The best day, part 2

Statistically speaking, there is less than a 1 percent chance that you will get a meet and greet at a show. 

There were about 25 people in the meet and greet line, and the venue in Milwaukee holds 23,000 people.

That’s a .1 percent chance of it happening. 

It hit me as I was waiting for M&G while lines and lines of people kept piling into the amphitheater. 

There were so many people walking by us.

I cried five times before the show while driving to Milwaukee, just thinking about it. 

And then it happens, it lasts a brief moment, and then it becomes a memory burned in your mind forever. 

If you’re in this for the best seat, front row at every show, or for his autograph then you’re in it for the wrong reasons. (I’ve had some of those, by the way.)

It’s about the journey getting there and the person or people beside you. 

The journey for me was rough. It’s been eight years since I’ve been a fan, and I’ve gone through a lot since then.

I won’t whine in this here blog post, but it’s safe to say that I’ve had to change every single thing about my life just to survive.

And then one day you’re just surviving and then you’re thriving. And then surviving again, and then hey, there’s our buddy thriving, then surviving and the cycle never ends.

So yes, this is about a picture and three words I said to my favorite artist ever. But it’s also about a lot of other things. 

About traveling, about living and running with anxiety and depression and learning to not let those things run you, about being alone, about being okay with being alone, and learning how to live, love, and make yourself happy.

It’s also hearing a love song that reminds you of someone and not hating the memory of it anymore. And it’s about being okay when a potential plus one doesn’t want to be a plus one. 

Both of those things are fine. 

I stood in the pit after our meet and greet and I looked at all the people around me, from the person standing beside me to the people in the very top seats. I thought about all of the things and then it finally happened.

I cried.

It’s a concert, but it’s so much more. It’s a picture, but it’s so much more. It’s music, but it’s so much more. 

And sometimes it hits you how really lucky you are, and you just cry. Thursday night was my night. 

It might not mean much to you, but it does to me. 

—

I showed this picture to probably a dozen people today. They all did the same exact thing - they zoomed in on Eric really close. 

🤣

One person put it best on what I’ve been up to this week: “You were chasing a dream.”

That dream came true. 

😎

Thank you, Eric Church. Well, hi and then thank you. 

The best day

I don’t know where to start this story. 

I could start with Nashville a couple weeks ago. I could start tonight, at 1:06 a.m., after I just met the person I’ve admired for the past eight years and saw him in concert for the 18th time. 

Or I could start the story years ago, after I heard the song Record Year for the first time. 

That song is a break up song that saved me and healed me. 

Let’s start with tonight.

So what do you say to your idol, the one whose music you love more than life itself, when you finally meet him?

It turns out, you don’t say much if you’re me.

It was quick.

He was late. We stood in line for about an hour, then they took us back. We waited and waited, and talked to one of his employees.

Someone asked the employee if he knew Eric.

Employee’s response: He’s my boss. Do you know your boss?

(I laughed. That’s my kind of humor.)

So there’s a lot of waiting and a lot of anticipation. And then walks up this normal looking dude in jeans, a black T-shirt and sunglasses, and he walks right past me.

We cheered.

And then it’s time for the meet and greet. You meet, you greet, you get a photo taken and then it’s over in the blink of an eye. 

I don’t remember seeing the photographer take the photo. 

All I could say was “Hi.”

He said “Hi” back.

He put his arm around me.

I said “Thank you” after the photo.

He said “Thank you” back to me. 

The thing is, that was a loaded “hi” and “thank you.” It was a “hi thank you for making music that changed my life and saved me more times then I can count” kind of a hi and thank you.

Do we think he knows that?

I’m pretty sure he does. I don’t think we have to tell him.  

The thing is, sometimes quiet wins.

I’m proud of myself for saying three words to him. I didn’t think I could get those out. 

Afterwards, I looked at the packed crowd and I cried.

There were 23,000 people in that audience, and I had some people question the M&G sticker on my leg and the autograph in my hands before the show started.

They gave me the look. The look! And then asked to see my autograph. 

And then someone spilled beer on my shoe.

I met Eric Church, I cried, and then I wondered if the beer smell would ever come out of my shoes.

Hi, thank you.

It was the best day ever. 

Great love