I'm having a record year.

The Gather Again Tour ended last night in New York City.

After every tour, I set a goal for the next one. In 2017, I wanted to go to Nashville. In 2019, I went. In 2019, I wanted Washington D.C., after talking to fans and having many, many of them tell me that I should go check out The Anthem if I was ever able to get there.

In December 2021, I went, by myself. 

I drove to the Kansas City airport, and almost chickened out when I hit the parking lot. I figured I could go back to my little town, hide out for a few days, and just lie and tell people I went.

I did not chicken out, though. 

I planned that trip pretty carefully, more carefully than I've planned any trip before. Flying across the country alone requires some advance thought, like not drinking much and being able to keep yourself alive through it.

I did drink, and I do not regret it.

I loved D.C. I love that I went by myself, I love that I walked around the listened to music, and I love that I saw that beautiful city in December, my favorite month of the year. 

--

The first show post-pandemic was in Durant, Oklahoma, in June 2021. 

I was supposed to buy a house that morning. I arranged dog care, and figured I'd sign the paperwork and be out of town at noon.

Life did not work out that way. 

I got to Durant at 8:25 p.m., and the first show in 18 months started at 8:30 p.m.

What followed that day was probably one of the worst things that happened to me, but what also followed those days were eight more concerts, seven of which were Eric Church shows. 

There's good and bad in life, and sometimes, you get to experience both of those things at the same time.

Wyoming was next on the concert list, two weeks after I injured my knee and could barely walk.

I stood in the pit line, in excruciating pain, all right, and then hobbled back to my car afterward. There was a new statue at Cheyenne Frontier Days of Chris LeDoux, a man I loved since my childhood.

I did not go see it, because I couldn't walk that far. 

I bought these tickets before my knee injury and before I got really sick. I wasn't even sure going to the rest of the shows was doable for me.

We worked through it, my body and I, along with doctors and a surgeon and other people, too. 

Not traveling is not an option in my world.

--

And then there's Denver, where Monica from Kansas and Ashley from Church happened.

All I wanted at that show was someone to share this with. A friend, family member, lover, whatever. I would have been happy if anyone had been by my side.

It turns out that you can let new people in to experience that.

Denver was the first time that I experienced the front row and waiting outside in the pit line. They were my people. 

And then there's D.C. 

Do we even need to talk about how much I loved D.C.? No, I think my love for that city speaks for itself. 

And then there's Kansas City, the best show of the tour, and Tulsa and then St. Louis. 

It was a record year.

--

Traveling sometimes comes with perils.

I hit a pothole in Missouri that led to two new tires. I smoked my brakes in Colorado and had to get them replaced, which was the first time that's ever happened to me — usually I get them replace a couple of weeks after I return to Kansas.

Oops.

It turns out that what I spent the last year doing now has a name — revenge travel.

From this website: "With these travel thoughts come extensive price tags as well as stacked vacations, as 2021 might just be the year where travelers extend their time away from home by one, two, or even three weeks or more as they get 'revenge' on all the ways that 2020 stripped them of a normal vacation."

Not only did 2020 strip me of a normal vacation, it stripped me of everything, ever. Don't even get me started of everything I lost because of 2020. 

(I lost everything I didn't need.)

Revenge travel is a thing, and I did it eight times in the past 11 months.

So here we are, halfway through 2022. We're starting over. Why am I starting over at 37 years old?

Because shit happens and sometimes you have to move, change, start over and move on, all at once.

Change is hard, but it's easier and better than staying where you're at.

--

Jojo deserves her own photo. 💛

The Gather Again Tour was about healing. It was also about letting go, moving on, meeting new people and experiencing new places. 

It was early morning airport visits, prioritizing myself, drinking with newfound friends, seeing new things and sitting on a rooftop bar in a huge city drinking with those newfound friends.

And sitting on a park bench in D.C., listening to the 10 minute version of All Too Well and deleting the past.

It's gone.

In a word, the Gather Again Tour was perfect.

Perfect.

--

My goal for the next tour is New York City. 

Washington, D.C. was a test to see if I could do a big city by myself. 

I nailed it.

Eventually, I'll get to NYC, a place I dreamed about my whole life and wanted to live in very much when I was younger. 

I know it's possible, and I'll get there, eventually. 

I always do.

I'm having a record year.

I was meant for someone.

I feel like I should write one more blog post on the Denver concert. 

