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.

Part 12: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Remember when I said earlier on thishereblog that beauty and art are subjective?

Let's continue with that theme.

Because I planned this trip at the last minute on a holiday weekend, I was unable to find a hotel room that met our needs for all three nights.

That means that we were nomads during the day, and switched hotels each night.

The second hotel we stayed in was downtown. I had high hopes for it. It had good reviews online, and I was excited about staying downtown.

It turns out, that hotel sucked.

It wanted to be a cool place for hipsters, but it just failed on so many different levels. (It missed the mark like a 23-year-old journalist fresh out of school used to miss the mark on stories all of the time.)

I had a lot of fun with the door knob that went into the our bathroom at this hotel. Um, where am I supposed to grab it? I felt kind of dirty every time I touched it.

Across the street from the hotel, my Mom took a photo of another "art" sculpture.

Oh, Saint Louis. I loved you. I want to go back to you.

Part 11: Art

Much like the last post, I think I'll just the photos I took speak for themselves.

Saint Louis is a beautiful city. We felt like we were going to die a few times, but we didn't and the beauty makes up for that.

Part 10: BAD WORDS.

I had a really weird phone conversation the other day.

Me: Do you care if I blog about your boyfriend?

Mom: Which one?

Me: All of them.

That conversation does not happen every day. I don't usually get permission from people to write about them, but I felt like this topic needed her okay first.

Please note: The last time I checked, my parents are happily married and have been for 35 years. Or 36, or 82, or something like that.

Also, please note that it's really gross when you're with your parents in public and they get hit on.

Ew.

Get this: This concert and this trip were my idea. I bought the concert tickets. And yet, despite me being the instigator, my Mom is the one who constantly got hit on everywhere we went.

It's not fair.

At the concert, there was a guy sitting beside her. He was with a group of four women, and if one of those was his girlfriend, you could not tell. Not a single one of those girls paid any attention to him (of course, who would pay attention to a guy when you're in the same building as Eric Church?).

The guy was clearly a third wheel among his people.

And the thing is, he was cute. He was around my age. Did I mention he was cute?

But I never got the chance to meet him or talk to him, because he was talking to my Mom DURING THE WHOLE CONCERT.

At one point during the concert, my Mom nudged me.

"My friend just asked me if I'm going out tonight after the show."

BAD WORDS, MOM. BAD WORDS.

I told her she could put a sock on the hotel room door if she wanted to. (Gross.) She laughed.

If I had sat in that seat, I could have had a husband in a year or two. I could have lived in a penthouse palace in downtown Saint Louis (he actually lived in Jefferson City, but whatever). But no, that won't happen now, because my mom stole him from me.

I'm just joking...kind of.

When we went to the Cardinals game, she made a boyfriend there too, but he was an older guy and not as cute as the Concert Boyfriend.

Meanwhile, I did not get hit on once.

Thanks, Mom.

Part 9: I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

I think it's possible that I left a piece of my heart at City Museum in Saint Louis.

The place is weird and unconventional. The place is very much like me.

I'm not even sure what to say about City Museum. At first, I was not impressed. I wanted to leave, and I wanted to get out of that weird, stupid place.

But after I ate and I wasn't hangry anymore, we started to explore the place.

How cool!

I wish we would have gone back there.

Back when I committed to this trip and bought the concert tickets, I joined/stalked the Saint Louis subreddit in Reddit. I made a list on my phone of places and restaurants that locals kept mentioning.

Everyone told out-of-towners to check out City Museum.

It was the place that I was most excited about visiting (other than our hot date with Mr. Church, of course).

I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

A someone on Facebook said: City Museum, I could not love you more.

Part 8: How ‘bout you?

We were in the hotel before the concert, hanging out. We were tired, so it was nice to take a break and lay down.

The TV was not on. I was laying in bed with my face buried in the pillow.

Sweet, sweet heaven.

Out of nowhere, my Mom starts laughing. I know that laugh, because I heard that laugh at my doctor’s appointment the day earlier.

There was nothing funny happening. I wondered what in the world she thought was so funny.

She barely got it out: “Monica, I think I’m ready to go to the concert. How ‘bout you?”

For those of you who don’t follow Church, there’s a song called How ‘Bout You. 

That moment was as perfect as my doctor’s appointment.

I laughed, too, and I told her that next time, don’t laugh before you tell me the joke. You kinda beat yourself to the punch line there.

The rest of the night was filled with that joke.

Mom, I want something to eat. How ‘bout you?

I think I’m going to buy that t-shirt. How ‘bout you?

I like this song. How ‘bout you?

Part 7: She was a butt.

I got snubbed out of a department store in Saint Louis on Saturday afternoon.

Oh, buddy. That lady did not like me being in there. I guess you need to be extra special to buy a lipstick that costs a whopping $20?

I kept my mouth shut, and we walked to the next department store to shop.

As I was leaving that store, I got to thinking.

I was dressed cute, and my hair was cute. I was wearing a cute outfit and cute jewelry.

If that lady didn't like the way that I looked at that moment, I thought about telling her about how I looked at my doctor's appointment the day before.

Just imagine what that entails.

That lady was a butt.

I love lamp.

I completed a Pinterest project last night.

I couldn't decide what lyrics to pick. I was stuck between Record Year or Hallelujah. Hallelujah would have been a little more classy, but Record Year was so amazing live in Saint Louis, I had to go with that song.

