Brandi

The weekend before last, Jarrett's brother, Stephen, was in town to again help Jarrett and Tim make some more progress on Tim and Kate's shed. They were quite successful, as they finished the main structure except for the doors, which Tim and Kate finished up in the following days. I had purchased tickets months ago to the Brandi Carlile concert at The Tabernacle, and since Stephen also digs on Brandi and was going to be in town, we though it might be fun if Tim, Kate, and Stephen joined us for the show. Because Tim and Kate were going to be our babysitters for the evening, I scrambled to find a babysitter and luckily scored the teenage twin girls who have watched Elsa in evenings past. However, on all of those other occasions, Elsa was already in bed by the time we left the house. Because we did not have assigned seats at the concert, we needed to leave a bit before Elsa's bedtime, meaning this was the first time the girls had to attempt putting her down. I use the word attempt because, well, as I feared, it did not go well. We were still waiting in line outside The Tabernacle when Jarrett checked his phone and saw that he had three messages. After listening to the frantic, tearful messages from the twins, we quickly called them back. Even though it was barely Elsa's bedtime at this point, the girls claimed they had tried everything and that Elsa was still screaming and they just couldn't get her to stop (and they weren't lying about the screaming part -- I could hear her wailing in the background). One of them asked me if it might help to take her outside for a moment. At first I thought it was a strange question, but then thought, yeah, why not? I had tried the trick many a time before, and sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't. "Just be sure," I told them with much emphasis, "to not lock yourselves out." We had pointed out our crazy doorknobs to them in evenings past, as they seem like they are unlocked from the inside when they are, in fact, locked from the outside. Sure enough, they called back less than ten minutes later:

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's [E]."

"Hey there. How is it going?"

"Well, taking her outside seemed to help a little -- she isn't crying quite as much."

"Well that's good. So you're getting her to calm down then?"

"Yeah... but we sort of locked ourselves out."

Fabulous. Jarrett had already decided before hearing this news that he was going to go home and help out. I was a little nervous about this because Elsa has had some serious separation anxiety lately, and often I am the only person that can calm her down. But I also did not want to miss this show -- not even the opening act, as it was Amy Ray from the Indigo Girls, one of my most favorite bands. However, I also didn't want Jarrett to get stuck there and miss the show himself. I am also fairly adamant about where I sit in The Tabernacle. It's my favorite venue in Atlanta, but that is due in part to where I've sat nearly every time I've been there -- first balcony, stage right, in the closest row to the front I can get. And to get that I have to practically run up the stairs and beat everyone else. So, Jarrett decided to take one for the team and ran home, taking Kate and Tim's car, as we all road together, hoping something like this wasn't going to happen. The parking lot attendant seemed fine about letting Jarrett leave and come back. In the meantime, I did run (though it turned out we had plenty of time), and we scored seats in the second row.

When Jarrett got there, he said he could hear Elsa screaming at the top of her lungs. He found the three girls on the back deck, Elsa in a diaper and her pajama shirt, but no bottoms, the girls still in tears. Jarrett was a hero and was able to calm Elsa down by bathing her, reading her a book or two, giving her some of a bottle, and settling her down in her crib. The girls' parents had arrived not too long after Jarrett made it home, and they stayed around for awhile after Jarrett headed back just to make sure Elsa stayed down. Jarrett made it back by the tailend of the opening act (after being troubled by the parking attendant who said it would be fine for him to come back), and we did not get another call for the rest of the evening.

The concert was fabulous. I feel like I've waited too long now to really express what I was feeling that night, but what I can say is that Brandi really knows how to put on a show. It started out with Brandi and the band doing a number huddled around one microphone with just a ukulele, and she did one song solo and completely acapella. They also did a rockin' rendition of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues." And those were just a few of the highlights. I was hoping for a surprise appearance from Elton John since he recorded with her on the new album, Give Up the Ghost, but apparently he was out of the country. Darn it.

As for Amy Ray and her solo band? They were okay. I think I much prefer her Indigo Girls work, but I still liked a couple of the tunes. After her opening act, there was much (quiet) commotion in the area we were sitting, as Emily Sailers (the other half of the Indigo Girls) made her way over to the reserved section to our left. There was a poor couple sitting in the seats in front of me who clearly had no idea why people were making such a fuss over this lady. I so wanted to lean over and say, "Do you know who that is? It's Emily, for cryin' out loud! Emily -- from the Indigo Girls!" I know many people probably aren't nearly as crazy over them as I am, but they were literally the soundtrack of my high school years -- and college too, for that matter. I spent many a beautiful evening cruising down the Blue Ridge Parkway, windows rolled down, singing right along with one of my many Indigo Girls CDs. I almost decided to get a photo taken with Emily since Kate offered up her phone to do so, but I decided not to hassle the poor lady any more than she already was. We did luck out and get one performance out of both her and Amy with Brandi, but it would have been fabulous if they had joined in on more.

For an evening that started out somewhat rocky, it ended wonderfully. Things could have been much, much worse.