I've had pit tickets for festival shows before, but never a full tour show. Ashley from Church (read previous blog post) told me I was in for a treat when I told her this.

Usually, during his concerts, Eric gives fans a break between sets. We get a 20-minute intermission to use the restroom, buy a drink, or take a seat (if you have seat tickets).

In Denver, he did not give us an intermission. At one point, he told the crowd that they blew right through intermission and decided to keep playing.

I heard a guy in the pit behind me yell: "Oh my God, he's not going to give us a break, is he? He's going to kill us!"

I've said this several times, but that day was probably the best day of my life.

It's incredible to see a concert that close. I have no idea how many people that place holds, but a quick Google search suggestions it can hold up to 20,000 people for concerts.

Bring front row with 20,000 people around you is not a bad way to spend a Friday night.

I'm going to phrase the next sentence very carefully, and I'm going to apply it to all members of the band, including men and women. Here's the sentence: It's incredible to see how music impacts their entire body.

Head to toe, from the main singer to the back up singer to all of the guitar players, they all drip music from head to toe. And the thing is, it's obvious when you're that close to them.

Some people play music. Some people are music. 

These people are music. 

---

I don't know what else to say, other than it was perfection from start to finish.

My favorite moment, other than holding hands and crying with a total stranger, came when EC started playing a song called Mistress Named Music right in front of us.

The Mistress moment is my favorite part of every concert (doesn't happen at every show, so it's a treat when it does happen). During that song, he goes off and chases different songs, meaning he plays a few cover songs, and then goes back to Mistress Named Music at the end.

In Denver, he did a Brooks and Dunn song, the Luckenbach, Texas song, some Travis Tritt, I Feel Like Makin' Love, Stand By Me, and my personal favorite, a Jason Isbell song called Cover Me Up (Morgan Wallen also did a damn good job on that song).

Um, that's one of my favorite Jason Isbell songs. And my favorite artist sang it right in front of me, probably like seven feet away from me? 

It was perfect. 

The lyrics that choked me up during that song live: I was meant for someone.

I needed that moment in my life, at that specific moment in my life.

It was perfect.

---

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun you can't trust anyone

I was so sure what I needed was more tried to shoot out the sun

Days when we raged, we flew off the page such damage was done

But I made it through, cause somebody knew I was meant for someone

So girl, leave your boots by the bed we ain't leaving this room

Till someone needs medical help or the magnolias bloom

It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood

So cover me up and know you're enough to use me for good

 

Monica from Kansas

I cried several times during the concert in Denver last weekend, out of happiness. 

The thing about the last two or three years of my life is that there's been a lot of pain in it. Life is not always pretty. 

I made it a point to look at everyone around me during the show last weekend. I watched people's faces when Eric Church, or one of his guitar players, came near us. The look on everyone's faces was a look of pure love.

I looked around this big, dark room full of lovely people, and I thought that it's nice to know that a beautiful moment can come from such a painful time in my life.

If you don't know this about me, here's a little synopsis of my life: I should have someone to share my life with, but I don't. Until the day that day happens, I do things alone. I'm not a person who will stay home just because I have no one to go to a concert with. 

Every single person in Denver told me I was amazing for going to concerts alone. I was amazed at how well I was treated.

That's the cool thing about this particular fanbase...we're all a bunch of weirdos who love each other.

To make a long story short, I had a pit ticket for the show, and I got in line early to get a good seat. This introvert had no intention of being outgoing that day, and I just wanted to keep to myself until the show started.

That plan lasted about two seconds with the crowd in front of me.

"Short girl. Hey, short girl. Why are you not talking? Come over here and talk to us."

I heard them talking about a few things, so I brought those things up. It turns out, this crowd was kind of cool. They figured out that although I'm not from Colorado, I can speak Colorado pretty well.

My best friend lived in Denver for a while. I've been to Nugget and Broncos games. I have family in the mountains. I grew up camping in Colorado.

I impressed the group of people around me. I can talk the Colorado talk and walk the Colorado walk.

We moved on to talking about other topics. They wanted to know how long I'd been a fan and how many shows I've been to. 

I am not an OG fan (original fan). I came around in 2015. I'm a late bloomer. I fessed up to how many concerts I've been to (11 in four years), and I heard a guy talk towards the front of the line.

"Guys, she's been to 11 concerts in four years?" he said. "She's doing pretty good."

He continued: "I think she might be one of us. I think we should adopt her."

