The Mother Road

“Ma’am, this is the Oklahoma City Police Department”

That is not a call that any mother wants to get. And yet here I am, nearly 40 years old, and the cops called my mom.

It happened at the Weezer concert. We were all walking around before the show, checking out the merch, waiting in the concession line, and Claire’s phone rings. She looks at me confused. It’s my sister, Ashley, which is unusual. “Why didn’t she just call me?” I wondered.

I give her a shrug, “I dunno. Answer it.”

“The cops have your mom’s phone,” my sister tells her when she answers.

Claire starts laughing.

“The cops have your phone, mom. It’s waiting for you at the entrance.”

I start feeling around my pockets and, sure enough, my phone is missing. Serves me right for wearing my daughters’ ‘too-young-for-me’ ripped jeans with a hole in the back pocket, exactly where I commonly store my phone.

I walked to the front of the venue where a line of uniformed police officers were playfully mocking me as I walked down the line of shame past them to the leader at the front.

“Phone?” one says.

Another gestures the universal phone signal, pinky and thumb extending from ear to mouth.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m the one who lost my phone,” I laughed back, shaking my head.

They pointed toward the head guy at the front of the group and I walked past their lighthearted banter.

At the front I proved ownership of the phone and he handed it back to me with a playful disapproving shake of his head.

“How’d you know to call Ashley,” I asked him, confused.

“I just pressed the button on the side and said, “Call mom!” he replied.

I thanked him and walked away, smiling in amusement. “How old am I?” I asked myself.

As soon as I got the phone back I called my sister. “You about gave mom a heart attack!” she tells me. “She answered her phone expecting it to be you and instead she heard, “Ma’am, this is the Oklahoma City Police Department.”

“I’m sorry!” I laughed. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Driving Bonds

My girls and I drove through the night from Florida to Oklahoma, fueled by our eagerness to see the band, Weezer, perform live. Their setlist blared from Spotify, keeping us alert and adding to our excitement. We had been eagerly anticipating this concert for months.

I felt nostalgic as the familiar tunes played through the car speakers. The songs carried the memories of my own youth, and now they were intertwining with the experiences and memories we were creating together, bridging the generational gap.

I relished that dedicated time with my girls. They introduced me to podcasts and music they liked, they told stories, and they laughed with each other at inside jokes that I didn’t even need to understand to enjoy.

It reinforced the lesson this summer has already begun teaching me: the journey is essential to reaching the destination.

Confections and Connections

The line for funnel cakes wrapped around the side of the food truck, stretching about 30 yards, all the way to the cleanest bank of port-a-potties I’ve ever experienced at a concert.
This would not be a short wait. However, the opening act hadn’t even taken the stage yet, and we had a view of the amphitheater platform beside a small cluster of trees where outdoor misters were suspended to keep the crowd cool. So, we decided that the allure of batter, deep-fried to a golden crisp and topped with generous amounts of powdered sugar, would be well worth the wait.

Little did we know at that point that the wait and an unexpected encounter would be sweeter than the confection itself.”

The sun set slowly over the crowd as forty minutes elapsed, casting just a faint glow of light as the opening act took the stage. Occasionally a gentle breeze would blow, wafting the delicious aroma of freshly fried batter in our direction, and we could feel the cooling mist from the trees on our faces.

We passed the time discussing pop culture and watching YouTube videos on her phone, and people in the venue.

“Hey, look. That woman is wearing a “Free Mom Hugs” button,” Claire pointed out as we were nearing the front of the line.

“Aw, I love that!” I responded

“That reminds me of a YouTube video I wanted to show you with a mom and grandma giving free hugs at a Pride event,” she said.

A young brunette in her 20’s confidently swept past wearing a fabulous pair of red cowboy boots and in the midst of our conversation we stopped to admire them.

“That girl had the most awesome red boots,” Claire said to me.

“I know, I saw them, too!” I replied with enthusiasm.

“They reminded me of Ted Mosby,” Claire giggled, referencing an episode from ‘How I Met Your Mother,’ a sitcom that she and I had watched together. Then she regained her focus and, on her phone, pulled up the YouTube video of the free mom hugs she had mentioned and we started watching it together.

