Number 4 – Attend an Allman Brothers Concert

Last Christmas morning, once all the presents were opened Cindy leaned over to me and said there was one other thing she intended to give me: Concert tickets to see a tribute concert at Atlanta’s Fabulous Fox Theater in January.  An all-star lineup would be taking the stage to sing the words and play the music of the legendary Gregg Allman, a unique one time only event.  However by the time Cindy called to purchase the tickets, the show had sold out.  Cindy felt bad about it, but I felt even worse because I know how much she loves the Allman Brothers and had yet to see them perform in concert.

So you can imagine my excitement when my sister called me right around New Year’s Day and asked if I’d be interested in getting a pair of tickets to All My Friends: Celebrating the Songs and Voice of Gregg Allman.  It just so happened that Tom, a friend of hers had a pair of tickets available.  At this point I was so excited about the prospect of getting the tickets I’m not exactly sure how Tom ended up having the  tickets available. Hope might have said he landed a backstage pass, was asked to play with the band or was heading off to astronaut school; I can’t say for sure because I wasn’t really listening.  All I heard was I might get my hands on a pair of tickets to see the Allman Brothers Band!

At Hope’s request Tom gave me a call.  Now get this: He was willing to sell the tickets to me at face value!  I thought to myself that Tom must be really excited about getting a backstage pass/playing with the band/the prospect of traveling to outer space (I really need to listen better).  Before I even put a check in the mail to pay for the tickets ($340 for the pair and before you even ask: Yes, that was face value) I had an Email from Tom with the tickets attached.  What a great, trusting guy!  If Tom didn’t live in Washington D.C./on a spaceship I imagine one day we could be the best of friends. 

On the night of the show we were hurrying along Peachtree Street to get to our seats by the advertised 7:30 p.m. start.  People everywhere were asking if anyone had tickets for sale.  It was all I could do to refrain from asking how much they were willing to pay, figuring I could come up with enough money for a 4X-HDTV if I ran into the right customer… or get arrested by an undercover policeman for scalping tickets because as you may already know karma hates me.

We get to our seats maybe five minutes early, giving us 35 minutes to dry off before the show finally gets underway around 8:00.  There isn’t a bad seat in the Fox (unless you end up sitting behind Alice the Goon or one of the Atlanta Hawks), but the instant the first note is played everyone in the house is standing and they’ll stay standing for the next three-and-a-half hours until the show is over.

Gregg Allman’s friends took the stage—one after another to sing and/or play with the talented session musicians on stage to perform some of the finest southern rock one could ever hope to hear.  Maybe four or five songs into the show the song No Way Out got things smoking.  No, I’m not referring to the music because the music had been smoking since the very first song.  I’m referring to smoking, as in*mari-jay-wanna.  It’s the first time I’ve caught a whiff of ‘the evil weed’ in a concert since the ‘70’s, a time when the deed with the weed warranted nothing more than a hand slap (from the law) or an a**-kicking (from your parents). 

*I trust this isn’t a news flash for the Fox Theater management.

The musicians throughout the tribute were amazing and it was evident they all wanted to be there.  The classiest comment I heard all night was from Trace Adkins. After singing I’m No Angel and Trouble No More he told the crowd: ‘This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my career.’  I’m no fan of country music by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m now a fan of Trace Adkins.

Some of my personal favorites of the night were Widespread Panic’s rendition of Just Ain’t Easy, Gregg Allman and Jackson Browne’s duet on Melissa, Eric Church’s performance of Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More, and every single note played by Allman Brothers Band guitarist Derek Trucks (that man can make a guitar cry for mercy).  For me the highlight of the night was the Allman Brothers performance of Whipping Post, a 20-minute extravaganza illustrating the musical talents of each member of the band. 

Other featured performers included former Allmans keyboardist Chuck Leavell (the girl sitting next to me said she shared a cab with him once) and Zac Brown (Cindy reminded Zac Brown came into her store one time and spent quite a bit of money).  I wanted to tell them both that I might possibly know one of the boys in the band (I couldn’t be certain Tom was up there because we’d never met in person and I had no idea what he looked like). 

Rounding out the talent was Sam Moore (of Sam & Dave), Dr. John, Pat Monahan (Train front man), John Hiatt, Taj Mahal, Martina McBride and Vince Gill.  (Speaking of Vince Gill, a woman I worked with in the ‘80’s had a crush on him, always commenting on how good he looked in a pair of tight jeans.  I imagine she might be surprised to see him now: His jeans were still tight, but the reasons were all wrong.)   There were a couple of other musicians but I missed their performances because Cindy sent me to the lobby to buy her a beer and apparently the people at the concession stands were feeling the affects of whatever was in the air (mari-jay-wanna) because I have never seen anyone stone cold sober take three minutes to pour a glass of beer from a tap or even longer to make a mixed drink.         

Towards the end of the night Gregg Allman was presented on stage with a pair of framed certificates for his life’s work. 

As for Cindy, who bought a copy of the Allman Brothers Band’s double album Eat a Peach the day it was released back in 1972: She finally got to see one of her favorite bands of all time.   

And me?  Well, I just might be friends with an astronaut.