It turns out that the people who were waiting outside in the pit line, hours before the show started, are the fans that have been there since the beginning of Eric Church's career. 

Before each of his concerts in Denver, they have a tradition. They get together, drink a bunch of beer, listen to music outside the venue, and enjoy each other before each Eric Church concert in their city. 

I got to hear stories from way back in the beginning, which is pretty cool. I heard stories from the Grizzly Rose days, a bar he used to play before he had a wild amount of success.

Those original fans are the coolest people I've ever met.

---

For reasons I won't get into, I got separated from my friend group as we got inside the arena. I was maybe 30 people behind my people in line, as we waited for the doors to the stage area to be opened. 

I was kind of mad about being so far back in line, but figured I could still get a good spot by the stage. I was playing on my phone, not paying attention to anything.

A few minutes later, I thought I heard my name. I looked up, away from my phone, and I heard my name over and over.

When I realized what was happening, my heart melted into a big pile of goo all over my adorable shoes.

My friend group at the front of the line realized I wasn't with them. They were looking for me. They told the people behind them to look for me, who told the people behind them, who told the people behind them.

I could hear what they were saying, too.

"Where's Monica from Kansas? She drove all the way here, from Kansas. She's alone. She doesn't have anyone, so we adopted her. She's one of us. She's our family. Someone find her. We lost Monica from Kansas."

And then: "Where is Monica from Kansas? Where did she go? Someone find Monica from Kansas. She's one of us. She's short! She's this tall."

Guys, I don't mean to brag, but for a few minutes in downtown Denver at the Pepsi Center*, I had a group of friends looking for me.

That is the weirdest feeling in the world. 

I almost cried.

The guy in front of me passed along the information, and when he got to the point of saying "she's short," he put his hand up, horizontal, as if taking someone's height, to my head. 

My friend group passed along my height to the people behind them, and the description of my height stayed surprisingly accurate as it traveled through the line of people.

"You're Monica from Kansas, aren't you?" the guy in front of me said.

Guilty, sir.

And then the most miraculous thing happened. It was like Moses parting the Red Sea, because the 30 people between myself and my friend group each moved over to the side.

I had a perfect line of sight between the rows of people, standing to either side, and what I saw at the end of the tunnel was the most beautiful thing ever.

There was my friend group, the ones I spent hours with outside, and they were looking for me.

"Monica from Kansas," they said. "Get up here."

I told them I couldn't cut. I had no intention of cutting in front of people. Everyone in line had a different opinion, though. 

They said: "Monica from Kansas, go be with your friends."

So Monica from Kansas bypassed about 30 people in line and got to go hang out with her friends.

It was the best day ever.

---

Because of reasons, most of my friend group had tickets to the other pit (there are two pit areas this tour). The ones who were in my pit went immediately went to the other side of the stage.

Here's the thing about Monica from Kansas: She's short. 

So short, in fact, that if anyone is standing in front of me, I can't see anything. 

My friend group from across the stage wanted me to come over. But they were already 3-4 people deep in front of the stage, and if I stood in back with them, the only thing I would have seen is someone's back.

No bueno, friend group.

I had the perfect spot in the front row on the other side of the stage. I kept my spot, and made friends with the group of people around me.

The friend group across the stage hollered at me until the concert started.

"Monica from Kansas!"

"Monica!"

"Kansas!"

"Monica from Kansas!"

We waved to each other. We even air high-fived each other.

I don't have a huge friend group. I've never gone to an Eric Church concert with friends. But for one night, in downtown Denver, I had a group of friends. 

That night was probably the best night of my life. 

It was the best day of my life.

I heard someone behind me ask: "Who the hell Monica from Kansas?" 

When I was standing in line outside the venue, someone answered that question to another person who asked.

"She's a big deal. She has Chris LeDoux's autograph."**

For that one night, and probably the one night only, Monica from Kansas was a pretty big deal. 

Also, I don't understand why being short*** is a personality trait, but apparently it is. 

Stay tuned for more posts about the actual concert. I just wanted to write this because Monica from Kansas is best thing that's ever happened to me. 

There's so much love and happiness in the room that it's unreal.

It's magical.

---

*I know it's not called the Pepsi Center anymore, but in my heart, that place will always be the Pepsi Center.

**While waiting for the show outside the venue, we started talking about who had the most famous person's autograph. Everyone said Eric Church. While I do have his autograph, I one-upped everyone. I have Chris LeDoux's autograph, and he wrote my name on it. I was six. That story impressed this group of people.  :) 

*** I'm 5'3

Ashley from Church

I had one of the best nights of my life tonight, and I don’t want to go to sleep until I write this down.