So here's my Record Year lamp. I wish I had cute handwriting, but I don't.

It doesn't matter though. I like it.

Part 5: Well, that’s fine, but the Cardinals are to you what Eric Church is to me.

I don’t even know where to start. So, let’s start from the beginning. We got to the arena a couple of hours early. The Cardinals were playing the Cubs, and that stadium almost 50,000* people. Graduations were going on downtown, and the Scottrade Center holds almost 20,000 people.

Like I told my Mom, there are 70,000 people within a mile or two of each other.

We wanted to go early to get a parking spot.

We parked easily, then went and stood in line for a while. The guy beside us, decked out with a wicked sunburn alongside his daughter, told us that the Cards won that afternoon. (Cubs had won the night before.)

He gave us a breakdown: The Cubs are usually better. It’s nice to get a win when we can, he said.

His daughter said it wasn’t pretty, but that it was a good game.

There’s one thing you need to know about Saint Louis: They really, really like baseball. They're really serious about it, too. And if you inadvertently cut in line when you're buying tickets to the game, you will get your backside handed to you for that mistake.

As you absolutely should. (Don't ask me how I know that.)

The game started at 3 p.m., and we were standing in line for EC around 6 or 6:30 p.m.

I asked the guy and his daughter what would have happened if the game ran late. What if it lasted 18 innings? Which would they pick, Eric Church or the Cards?

His daughter, a college student, looked at me like I was the stupidest person on Planet Earth. 

Which would she pick? Her exact quote: “THE CARDINALS.”

Well, that’s fine, but the Cardinals are to you what Eric Church is to me. I did not say that to her. She had a badass tattoo on her leg, and she probably would have beat me up or something.

*Game attendance was 47,925 people. 

Beauty.

Part 4: CORRECTION

Before I continue with my series of EC posts, I have to stop for a minute and fess up to a couple of mistakes I made in a previous blog post.

I know for sure one was a mistake. I think I messed up the other one, too. I could probably Google it, but I'm not going to.

My first post of the EC concert in Wichita said that he sang a song about two highway lanes. It turns out that I'm not always right.

The song that he played was called Two Pink Lines, and it's actually pretty hilarious. It's not about two lanes on a highway, and it's not about a pink highway.

It's a song about a girl taking a pregnancy test. (Two means three, and a diamond ring.)

It's a song that I love now.

So, that was my first correction I have to make. I don't always get it right.

I screw up sometimes.

The second correction I have is a little more complicated. In Wichita, I thought he was singing Hallelujah.

I don't know if that's true or not. I'm going to issue a quasi-correction here. I think, and I don't really know this for sure, but I think the version of Hallelujah that blared out was the original version of the song.

I could Google it, but I don't want to.

I feel bad for screwing those two things up with my previous blog post. 

I'm sorry, dudes. I'll try and do better next time.

-----

Now that I think about it, I have one more correction to make.

Keep in mind, I'm from western Kansas and I honestly don't know any better.

I was driving around in Wichita after my doctor's appointment, trying to find my way onto a road that would take us east. I ended up facing a hotel, not on the road that took us to paradise, but we ended up facing a hotel that was being built.

The sign was up on the hotel. I had never heard of the name. I thought it was French. I thought it was a fancy-pants swanky hotel, and I told my Mom to take a picture of it.

"La Qui."

And then we saw the other side of the building.

You guys...it was a La Quinta. The "nta" part of "Quinta" just hadn't been put up yet on the side of the building that was facing us.

And that's my personality in a nutshell. And yes, we took a picture of it.

Part 3: Happy Mother's Day

After the Eric Church Show in Wichita in April, I knew that I had to go to another concert.

Yes, the Wichita show was great, don’t get me wrong. But I felt like it wasn’t complete. When I got online to check his tour dates, I told myself that if there was one more show within driving distance, I was going to it.

Driving distance to me is a relative thing. I drive all the time. I’ve lived in Oklahoma City (for a whopping two months 10 years ago) and driven in Denver, Lincoln, Omaha, Dallas and Austin.

I can really drive anywhere, guys. Parking is another story that I really don't want to admit or talk about just yet. I might have gotten lost tonight after I left a parking garage, and I might have had to Google Maps my way to a building THAT WAS ATTACHED TO THE PARKING GARAGE.

Whatever.

Anyway, one more Eric Church show popped up on his tour date list within driving distance of Kansas.

Saint Louis.

Saint Louis!

Saint Louie!

I was there when the Cardinals won the World Series when I was in college. 

Saint Louis it is.

I called my Mom back in April, and I asked her if she was sitting down. I asked her if she wanted to go to the EC concert with me in Saint Louis.

She said no.

I told her she was dead to me, and then I hung up the phone on her. (I was kidding…kind of.)

I gave it a few days, and religiously checked online to see if there were still tickets available. A few days in, I gave in. I was afraid of the show selling out. I bought two tickets and crossed my fingers that my Mom would change her mind.

I was willing to go alone, but of course it'd be a whole lot more fun to go with another person.

A few days later, at the end of April, I got a text message.

“Yes, I’ll go.”

Yes, Mom. I know that because I already bought you a ticket. You’re going, whether you like it or not.

At the end of the night, when it was past midnight, I looked at my mom. It was Sunday, May 14. I gave her a hug and a kiss.

Happy Mother’s Day.