“Excuse me,” a young brunette in her 20s tentatively interrupted about thirty seconds into the video. “if I were to buy you a funnel cake, could I hop in line with you guys? I don’t want to be a burden to anyone else who’s been waiting, but it’s so much longer than I expected. I waited too long. I was supposed to get funnel cakes for my friends and I should have gotten in line earlier, like they told me I should, I just really don’t want to miss the start of the concert,” she nervously rambled, but looked hopeful.

“Of course! We’ve been saving your spot in line for you,” I responded enthusiastically. “We’re old friends. How have you been?”

She looked grateful and relieved as she confidently took her place in line right next to us.

“I’m Bree,” she said.

“I know,” I playfully replied. “We’re old friends, remember?”

She laughed, a relaxed demeanor taking the place of nerves.

“I’m Shawna,” I said.

“I’m Claire,” she chimed in.

“So are you guys sisters or friends, mom and daughter…?” she asked.

“We already let you in line, but I’ll always accept flattery,” I joked.

“This is my mom,” Claire replied, amused.

“I thought so, but you can never assume!” she laughed. “I love that! My mom and I go to concerts together, too!”

“I have another daughter here, too. She’s in the crowd with her friend, holding our spots,” I told her.

“Wow,” she replied. “You’re just letting her do her own thing? It’s great that you all have that trust and freedom.”

“Do you understand how cool your mom is for doing stuff like this with you?” she asked Claire sincerely.

Claire smiled, looked at me and proudly said, “Oh, I know.”

My heart swelled. All I could do was smile.

“I love your boots, by the way,” Claire said to my surprise. “We were actually just talking about them as you walked by.”

I looked down for the first time since she arrived and noticed the red cowboy boots, realizing she was the same young woman who had breezed past us earlier.

“You guys are so nice,” she said. “I was really nervous about asking to buy someone a funnel cake to cut in line, I was only going to try it once and if my first attempt didn’t work I was just gonna give up and go to the back of the line, but I’m so glad I met you. This is so special. Keep doing stuff like this together! Now that I’m older, my mom is my best friend.

“I’m gonna brag and tell this story to my friends!”

Same girl!

Weezer took the stage just as we reached the front of the line, and Bree gifted us with our funnel cake, as promised. We said goodbye and went our separate ways to enjoy the performance.

The funnel cake was slightly soggy and under-cooked – not the golden brown I generally prefer – yet it was the best funnel cake experience I’ve ever had.

Rockin’ Road Trip

When the curtains opened the stage had been transformed into a giant car dashboard, and just like deja vu, we were reliving our experience from just 24 hours prior, music and all.

I love that my teenage daughters and I share the same taste in music. It’s even more fun for me when they get into bands that I listened to when I was their age.

The show was incredible.

This was our first event to attend at the outdoor Zoo Amphitheater and the atmosphere was engaging. The open-air venue unexpectedly added an extra layer of intimacy and I felt more connected with the crowd around me in this venue than in specified auditorium seats in an indoor arena, enhancing the experience.

The crowd was engaged, excited to be there, and infectious enthusiasm radiated the entire amphitheater. It was a gathering of kindred spirits of all ages, brought together by the universal language of music.

The reactions to the performance were synchronous, everyone singing along together, excited over recognition of well-known favorites, and developing a fondness for new favorites that were really enticing live. For us it was “I Just Threw Out the Love of My Dreams” where two unknown female singers joined the band onstage atop the dashboard and sang with the uninhibited presence of a carefree karaoke bar performance.

Laughter filled the venue as lead singer, Rivers Cuomo, entertained us with cheesy dad jokes and immortalized memorable moments with his road trip selfies on a vintage Polaroid camera.

We loved every moment!

Journey

“Keep doing stuff like this together!” That’s what Bree said to us.

And I absolutely plan to!

Not just the big things, like concerts and road trips – although there will be more of that this summer, so stay tuned – but the small, seemingly mundane, everyday moments.

Spending precious time with my oldest on the cusp of her 16th birthday. Meeting new people through my social butterfly of a middle child. Seeing the world through the eyes of my youngest.

We’re still on the journey, not yet sure what destination it’s leading us to, but enjoying every minute.

Just as Bree expressed fond memories of her special moments with her mom, I hope my girls will look back on these moments with me with the same fondness.

This summer is our island in the sun. We’re playing and having fun.
♪and it makes me feel so fine I can’t control my brain♪”