*sigh*Well. The thunderstorms finally subsided, they got all the tents and banners put back together, and we loaded up the kids and headed out to Speed Street.
I rarely go to uptown Charlotte and I haven't been to Speed Street in several years, and the last time we went, we only went for the parade, and hung out for the fireworks, none of which involved being near the stages where the concerts were. The event is advertised as a family event, there's even a "Kidz Stage" where the kids could see local mascots and get autographs from Terry LaBonte... But tonight, we went specifically for the concerts.
My observations follow:
One cannot get any where near the stage when pushing a stroller, unless one is willing to risk the life of the child riding in said stroller.
Outdoor concerts that have to be observed from 2 blocks up the street are pointless. The base line was all that really filtered through the crowd noise.
Crowds of rednecks and pseudo-preps who imbibe large quantities of beer, while shouldering and elbowing their way through crowds of thousands on a 90 degree day all smell like funk, and lose all traces of respect and decency, including the most basic human instinct, which would be the desire to protect (or at the very least, avoid inflicting injury upon) small children.
The behavior (and stench) of aforementioned crowds brings out the Mama Bear instinct in me in precisely 1.6 seconds, and it only took that long because for the first 1.3 seconds, we were at the outside edge of the event area, away from said group of reeking assholes.
Drunk men, regardless of size, apparently believe that sweat-soaked back hair is sexy, and simply must remove their shirts to show it off. Their shirts, before removal, all say something brilliantly witty like,
Drunk women wear too little clothing and entirely too much make-up, and behave much worse than drunk men. They also seem to think that if they press their scantily clad breasts against you, you will move out of their way, even when there's a child-filled stroller in front of you, making it impossible to move.
In other words, we spent a total of $5 for the evening, for parking, and felt that we'd spent too much. We left early, didn't hear anything Staind sang, and had to repeatedly perform superhuman feats of self-restraint. I miss doing grown up things without the kids. More than that, I miss doing the immature things such as public drunkenness and exhibitionism. Next year, I'm getting a babysitter, a miniskirt, 2 tubes of mascara, a waterbra, and some of the strongest deodorant I can find - and I'm gonna friggin' party.