First, let me say that this is not a movie review. This is about the radio show the movie was about. I hadn't seen the film, but I gained a respect for the show itself.
Beka and I had free tickets to see the thing and were encouraged to go by Beka's grandmother. We had no idea what it was, and weren't told the title but the name of the guy who did it. I have since forgotten his name. She assured us he was famous and that we should google him. We never got around to it.
As we drove to the outdoor concert theater we noticed a gray sky. As we walked to our seats it started to drizzle, then rain. We mentally thanked gram for seats under the roof, stumbled around and found our seats.
We were close enough to see what was going on, so it was good. The stage looked like an old time radio set. The music had begun, and we heard the host singing. But we couldn't find him.
People were laughing, and we strained to figure out why. Nothing happened on stage. The rain was picking up.
We looked around to our aisle and saw him. The host was singing and nodding to people in the audience as he walked by. Older people in the audience were delighted. Younger folk like Beka and I didn't know what to make of it.
He continued to go as he sang a medly. It started to rain heavier, and the host was outside with the people sitting on the lawn. We craned our necks, hoping to see him. Of course we couldn't, but we couldn't be disappointed. How could we be? He was suffering with the fans.
Toward the end of his set he made his way back to the stage. His hair would retain the soaked look for the rest of the evening. It began to pour. The lawn fans cleared out, and we heard thunder.
Our host informed us that we would be on the air. I would remember that later when I let a weird, loud laugh escape. Some random day I might hear public radio and say, "That's my laugh! My laugh is on the radio!" Then I'll weep a little.
At one point the lights went out and quickly came back on. Someone whispered in the host's ear as he sang with a group. He later informed us that the show was off the air for about 10 minutes. "I don't know what you were listening to at that time," he told the radio audience.
The duel between radio show and thunderstorm continued. At one point they did a skit, and a lady put on a sultry voice and used the word "sex" as much as possible. She was in the middle of a joke when the thunder BOOMED too loudly for anyone to ignore. She stopped in the middle of her joke and said, "I think that was a sign."
Eventually the storm died down, and we enjoyed some folksy, bluesy and bluegrassy music. Some of the skits were enjoyable as well, while one sentimental letter reading was a little too "Country Time Lemonade" commercial-esque for my tastes. Still, The Wailing Jennys and the guitarist from Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna did an excellent job and are definately plug-worthy.
As we walked back to the car, I remembered the thunderstorm and the wet hair, and the constant refusal to shut the show down. I'm not a fan, but I'm glad he was with the ones who are.
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