are in our seats, waiting for the show to start.  Of course, the day we go to a show there, there was a chance of rain and thunderstorms.  Denver has like 360 days of sunshine.  We got one of the 5 days it rains.

We were prepared though and put on our rain ponchos when a light rain started. No problem.

Lights come up, Johnny Blue Skies and the Dark Clouds take the stage.  The minute, and I mean the very minute, the chords from his guitar rang out, the weed lit up.  I felt like I was at a Grateful Dead show.  See my previous blog titled The Grateful Dead Paradox to see how I feel about that.  Or just keep reading here.

I do not understand how, in an open-air arena, one can still be overcome by the pot smoke. 

Fighting the contact high I was guessing I was getting judging by my feeling of lightheadedness, I shouldered on.

The rain started to pick up though.  There was a crash of thunder and a bright light.  Oh my, I thought.  Was that lightening?

Yes.  The answer was yes.  Mid-way through whatever song Sturgill was playing, he told us that they were told they had to stop playing and seek shelter.  He promised us he would be f*cking back. 

10,000 people then sat there, like, well, what do we do?

That’s when they flashed a message on the jumbo screen and announced that there were dangerous thunderstorms and that we were not safe in the arena and that we should seek shelter. 

More booming thunder and crackling lightening strikes surround us as this message is being delivered.

This is the point where you realize there are 2 kinds of people.  Those who leave and seek shelter (me), and those who think it’s no big deal and kind of cool to sit high up in an open-air amphitheater with zero protection and watch the lightning strikes (Ernie and the other couple, our friends, that we were with).  Or those who think, these are general admission seats and we may have to scramble to get good seats again if we leave.

I wasted zero time.  I immediately made a beeline for the Visitor Center. 

I took a look over my shoulder as I was leaving and saw Ernie and our friends not following me.  I did not have too much time to reflect on that point though, as I was much too focused on getting safely to the Visitor Center and wondered how crowded it would be in there.

Turns out that the Visitor Center can hold a lot of people. 

Ernie came by to check on me at one point.  I told him I was fine and that he did not have to stay with me and that I would rejoin them when the all clear was given.

An hour later, they gave the all clear and those of us that sought shelter returned to our seats.

Sturgill picked up exactly where had had left off mid-song. Returning to the stage he said he had finished off a whole bottle of Cabernet while it stormed and blamed the weather on the fact that it was the first time he was performing as Johnny Blue Skies and the Dark Clouds.

But the rain and the lightening continued.  The lightning was far away enough at that point that we could sit back and enjoy that show.

Because I wasn’t really enjoying Sturgill’s show.  Just like a Dead show, he was jamming.  A lot.  Just endless guitar playing, musical interludes, riffs, and such.  The only thing worse than jamming is space.  Another hallmark of a Dead show.  Me? I want to hear the song.  Play the song.  And play it normally. 

He also kind of mumbles when he sings, so it was hard to understand him. He would also tease you.  He’d start in with a song you knew, like Grateful Dead’s China Cat Sunflower, and you’d get excited to hear it, but then he’d morph it into some other song you didn’t know, after playing only a few bars of the song you wanted to hear.

And the pot smoking continued to waft around me. 

And after what had been a lull in the rain, it picked up again.  Stronger this time.

And the constant standing. No one sat. He played 30 plus songs for 3 hours and 15 minutes straight, no breaks, except for the storm delay.  And no one sat.

Couple this with the fact that I had sliced my finger while trying to open the aluminum can of water that I had bought, and then failed to seal it properly when I put it in my pocket under my rain poncho and it spilled out onto my coat and my pants and into my seat cushion.  I ended up with a very wet ass. And it was about 60 degrees or colder out. 

Cold, wet, bleeding, contact high, and hungry, I turned to Ernie and our friends and said, I am headed back to the Visitor Center.  Swing by and pick me up when the show is over.

And that was Night 1 of the 2-day concert.

The next day, I bailed on going to the 2nd night’s performance.  So did my one friend.  The boys went without us.

She and I had a nice dinner in a cool restaurant in Golden.  No raccoons in sight.  The only smell I was awash in was the aroma of delicious food cooking.  And we were dry and cozy while a light rain drizzled outside.

Like deciding to seek shelter in a storm, it was a no-brainer.