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The night started out innocently enough. I got a text from a neighbor of mine asking me if I’d be interested in a seeing an outdoor concert near our apartment building. Hayes Carll and Carson McHone were set to perform, and although I had never heard of either I decided I’d go. The aforementioned concert is a monthly show that the city of Austin is generous enough to put on at a park with a huge lawn and plenty of room for the masses. I figured I’d haul four or five beers with me to this show and I’d be home at a reasonable hour.
In theory, it sounds like a blast, much going to a club or taking a hike should be fun. But it’s not, because, you know, you’re outside exposed to unpredictable elements with thousands of assholes. I can’t wear a tattered t-shirt perfect for bedtime and sweatpants to an outdoor concert. I have to be on. I have to be “sociable” and “nice.” As a person who genuinely enjoys a night where I see or talk to absolutely no one, attending this event was a colossal mistake.
I’ve been to plenty of outdoor concerts. I’ve seen Dave Matthews three times at the same venue in Michigan and every show has been fantastic. I watched Dispatch shred at Millennium Park a few years back in Chicago. I’ve even attended a jazz festival in my hometown with every act opting to perform outside. I’m no stranger to listening to music outdoors, and I enjoy it. But this night was different in that it wasn’t music I typically listen to.
For me, country music can be played from May to August and that’s pretty much it. I’ve never been a fan, as I tend to think that most of the songs all deal with pretty much the same subject matter. Somebody gets broken up with or a dog or family member dies and then the singer croons about drinking whiskey at some dilapidated bar. It’s got a time and a place, but that window (for me) is open for a very short period of time.
I accepted the invite, as it was an idle Wednesday and my other option was to lock myself in my bedroom with a bag of Cheez-Its and watch anywhere from 2 to 6 episodes of Seinfeld. But I figured I’d give it a shot. By the way, isn’t that the worst? When you say you’re going to give something a shot and then your worst imaginable fear happens and you regret everything?
Let me start out with the obvious here. It is hot as fuck in Austin, Texas right now. You can’t walk outdoors for more than a few minutes without breaking a sweat, and for a person like myself who had issues with sweating before moving here, you can imagine how haggard I looked by the time I set all of my shit down in a small grassy area with just enough room for me to sit down but not stretch my legs out.
Try and picture the scene. A free, outdoor concert held in a park near the University of Texas and minutes from downtown. You can’t get more hip, more free-range, more non-GMO–more Austin if you tried. A hipsters paradise. On this night, Austin was Bushwick on steroids. A place where weed was being passed around with reckless abandon. Butt cheeks hanging out of jean shorts (which was one of the few things I actually enjoyed about the event) were a dime a dozen. Dogs and pollen polluted every square inch of the park. Pabst Blue Ribbon and mustachioed men everywhere. I endured all of this despite puffy eyes and a sneezing fit that I couldn’t temper.
The seating arrangement? Less than ideal. As I mentioned before, every square inch of grassy space was occupied, and even if you did bring a blanket (which I did), I was still wearing sandals without socks, which meant walking around barefoot all night. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I wear socks with sandals around the office because my feet sweat, and I’d rather the sock soak up sweat than the footbed of my 150 dollar Birkenstocks.
It sounds contradictory to my most recent declaration, but it makes sense to me and at the end of the day that’s all that really matters. When my feet start sweating in a pair of leather Birkenstocks, the sole of the sandal begins to stink worse than any pair of Sperry’s you’ve ever had. “Blues On The Green” was the perfect storm of hot, muggy, and overpopulated. My feet hadn’t been that sweaty since the time I decided it would be a good idea to wear tennis shoes out to a bar in Mexico three years ago. In short, my feet were dirty, sweaty, and appallingly pungeant by the time the show ended at 10:00 PM.
And that’s not even the worst part. Oh, no. By far the worst part of this entire experience was the fact that I had to make small talk. Like the smallest of small talk. It had been hinted upon my acceptance of an invitation that there would be several girls joining us, but when I got to my seat in the grass I was only met with less than firm handshakes from five or six dudes. Listen, these guys were all nice enough. Good people with good intentions. But with all due respect to them, I would have stayed home had I known that this would be the company I had to spend two and half hours with.
