Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Lesson 180: Truck Yeah!

Oh, Glory Day, Readers!  As if Lessons #164-174 didn't give you a big enough dose of Tim McGraw, here's a little more!

Tim McGraw's truck makes a stop at the Harborcreek, PA Wal-Mart!

Here is a picture of Handsome, emblazoned on the back of it.

Daughters and I were setting up my classrooms for school which begins next week, when I began receiving texts from Terri at the Bank.  "Tim McGraw's truck just pulled into Wal-Mart!" was the message with a photo attached!

Not long after that, Grandma (my mother) who has a nose for news, also began texting me.  My parents who were out running errands yesterday spotted the truck pulling into Wal-Mart.  

"Hey Helen, I think that's Tim McGraw's truck," says my keen-eyed dad.

Eeeerrrrrcccchhhh!  That is the sound of screeching brakes and my mother, who always drives, making an illegal U-Turn in the middle of Route 20.   

While en route to retrieve my camera (obeying all traffic signals and speed limits, of course), I received another text from her:  "I just met the driver and I got you a t-shirt and some sunglasses!" she exclaimed, as Ellen read the text to me.

"Crap!" I said aloud.

"Crap!" echoed Natalie from the backseat.

I got a reprimanding look from Ellen and felt guilty for the use of my potty word and also guilty that I was initially unhappy that Grandma beat me there.  What if she got to meet the driver and I didn't?  Or even worse, what would she tell him about me?  I pressed down a little harder on the accelerator.

I got there in time though, and when I did, I found not just one truck, but three!  The two on either end belonged to Tim McGraw and the one in the middle was Kenny Chesney's.  His truck was lame.  No picture of him or anything.  They were part of a 22 truck convoy headed from Detroit to Boston, where Tim and Kenny will play the last two shows of their Brothers of the Sun Concert Tour.

I found no trace of a driver, nor my parents, and I thought for a split second they invited him to come over for a beer and a tour of dad's Garagemahal.  Eloise came to find out from a hot tip from a helpful bank teller that my parents had retrieved their goods and went on their merry-little-happily-retired-way.  The driver was taking a break inside Walmart.  This was just a random stop along the way for some food and needed items.

So Eloise did what any fan would do--hung on the back of the truck and made her 11 year old daughter take pictures?

"Is this LEGAL?" Ellen asked in between snaps.

"Be quiet and shoot," said Mother Eloise.

I gave therm their turn to get their photographs, too.

This is Jim, one of the drivers.  I met both of them.  

They were very nice, hardworking guys who loved their jobs as well as adored their boss.  One had been working with Tim McGraw for 11 years, the other one 9.  Both drivers had great things to say about my Number One Singer.  

Jim said that Tim was a top notch guy and "quite a character."  He told me that Tim is quite a trickster while out on tour and loves to hunt.  Jim described Handsome as "a real man" and a "really nice guy who treats people well."  Right then and there Eloise fell a little deeper in love!

Jim gave me some glasses, too.

And after I prattled on and on about all the facts I knew about Tim and told him how much I loved the show I saw in Cleveland, he gave me this:

"This is the real deal, Darlin'," he said in his captivating southern drawl as he handed me his very own backstage, V.I.P. pass!

"Is this REAL?  Can I actually use this!?!?!" I hollered as I flung my arms around this neck and hugged the burly, moustached stranger.

"Sure, Honey," Jim drawled, "as long as you can get 'yerself to Boston this weekend, it will work just fine."

"You got any room in the back of that truck?" I asked him.

"Nah," he said, "that's packed with all the instruments for the band."

I groaned.  "Ugh! If I was twenty years younger......." I fantasized, giving a look towards my daughters.

"If I was twenty years younger, you'd be up front with me, riding to Boston," said Jim.

When I returned home later, I found this t-shirt in my garage.  My mother must have put it in there for me to find.  It was black and just my size.  It was THE T-shirt.  The official concert one that I really wanted, but would not allow myself to buy when I was in Cleveland.

Concert t-shirts are expensive.  This year, I have three children going to school and we had just been shoe shopping the week prior.  I really wanted this t-shirt, but just couldn't justify the $40 splurge.  It seemed frivolous and selfish.  I told myself I'd look on E-Bay this fall when the tour was over.  Sometimes you can find old concert shirts on there for $5.

I didn't come home from Cleveland empty handed though.  I got this one.  It was a street t-shirt.

Guys walk around parking lots at concerts and sell shirts like this illegally.  (Yes, Ellen, I bought and illegal t-shirt).  On the way out of the concert, my friend and I were walking to the parking lot and a man approached us asking us if we wanted a shirt.

"How much?" I asked.

"Ten," said the Clevelandite, scanning the post-concert crowd for cops.

"Got a medium in there?" I asked.  "I got cash."  I reached in my purse and pulled out a wad of bills.

He looked at the shirt in his hand and tossed it to my friend.  I handed him the money, without ever making a break in my stride, and went on to the car.

My friend held up the t-shirt and said, "This is nice."

"Yeah, it's okay," I said.  "I really wanted the black one but I just couldn't justify it.  I'll have to settle for second this time around."  Giving it a second glance, I knew it would match my purple running shorts and I figured it would make a long run all the easier if I was sweating in Tim.  It wasn't so bad.  I could live with it.

"Awww, too bad," mused my friend aloud.  "He gave you a large."

"That's ok," I yelled, "because I only gave him six bucks!" and we laughed the rest of the way back to her jeep.

I thought of the whole day yesterday as an opportunity for a teachable moment.  Never wanting to miss the opportunity to give my girls a lesson, I told them the story of me really wanting the black t-shirt, and having the good judgment to wait.  "See," said Mother Eloise, "sometimes what you really want finds you eventually, sometimes when you least expect it.  You just have to be patient and wait for it to come."

Ellen paused a minute, thinking it all through and then said this:
"So, you are saying it is okay to walk up to a stranger on the street and buy an illegal t-shirt, cheat him out of money, tresspass on someone's truck by climbing all over it, and think getting a ride to Boston with a stranger is a good idea....."

The only intelligent response I could think of was "Shut up, Ellen."

"Shut up Ellen," echoed Natalie.

Other news from this week:

Outback Open Fishing Tournament winners--Tim Lafferty, First Place.  Mackenzie Miller, Second Place and also the Lunker award for the biggest perch.  Girl power!

I also caught a beautiful sunset at the lake the other night when I took Sam down for a swim.  I was hoping for the opportunity to share them with you.

After a seaweedy July, the lake is crystal clear once again.

During every sunset, there is a split second when the sun hits the water that makes a brilliant burst of light.  I caught it the other night.

And there she goes.  Disappeared for a little while, but she'll come round again.  She always does.

The sun sets this weekend on The Brothers of the Sun tour.  I bet Driver Jim and all involved will be sad to see it end.  It was such a good show and deemed the #1 Summer Concert of 2012.  I am glad I got my chance to see it.  

Click on the video below to see the rest of the photos of my chance encounter on Monday.
Trucks!  Yeah!

1 comment:

BookWoman said...

Eloise- I'm speechless!! LOL