James Taylor is coming to Wolf Mountain.
And I'm not.This is a drastic decision, but I'll try to cope. While JT is playing at Wolf Mountain on June 28, I'll be at home, maybe listening to "Carolina In My Mind" on CD. But I will miss the fistfights and the Gestapo ushers.
Let me begin by saying that I am a fan of James Taylor, but only to the degree that Rush Limbaugh is conservative. On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd rate JT about a 15.
I have been a JT devotee for 25 years. I have listened to JT through records, eight-tracks, cassettes and CDs, through disco, new age, rap and the stuff that passes for country these days.
I own every recording JT ever made. I serenade my children to sleep each night with my guitar and his songs. I own two videos of his concerts.
As JT fans go, I have serious and more famous rivals in Jay Leno, Harrison Ford and Garth Brooks, but I am their match. Brooks named his son Taylor; I named my daughter Carly.
I would rather watch James Taylor than the Super Bowl or the NBA Finals. It isn't even close. I have seen JT perform in a half-dozen cities, from Maryland to Phoenix. I would go almost anywhere to see him play.
Well, except for Wolf Mountain.
If the Beatles started their comeback at Wolf Mountain - WITH John - I would pass.
Outdoor concerts are a nice idea, but only in theory. Something happens to people when they move from an indoor arena to the open air. Suddenly, music isn't enough; they want to PAR-tee and consume large quantities of beer and talk and visit restrooms.
Wolf Mountain is bad even by outdoor concert standards. Several years ago, James Taylor's scheduled concert at Wolf Mountain was snowed out, and he was forced to play in the Delta Center. It was an exceptional night of music. A couple of years ago, JT was again scheduled for Wolf Mountain. Unfortunately, this time he actually played at Wolf Mountain. No snow.
Things I learned that day:
- Be prepared for a hike from your car to the actual concert arena up on the mountain. By this, I mean bring a backpack and a canteen. Pack a lunch. Get a physical.
- Bring a book. A big book. "War and Peace" comes to mind. For the parking lot.
- Be prepared for a bovine experience. You'll be herded up the mountain, gathered in roped chutes and possibly branded once you've been searched and interrogated at the gate. After the show, you'll be stampeded out of the arena down the mountain - mooooo - kicking up clouds of dust as you head to the parking lot. It's a lot like running with the bulls in Pamplona.
- The ushers and parking attendants are not on leashes. But they should be. Most of them got up on the wrong side of life. They are former hall monitors.
- If you don't have a reserved seat - and chances are you won't, and you'll sit high on the mountainside - bring the Hubble space telescope.
- A reserved seat does not guarantee that you'll actually SEE or HEAR the concert. But there are sideshows. I got lucky and had a close view of a fistfight in the crowd. I caught glimpses of JT through the lines of people making their way to get more beer, which, as near as I could tell, converts to about two trips to the bathroom per cup. A concert is an aerobic exercise for many.
Or a chance to visit. A lot of the same people who go to movie theaters to talk showed up for the concert to continue the discussion they began at the theater. At one point, I turned to find the source of a loud discussion behind our seats, only to discover it was a pair of Wolf Mountain ushers. I can't repeat what they said when I asked them to be quiet. But I did learn that one of them was having girl trouble.
Rumor has it that JT was in good form that night, but I wouldn't know.
There is one more valuable thing I learned that night, and it's the most important thing: Just stay home.
I won't be back until JT's indoors.