We have lived in Richmond for exactly six years and two weeks.  In all of this time I have never gotten to experience Innsbrook After Hours, an outside concert venue which brings in bands or singers we all recognize but are no longer chart toppers.  Hootie and the Blowfish were there a couple of years ago.  The Legwarmers have performed at Innsbrook.  And last night’s performer was the Charlie Daniels Band with a little “Devil Went Down to Georgia.”

We live less than a mile from this venue and have never taken the time to go to any of the concerts and all I have to say is “HOLY COW!”  What an experience!

Charlie Daniels was damn good.  He’s 75 and he’s up there on stage playing that fiddle like nobody’s business!!  He was crazy good and more fun than you can shake a stick at!

For me, though, the best part of the whole night were the other people, the concertgoers, the tried and true Charlie Daniels fans.  I’m a fan but truthfully, the only song of his I know is the one I said above…”Devil went down to Georgia.”  So most of my night was focused on the people.

I didn’t have my phone or a camera so I’ll paint the picture as best as I can with words…

I’ll start with the opening band and it’s loyal fans.  “Rosie” was the name and classic rock was their game.  The “Rosie” fans were still rooted to their spots as Charlie Daniels and his band took the stage.  I walked a little to the side and front of where Stan and our friends, Terri and Tim, were standing so I could get a better view of the spunky leader of the band.  As I left Stan, Terri and Tim, I walked right into the middle of some “Rosie” groupies.

An interesting bunch…

There was the taller, big lady with glasses, tight jeans, a black, Rosie t-shirt and straggly, bleach-blond hair.  There was the nondescript woman in the middle.  And then there was “Pat.”…  You remember Pat from Saturday Night Live..this was “Pat” live and in the flesh.  Completely androgynous…no way to tell gender ~ not one single way.  Short cropped blondish hair, big baggy t-shirt, baggy jeans, round glasses, no make-up.  “Pat” was heavy-set so there was little chance to tell one way or another about boobs…couldn’t tell if they were man-boobs or real boobs.  But “Pat” was having fun, dancing, hooting and hollering to the music.  “Pat” was fun to watch…and then “Pat” asked me to dance.  

Hmmmmmmmm…..I’m wondering if I should be scared at this point. I didn’t have an escape plan.  “Pat” held out it’s arms to me and beckoned me in.  Stan was 25 feet away with our friends.  I danced with “Pat.”  Interesting.  I strained to get a lock on Stan, asking him with my eyes for a little help.  “Pat” was having a blast so I joined in the fun a little…but I was still trying to get a little help from Stan and form an escape plan if things got to be a little too much.  Luckily, the song ended and “Pat” and the “Rosie” groupies dispersed.  Scariness averted!

After “Pat” left a number of people started coming up to me and asking me if I was there alone.  Poor, little, ol’ me, looking like I was sad and pathetic at a concert alone.  I was rescued, finally.  

Everybody came and joined me where I stood with a great view of the stage.  But the fun didn’t end with Stan, Terri and Tim joining me.  Nope…it just kept going…

With the “Rosie” groupies gone, the die hard Charlie Daniels fans took their places.  These are the ones who know all the words to all of the songs, dancing around and carrying on like nobody’s business.  They were fun to watch as they danced, interacted with one another, took picture after picture of each other and enjoyed the music.

I watched as one of the guys in the group tried to take a picture of the ladies.  He had his friend’s iPhone and evidently, he had never used one before.  He had the screen pointing at the ladies and he struggled hard to figure out how to take the damn picture.  I couldn’t stand to see him struggle so I went and hit the picture icon for him ~ freezing the moment on camera for the party-goers to enjoy for all eternity.  From that moment on I became their “Nots-arazzo”…that’s the paparazzo for us regular folks.  I took countless pictures of them in a wide variety of poses and smiles and configurations of friends.  I made new friends.  I couldn’t tell you one of their real names but we did have quite a fun time making up names for this group.  And boy, oh boy were they an interesting group… 

There was “Orangie.”  The six foot tall woman with long fried, “blond” hair, make-up-o-plenty, skin-tight jeans, a black leather vest, a tight orange t-shirt and a matching orange bandana tied “Karate Kid” style around her head.  She was sweet and friendly and presented quite the image.  

There was the woman who didn’t get a true name from but whose “posterior equity” is seared into my brain.  She had on beyond skin-tight, aqua jeans circa 1984, with the waist coming all the way up to her actual waist and the pockets resting on top of her ample ass.  She had quite the badonkadonk.  At one point, the question was asked why Terri and I didn’t have jeans like that.  Hmmmmm???  I can’t even guess why we don’t!  

“Cheesy 70’s porn star”, you know the guy who sports the lame 70’s ‘stasche and looks a little greasy and sleazy, came looking for me to take pictures many times.  Cheesy 70’s porn star liked his ladies and loved his photo ops with them.  At one point he came running over to me to show a picture he had taken of the butts of other concert goers…he thought that was hysterical.  

There were many others but the one who takes the cake is “Dog.”  His hips were positioned right behind his date’s back side and he slammed them into her repeatedly to the beat of the “The Devil Went Down to Georgia, ” just like you would imagine a stud dog doing to his mate.  Hence the name “Dog.”  His hands were on her boobs, massaging and massaging, the entire time he was emulating said dog.  It was quite a spectacle, let me tell ya!  Luckily, I didn’t befriend that one.  

As far as I’m concerned the evening was a wild success.  I had a complete ball watching and watching and watching the craziness of the night.  Oh, and Charlie Daniels was good too!

We came home, laughing about the events of the evening and my new found friends.  I’m not sure what it is about me that drew all of these characters to me, maybe it was my willingness to be their own personal “Nots-arazzo” or the fact that I (mainly) laughed with them and not at them.  But it was quite the experience ~ one I won’t soon forget and wouldn’t change for the world!

The fun continued as we told the kids the crazy stories of those we met at our evening at Innsbrook.  I’m pretty sure they thought we were just a little crazy in our story telling but I told my part like I remembered it.  I know they all wish they could have gone.  Maybe  next time we’ll take the kids.  I just hope we don’t run into “Dog” again.  I’d like to keep any concert experience PG for the kids so they don’t come away from there saying “HOLY COW!”

Oh, for the love of my children….

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