If I’m stepping out on a goddamn Wednesday night when eight hours of sleep is a necessity, it needs to be worth my time. And by worth my time I mean there better be some talent there. Could I have gotten up from the spot where my ass was going numb and talked to one of the thousands of hot girls that were there? Of course. But I got the vibe from “Blues On The Green” that this was a place where couples or large groups of friends went. Sort of like how it’s inappropriate to hit on girls at the gym, I felt this was equally as inappropriate a place to try and pick up a stranger. It may not be a correct assumption, but that’s the vibe I got and it’s too late to go back and do it over again.
The outdoors are great. For some people. I am not some people. Unless this event happens next month on a weekend, you will not catch me at “Blues On The Green.” I’ll take a box of Cheez-its in a clean bed over dirty feet, hipsters, and subpar country music every time. Good effort, good try, City of Austin. Despite your best intentions, the hate train continues to roll on. If anyone wants to hop on board you’re more than welcome. If not, enjoy your hippy-dippy outdoor concerts. I’ll be inside if you need me..
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
Johnny, how much Addy are they having you rail at Grandex HQ? You’re a content machine this week.
Made the same mistake last year, John. Blues On The Green is great in theory but a truly awful experience. Gotta go for the sunset Instagram and immediately leave after you get it.
Really every social gathering is great in theory. But then you realize other people are going to be there.
Do it for the ‘gram.
“I’ve seen Dave Matthews three times”
I’m shocked
You’ve changed Johnny. Hayes Carll is not by any means subpar. Take a note from Chill DeFries book and relax.
JDuda – care to address your opinion of the actual music?
Not my cup of tea.
Yeah, sorry we couldn’t get Dispatch for you, but they’re dead.
Story Idea: Goto Boudin Creek Cafe, don’t look it up first, just go and report back.
Fair Bean is worse.
Counter Culture may be the worst.
Not wanting assholes to graffiti your bathroom is bad?
No, but feeling the need to point out that your bathroom doesn’t have a gender role pretty much sums up the atmosphere.
Did it have men’s and women’s rooms before and announced a change? Or just one shitter and they felt the need to advertise how tolerant they are? If it’s the latter, fuck ’em.
Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things?
The Chase may be more successful if you opened up to country music. I’ve met few girls in my life that don’t enjoy it.
Summer outdoor concerts in Texas are a prime example of expectation management. If you go in knowing for a fact that you’ll leave with sweat coating whatever poor excuse for a shirt you decide to bring out, and you do your best to constantly be drinking, then you’ll have a lot better time. If you expect to be comfortable outside in Texas, you’re gonna have a bad time.
You’re like a walking anti-advertisement for Austin. Nothing wrong with that, but after reading an Austin based article of yours, I would rather go play in traffic than visit Austin.
JD’s main complaint is that its hot and hippy-infested. I thought this was common knowledge?
Breaking news, it’s hot as balls during the summer in Texas
He’s just being a pussy. It’s hot as fuck here, but the only person with a problem being outdoors is him.
So are you
OK.
You actually CAN pay to play in traffic in Austin.
You always pay to play in traffic there; everything is becoming a tollway.
There are few, if any, redeeming qualities to make up for the laundry list of cons this blind spot in God’s field of vision puts forth. You’d be doing yourself a favor to avoid.
“I’ll take a box of Cheez-its in a clean bed over dirty feet, hipsters, and subpar country music every time.” Amen brother.
Dont wear shoes with leather sole in texas heat….JD feel bad for ya August and September the heat only gets worse. Though you havent discovered tubing down the guadalupe or san marcos river yet and all them T State girls. Hit up the hill country, hit up LBJ lake, hit some BBQ spots along the way. Pound some Lone Stars or Shiners and build a tolerance to country music cause theres not many women in texas that dont at least somewhat enjoy it.
All of those things are terrible, there isn’t air conditioning.
If you don’t like the heat or just want to keep ripping Austin move away we already have enough people here.