On Saturday night Alan and I drove to Atlanta to attend a concert in the Chastain Park Ampitheatre. Michael Franti and Spearhead opened for Steve Winwood. This was our second concert in Chastain Park, last year we saw Jackson Browne which was amazing. The weather was picture perfect and as the sun set we munched on mufelletta’s and salad, while sipping wine. It was the yuppiest crowd I’ve been with in quite some time, lots of people dressed to the nines, their table settings featured fresh flowers, crystal and lots of gourmet take-out. Michael Franti and his band brought the crowd to their feet, wading into the seats, sipping beers, shaking hands, taking pictures with his new fans. He told stories, prompted concert goers to sing along and created an atmosphere of sheer joy. Winwood was in fine voice, a far more subtle and disengaged performance but the quality of his musicians and the level of talent on the stage made up for his cool demeanor.

My love affair with live music began in 2006 when I attended Bonnaroo with my son and my friend Alison. The outdoor camping aspect of this experience was rough but the unbelievable, seemingly endless music over the 3 days was inspiring and brought me back year after year.

Sitting in Chastain Park on Saturday night beside my husband I thought, “No one has a better life than we do.” The mix of live music, being outdoors, wine and food and sharing this with the man I love is bliss.

The only fly in the ointment was the people who refused to shut the hell up. The couple next to me was enjoying probably their first night out in months, they had just had a baby and I was happy they were out for a date night. I think they should have saved their money however and gone to a restaurant for a nice quiet dinner. That way they could have talked all the way through the evening and not disturbed others who were attempting to listen to music. The ambient talking seemed most intense during the ballads, when I was most attentive and became the most disturbed by the chatter. I simply don’t understand why people would pay $50.00 or more per person to sit and talk while professionals are trying to do their job and entertain you. I’m not a total bitch, I can understand the occasional urge to relay something to your seat mate or snap a photo or shout out during an especially exciting song but when people are talking more or less continually throughout the concert, I tend to get a little pissed.

I wish I was able to tune out ambient noise but I can’t. Maybe it was all those years of wearing headphones and listening and talking for a living but I am distracted and disturbed by random chatter at inappropriate times. I’ve shushed people before and it usually does little good and just embarrasses my husband so I tend to suffer in silence these days. Live music is so special because of the unexpected moments, the connection between you and the performers and the rest of the audience. You miss this when your lips are flapping and you are staring at your cell phone.

So do me a favor, go to a concert this summer, leave your cell phone in the car and remember to listen, be present to the moment and see if you don’t find yourself a little more joyful at the end of your evening.