64°f, about 18°C, light clouds all day. Warmed up to about 82°, with humidity returning late in the day.
The Vince Gill concert last night in Charleston was excellent. His band included some really standout musicians who performed smoothly as a team, and at one point Gill turned over the stage to some of his band, letting them do a song or two to show their talent.
At the end, singing the song I waited all evening for, Go Rest High on That Mountain.
One of the things I liked best about Vince Gill--his willingness to share the spotlight with others. Another thing I really liked was his storytelling; he told the origins of his songs, who inspired him, and shared anecdotes about special people in his life who have passed on. I came away feeling like this was an extraordinary man, who, besides being a fantastic musician, had the ability to find the exactly the words to make his stories come alive.
He also interacted easily with people in the audience, and they loved it. And bless his heart, he knew where he was! You would not believe how many big stars come here and think they are in Virginia. It's funny and sad at the same time.
But before the concert, we checked in to our hotel, and found there were some interesting people staying there: men and women who work in the prison industry, who were attending a conference on prison rape, of all things. I had to ask them to repeat that; I was astonished to learn that the problem is bad enough that these guys had to get together for a week of training to deal with it! Most of the attendees I saw were black, and I wondered if this is typical of their career field. One guy was from very near where I grew up in Virginia, and he and Larry got into a long conversation about Northern Virginia that included a lot of laughter!
Meanwhile, I was talking with a white guy from South Dakota who was assistant warden at a juvenile facility. He was fascinating, telling me about his years in the Air Force as a Combat Controller--which, he explained, was equivalent to a Green Beret, and basically meant that he "blew things up and killed people" (his words). Geez, what a way to describe it. Google tells me this: "Combat Controllers (CCT): Wearing the Scarlet Beret, CCTs are heavily trained in expeditionary air traffic control, assault zone assessment, and command and control of air power in hostile environments. They operate directly alongside the Army's Special Forces."
This guy told me that he thinks his greatest accomplishment was helping to find and free 150 children who had been taken from their parents, somewhere in Africa. I wish I had clarified when and where, but he showed me photos of him with the children, and described the feast the village prepared in thanks---which included a camel killed on the spot! A huge bowl of camel milk was also passed around, and every person there drank from it---which may have been the reason he was sick for a week!
This man's's tales of his growing up years, being molested, being in a gang and in juvenile detention himself, are, he said, how he reaches the kids in his facility, telling them that if he survived and did well in life, so can they. This peek into worlds I know nothing about was fascinating, unnerving, and haunting. Here was this guy, smiling and telling me about raising his kids after his wife left, ordering a Ruben sandwich and drinking beer like any other man, packing such heavy memories and yet working to give troubled kids a chance, hope for a better life. I hated to leave this conversation, but it was time for us to get to the concert.
When we returned, we were startled to find a raucous party going on outside the hotel. A group of the conference attendees were out there with a karaoke machine, singing, laughing, drinking, and talking. They invited us to join them, and I almost said sure, why not? But then I realized these people were relieving the stress of their week and probably their jobs, they were bonding and forming friendships they would carry back home with them. We were outsiders, and needed to stay that way. I was okay with that.
We were soon back to our humdrum life--home to feed the critters, then off to Ohio to pick up from the most recent auction. It was a good break, one that made me appreciate even more this simple life we have here in our hills.
