Almost awesome.

As a last minute invitee I went to an outdoor concert in Park City.

I went on a whim.

I went to see the reputed father of rock and roll, of whom it was said, "Of all the early breakthrough rock & roll artists, none is more important to the development of [this] music." The same man responsible for the original version of The Beatles' "Rock and Roll Music". The man who made the duckwalk famous. A man whose name I hadn't heard until that night...

Nevertheless, I was excited to add my voice to the famous refrain of "Go Johnny, go, go." So, I...went.

I went to see Chuck Berry. In concert. For free.

Immediately I could tell that the night was going to be quite a treat. Imagine your grandfather - your 83 year old black grandfather - dressed in a bright red sequined shirt, complete with gold bolo tie and white navy cap, on stage strumming a vintage Gibson guitar. You'll understand then when we quickly tried to find a good spot on the hill why rabid drunk elitists would politely yell, "Down in front!" So we grudgingly laid our blankets down way way in the back...and then decided we'd rather go stand in the designated "standing area" anyway. Take that, disgruntled hippies. And it was fun. Chuck forgot his words from time to time. I did the twist. He did the duckwalk. And then he called for 12 ladies to join him on stage.
...My wing-woman had gone to the bathroom. I was frozen in entertained anticipation, waiting to see if anyone would actually take him up on it when my new found friends broke my false composure with their hearty encouragement. I bolted. I earnestly ran through the crowd, ducking and weaving, Rachel suddenly at my back...and then I hit a wall. Or something that felt like a wall. It was actually a short, stocky woman - the kind that Carhartt clothing is made for - dressed in a large muted orange sweater. I apologized for running into her and then moved to go around her. All I had to do was duck under the rope and I was at the stage. I was almost there. I found her in front of me again...and again. Somehow she was matching me step for step, I'm pretty sure without actually moving. Time was running short and history was on the line so I left propriety amidst the crowd and pushed rudely past her. I ran towards the stage knocking over someone else's drink just out of principle. I got there just in time to be denied by security.

Denied by security. I stood there for awhile in disheartened disbelief staring at what might have been. Then I was ushered away from the small crowd at the front of the stage by some ambitious medic. She poured salt in my wound.

My friend and I walked back to our group. Two dejected wives of Lot. I didn't even get to hear Johnny B. Goode.