Okay, you all know I went to Austin City Limits Moody Theater last Wednesday night to see Trisha Yearwood.
A funny thing happened on the way to the show…
Midway up the long flight of outdoor stairs to the entrance, men were stopped to be checked for weapons. At the top of the stairs the women’s purses were checked. The pleasant woman (she said she loved my boots) saw my camera and said, “You can’t bring that in here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
(I had just tried to take a picture of Willie Nelson, but that hadn’t worked out. Too many people were posing with him and I couldn’t get a clear shot.)
“Where’s your car? Is it far away? Can you go back and put this in your car?”
“My son dropped me off. There’s no way I can get him to come back. Can you just check it?”
“We don’t like to do that.” She looked very sad. “But I’ll get my supervisor.”
I waited for long moments until the supervisor appeared. He looked like a happy guy and studied the camera in my purse.
“Why don’t I just take the battery out and you can hold onto that?” was my suggestion. (Believe it or not, I wasn’t the least bit concerned. What could possibly stop me from finally seeing Trisha Yearwood in person??? Nothing.)
He smiled at me and said, “Tell you what. Why don’t you keep the battery and keep the camera in your purse? Just promise you won’t take it out.”
He obviously recognized a vintage non-rule-breaker when he saw one. Maybe it was the white hair.
I went inside, showed my ticket, made my way around those thirsty Texans crowding around the bars and was led to my sixth-row seat. The show wouldn’t start for another thirty-five minutes, so I had plenty of time to people-watch. To the left of me was a gay couple taking pictures with their phones. To the right of me was a 40-something woman taking pictures with her phone and alternately playing Candy Crush.
In front of me were four young woman taking selfies with their phones. Behind me were six 50-something girlfriends from Fort Worth who were taking pictures with their phones and sharing hilarious stories of life and work in Texas.
An announcement came over the speakers: no recording devices and absolutely no photos are permitted or you will be escorted out of the building.
My dangerous, illegal camera was zipped into my purse, which was tucked under my seat. I would not be escorted out of the building, but I wondered about the hundreds of cell phone owners surrounding me. If all of these cell phone owners were escorted out of the building, I’d have a shot at a front row seat.
And then the room darkened and Trisha Yearwood walked across the stage. All around me phones were lifted into the air. Trisha waved and looked accustomed to that kind of attention. There were times when she held still for the
cameras phones and said, “Make it a good one!”
I couldn’t stop laughing. I’m sure I looked like the happiest fan in Row 6, but every time the oh-so-many phones took pictures it struck me funny.
And though I had many, many opportunities to take a picture of Trisha when she stood and sang directly in front of me, I kept my camera in my purse.
I had promised, you see. And when I make a promise, I keep it.
But that didn’t stop me from wishing I had a Smart Phone. Just for one night.
So I wouldn’t be escorted from the building.