care

We went to see Kid Rock on Saturday night. Total last-minute thing but I love Kid Rock. Like love, love. His songs have been Lake Powell soundtracks for years and you just don't get over that stuff.

In a little drama moment, my online ticket purchase transaction did not go through so at the last minute we ended up in a parking lot at a seedy truck stop meeting someone named CannedAss (Candace. Get it?) to exchange 250 bucks for 5 general admission tickets. Felt like a drug deal. Seriously.

So we get to the concert at Saltair and it's...insane. Packed. People were angry and pushing, probably trying to get to the bar. And then we went downstairs to actually "see" the concert and dance and it was a little the same but also amazing.

Obviously love hearing my favorite songs....Cowboy, All Summer Long and, of course, Bawitdaba. I don't even know what that means but I love it. But even better, I love the whole concept of this tour.

Just before the main song, "Care," Kid (we're apparently on a first name basis) said "We're here to appreciate the love of music, not the money.

So we're giving most of the money from this tour to charities in every city, because that's how we do it in Detroit. We take care of our own. We are not left or right, us or them. We are Americans and we are in this together. And we may not be able to do everything we want to make everyone good but the least we can do is...care. So dance and sing and share what you can. And care. Just care." I'm sure I didn't get it exactly right but the sentiment is dead on. And that's pretty cool. Especially for a white cowboy rapper type from Detroit (is that even a thing?) who is oddly sexy if not traditionally hot (hey, how many of you have been married to Pam Anderson? Shut it!), borderline talented (I'm channeling that from the internet buzz because I think he's amazing and I'm tone deaf), and uber-wealthy but eager to share as much of his earnings as possible.

It made me think. And care. There was a woman in the bathroom trying to get her friend to the front of the line because she was going to puke. Nice try. I was cranky and waiting in line when I really, really had to pee and I was not very charitable. Sure, I let her cut but I was not happy about it. As I was leaving the bathroom I noticed a red-headed young woman janitor cleaning up puke and paper and crap. And I thought about how horrible her job was but she would do anything to get money to feed her kids, keep a roof over their heads, whatever. So I tipped her every cent I had in my pocket, which was about 20 bucks. And I swear, when I looked back she had tears in her eyes. I'm guessing she wasn't weepy about the money, I'm sure, but because somebody cared. And they didn't care about where they were in the beer line, or who pushed by them to get to the front or the back of the concert, or whether they could see from where they were, but because somebody cared about the people who made a night of fun and enjoyment happen.

And that is what it's all about, right? Caring. Sharing. Dancing. Singing. Living. Loving.

Never thought I'd have that epiphany at a Kid Rock concert. Very grateful that I did.