I have been following a guy on social media named BlazakR. A little while back he proposed an idea of before any conversation between liberals and conservatives happen, that the question be asked about the first concert the people attended. The theory is to have a connection before the differences of opinion intrude. Makes the conversation go better because you see each other as people first.
Randy's first concert was the Beatles. How cool is that? I think he trumps my Queen. Although I still think my Queen is pretty damn cool itself. Then he pointed out how we only remember the big things. The out of the ordinary things. We don't remember what we had for dinner six weeks ago on a Tuesday, but if there was another incident that happens, we might because of the other incident.
My brain jumps to the Oregon Grand Slam 1983 with Journey, Sammy Hagar, Bryan Adams and Sequel. I don't even know who Sequel is/was. I wasn't there for them. The Grand Slam was held in the stadium in Eugene. I have to back up. The week before that concert I got a flat tire. My spare was then on the car, and my dad told me to get my tire fixed. Can you guess where this is going? I did not get the tired fixed before the concert.
I drove to Eugene with my two friends. It was a hot day. We had a blast at the concert. Decided to leave before the Journey encore so we could beat the traffic out. We are in a city that we don't know. The way the parking was we could only get out of the grass was if we went over the curb. I made it over the curb and was then high centered. Wait...what? Got out and realized that the car was high centered and the spare tire was flat. I know how to change a tire, but that knowledge doesn't do any good if the tire in the trunk is also flat. There we are with a high centered car and two flat tires. The concert ended and people left. This is before cell phones, and I was a teen so no triple A.
Along came Mike. A guy from nowhere. He asked if he could help. Yes. First things first. The flat in the trunk needs to be fixed. Turned out there was a gas station about a mile up the road. Back then it wasn't just a gas station. They could actually help you. So, he and one of my friends rolled the flat tire all the way to the station and got it repaired. It's like midnight now. They rolled it back and I'm sure that was a lot easier than rolling it to the station. He jacked up the car and changed the flat tire with the repaired tire. The car was no longer high centered and we could go. Turned out Mike was looking for a ride and how could we refuse after all that. As luck would have it, he was from Vancouver also. We all made it home fine and I let him drive because I was exhausted by that time. We got home at like 3 in the morning.
I never told my dad about not fixing my flat. Seriously what are the odds of having two flat tires in one week? I did not tell my dad about the guy who rescued us and then I let him drive my car. The one rule was no one else drives the car.
I also never got the tell the story because one of the friends who was with called out at work claiming we were stuck in Eugene until the morning because of the car situation and it was too late to get the tire fixed. Totally ruined my story.
This story probably would not happen today. Society has changed and people don't trust each other. That night we were beyond grateful for Mike. And it does make for a good story.
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