When you’re one of 93,033 screaming, barking fans Between the Hedges on a fall Saturday, it doesn’t seem like a statistically unlikely occurrence.
And when you are among 4,000-plus taking in a show in the Broadway series at Atlanta’s Fox Theatre, you are not that special.
When it happens somewhat spontaneously during a busy season of life in which “no” has become my default response to social opportunities, these experiences can both be classified as a “phenomenon.”
That’s what I need you to understand when I say without a hint of hyperbole that last weekend was phenomenal.
On Saturday, Oct. 18, I had a work commitment in Athens tied to, but not including, the University of Georgia home football game against Ole Miss. My plan when I awoke that morning was to drive over, do my thing, drive back. Barron, our oldest and an Athens resident, was just back from a work conference in New Orleans and probably wouldn’t have time to get together during my brief visit to The Classic City.
After posting my wildly popular Mexican restaurant personality quiz, I took Archie for a three-mile walk. I was only a few steps out of the door when Barron texted to let me know he had picked up two tickets to the Dawgs’ matchup against the 5th ranked Ole Miss Rebels. His significant other, Meg, had academic commitments and wasn’t up to three-and-a-half hours of barking. His college football fanatic brother was at a conference of his own in Chicago, so he had to settle for inviting his old man.
Mind you, on November 29, (and 30!) 2024, when Georgia and Georgia Tech went to eight overtimes to settle their differences, and I froze my keister off in the upper deck at Sanford Stadium for five hours, I felt I could go the rest of my life and not experience another Georgia game in person. I had reasons to say “no” all queued up when Barron texted, but something made me pause and reconsider my aversion to committing my entire day.
First, it would be something I could do with my eldest son, and since he’s out of the nest, we don’t have as many opportunities to spend time together. Second, the weather was perfect: sunny, but not too hot, and breezy. It was, as TV announcers like to say, a perfect day for football. Third, I really had nothing better to do. Plan A was to come home and do my weekly chores, maybe get a nap, and have the game on the TV. Fourth, the ticket was free (to me), and my pre-game event included food.
Still, I’m a little embarrassed to say it took all of six minutes for me to agree. I had to check in with my Darling Beloved via text to make sure I wasn’t messing up a secret plan she had for me for the day. She had no hidden agenda and encouraged me to go if I wanted to. And at that moment, I decided I wanted to.
And the day was glorious. Not only was the game thrilling (and a big win for Georgia, which actually played the most complete game of the season thus far), Barron and I enjoyed each others’ company the way dads and sons have for generations at sporting events.
We’ll remember adding our voices to the roar on every Ole Miss third down, the taunts of the Ole Miss frat boys seated above us for the first three quarters, the satisfaction of seeing those same frat boys slink out of the stadium as the clock ran down at the end of the game while fans hurled insults and barked at them, the utter mystification at the two… um… academically focused youths (freshmen?) sitting behind us who spent the entire game animatedly talking about mid-terms, credit hours, and grad school possibilities, the gorgeous sunset over the hills beyond the campus, and grabbing a delicious burger at Baddie’s in Normaltown with Meg after the game while the rest of the throng filtered into downtown Athens or out of town altogether.
Yes, I got home later than I planned. Yes, I missed a highly coveted nap. Yes, I ended up springing for the burgers because I had to pitch in and do my part since my ticket was free. I hope I remember the ROI on that investment, though, and show a willingness to say “yes” when the next opportunity to spend time with my grown children arises.
Sunday evening featured an equally unlikely outing. Earlier that week we decided to take in the traveling production of the Tony-award-winning Broadway show “Kimberly Akimbo.” Our youngest, a theater kid, is always willing to see what’s on at The Fox, so we didn’t have to twist his arm. “Kimberly” grabbed our attention back in 2022 when our family went to the Big Apple at Christmas and saw several shows. We were intrigued by the ubiquitous advertising, but we couldn’t squeeze it in. Throw in that Harris, our middle son, would be back from Chicago the night before and could join us for this opportunity, and there was no logical reason to say “no” to “Kimberly Akimbo.”
Yes, it required some financial investment, and that must be accounted for in all decisions. But like my day in Athens on Saturday, the return on that investment was priceless.
We enjoyed Doc Chey’s noodles before the show and had great seats on the front row of the mezzanine. Since it was a Sunday show, the start time was 6:30, a little bit earlier to accommodate a school night.
Live musical theater from professionals is always a joy, and “Kimberly” did not disappoint. The theme itself was a reminder I need to say “yes” to more experiences: Kimberly is a 16-year-old girl with a genetic condition that causes her body to age beyond her chronological years. She doesn’t know how much time she has left, and thanks to her criminally-inclined aunt, gets caught up in a scheme to score some quick cash and take a road trip that she might not otherwise be alive to take if she waits until she has earned the money.
Even with the disastrous Wendy’s drive-thru experience on the way home (avoid the “Terrible Wendy’s” on 78 in Decatur late at night if you can), it was a great night out with Carla and two of our boys. I’m so glad I said, “yes.”
Way back in August of 2013, I was in the throes of middle-aged dadness, feeling the stress of overcommitting. I posted this New South Essay at the time. I was managing a job, volunteer commitments, three kids in school and trying to maintain a relationship with my Darling Beloved.
Twelve years and two months later, I am still having to be intentional about my commitments, and if I’m not careful, I’ll “yes” my way right back into a mental health crisis. But I’m happy to report that I have improved. I spent several sessions with a therapist who helped me identify my patterns and make use of tools to prevent overcommitting.
When you are a chronic over-committer, it’s easy for the pendulum to swing too far toward “no.” But in the midst of a busy calendar reaching its fall activity zenith in late October, I recognized an opportunity to say “yes” to something important, and it resulted in a phenomenal weekend.
Here’s hoping you have some phenomenal “yeses” in your future.
What have you said “yes” to that made for a great experience or lasting memory? Share your recent happy choice and inspire others to seize the day…
New South Essays 