I do not want to forget about this. I never want to forget about this.

I want to remember this moment forever.

As I’ve done in the past, I’m going to start this story with the ending. Because as my favorite author says in my favorite book: “It might seem strange to start a story with an ending. But all endings are also beginnings. You just don’t know it at the time.”

—

I go to a lot of concerts alone. Specifically, I go to a lot of Eric Church concerts alone.

When I tell EC fans this, as I did tonight, I was met with so much love and respect that I really wasn’t expecting it.

Tonight was just one big pile of love.

This blog post is going to be about one specific moment. It was probably one of the most beautiful moments in my life.

—

When you ask Eric Church fans how and when they became a fan, you get pretty much the same version of the story.

They found his music during a really tough time in their life. One woman tonight told me that her friend was dying, and someone handed her The Outsiders album.

It changed her life.

I have a moment that changed my life forever. As I’ve written about here before, the song that got me hooked on Eric Church’s music was the song Record Year.

I was in a relationship that ended back when Mr. Misunderstood came out. When I figured out that Record Year was a break up song, my life changed forever.

That song saved my life.

—

I met the most amazing people at the concert tonight. I have no idea how long I’m going to stay up tonight, because I want to write this all down so I never, ever forget it. 

I had a ticket for the Soul pit. For those of you who don’t speak Eric Church, he plays in the round and there are two pits on either side of the stage. 

I was in the Soul pit. Most of my buddies from waiting in line outside were in the Heart pit, and I was a little sad that I wasn’t going to be near them.

Dude, I finally made friends at a concert, and they all went away. What the hell.

When I did finally get to the stage floor and picked my spot, none of my buddies were anywhere near me. The ones who were near(ish) to me in line hollered my name from across the stage before the show, and that was also one of the coolest things I’ve ever experienced. 

I met the most incredible group of people I’ve ever met.

The girl beside me, Ashley, told me that their concert friend group started when one person took another person who wasn’t a fan to the show. Pretty soon the third person took a person, and so on, and it grew into this wonderfully large group of friends that go to all the Denver concerts together.

Ashley and I talked a lot. During the song Record Year, I thought about not telling her this. I could have kept my mouth shut.

We talked the entire night how this whole concert thing turned into one big family. We look out for each other. We love each other.

We’re a family. 

You don’t find that at a lot of concerts or with a lot of performers. This is something special that we all share with each other. 

I nudged Ashley in the arm and whispered into her ear during the song Record Year: “This song saved my life.”

Ashley took my hand, and for the entire song, we sang Record Year together. I squeezed her hand as tight as I could and she rubbed my hand with her fingers.

Everyone has a song that either changed their life or saved their life. And for a few minutes in Denver, when all I really wanted was my friends, my family or a significant other beside me, I had a friend so caring that we held hands and swayed together. 

I wish my words could capture the magic of the moment. There is no way they can. In that moment, my world stopped and I took a minute to feel all of the feels that I could. 

Ashley put her number in my phone as “Ashley from Church,” hence the title of this post.

Ashley from Church, that was one of the best moments of my life. At one point, towards the end of the show, she nudged me. 

She said: “I am so glad I met you.”

Me too, Ashley from Church. Me too. 

Colorado

 I had this blog thing all planned out.

I was going to write about how a third party site, one I’ve used for the past 10 years, totally burned me and left me without a hotel room at night hundreds of miles away from home.

I was also going to complain that two AirBnBs canceled on me.

And then I was going to throw it out there that I couldn’t get the key code door to work at 2:30 a.m. at one place I stayed at.

And then there’s that whole replacing my brakes thing for too much money because I am a dumb tourist sometimes.

Also, I paid $4.50 a gallon for gas.

At one point, I thought about just throwing in the towel and going back to Kansas. Nothing was going right and I was in a bad mood.

But I’m not a quitter. 

And what followed was a day and a night of family, friendship, mountain rides, food, alcohol, good conversations and jokes and laughter that I haven’t had in a really long time.

I challenge everyone reading this right now to go to nature, turn your phone off for a weekend, take a trail ride through the rainy mountains, and try some moonshine in what’s probably the most beautiful place in the world.

And then go back into town, get yourself some McDonalds, and then TikTok yourself into oblivion. 

It’s wonderful.

Best weekend ever.