Sunday, Dan and I went to downtown Knoxville’s River and Rail Theater to see an outstanding production of Thornton Wilder’s play, Our Town. Afterwards, we decided to walk the three blocks to one of our favorite restaurants. As we walked, we passed an ever-increasing number of people wearing fashionable interpretations of urban cowboys and girls.
At the restaurant, we were seated on the very edge of the restaurant’s fenced off dining area at an outside table. We were facing Market Square Mall, a charming trafficless block of restaurants, fountains and performance spaces where one can see and be seen.
We were just in time to witness what seemed like a fashion parade at its peak. Young ladies wore boots that ranged from knee length white patten leather to fancy cowgirl boots. There were micro-mini skirts, shorts, bare midriffs and elaborate cowboy hats. One or two ladies wore halter tops or vests minus a shirt. The guys wore cowboy boots and manly tight-fitting shirts with rolled up cuffs and the ubiquitous cowboy hat.
It wasn’t as good as the play we just watched, but it was definitely entertaining. When our server came, we asked if this was a typical Sunday afternoon crowd. “No,” he said, “Morgan Wallen is in town for a two-night concert.”
“Who?” I said.
“Morgan Wallen, a superstar of country music who is from this area,” he replied. He went on to tell us the concert was being held in the 101,915 seat Neyland Stadium and the tickets went for between $200 to $450 per seat. We’d arrived about an hour or so before the performance. Somehow Dan and I had managed to miss this bit of news; we had been clueless.
As I watched the people passing by, I imagined the thought (and money) that went into their clothing, clothing that made them feel special, while their faces were full of pride and excitement to be attending such a superstar concert.
This wasn’t the first time we’ve been clueless. In 2016, we visited our California sons, both of whom live on Alameda Island. One day four of us: our son and his fiancé, Linnea, plus Dan and I, decided to take the ferry over to San Francisco. When we disembarked, we saw serious people holding scary guns, wearing grim expressions, with the words Homeland Security labeled on their uniforms. They were constantly scanning the huge mob of people.
Fearing there had been a shooting, we asked a passerby what was going on and he told us the crowds were there to celebrate Super Bowl 50 which was occurring in nearby Santa Clara. Not only was it a Super Bowl, but Tennessee hometown boy Peyton Manning was playing. Oh dear.
Fortunately, Linnea had once lived in town, and she guided us to peaceful Telegraph Hill for lunch and a visit to Coit Tower. Later that day we ate dinner at a packed restaurant in Oakland. Most of the diners were inside watching a large screen TV, so we sat outside where my chair happened to face the TV screen. Somebody asked me how the game was going and all I could tell them was that a lot of large people were running around a field, and then I switched seats with someone who understood what was going on. I know football requires physical prowess, skill and knowledge, and it is exciting and loved by many people, but watching people hit other people, even if it is a game, hurts my heart.
I will say that in the past I have benefited from football. I was once asked if I wanted to be on a football board, everybody chipped in $2 a week and if your square won you got the pot, which was $50. I jotted my name down on one of the squares, which turned out to be lucky as I won three times that year and bought a set of dishes with the proceeds.
Occasional harmless cluelessness has its advantages.
If we’d known downtown Knoxville was going to be filled with concertgoers, we’d probably have opted to drive elsewhere, but because we didn’t know, we saw a lot of people having a lot of fun. If we’d known that Super Bowl 50 was jamming up San Francisco, we would not have gone to town that day and wouldn’t have had a peaceful visit at the popular Coit Tower.
Dan and I are knowledgeable about the important things, but occasional lapses in social activities have brought us excitement and new adventures. Want to experience something new? Go somewhere or do something about which you know nothing. Who knows? It could be surprising or fun, or you might learn something.
Cindy Arp, teacher/librarian, retired from Knox County Schools. She and husband Dan live in Heiskell.
