A Double Debacle

Debacle: a sudden and ignominious failure; a fiasco

Double: times 2

On December 23rd, I decided to do something very spontaneous. Fast thinking and fast action are not my norm, but it was 2 days before Christmas, and I was feeling festive. I was with my new daughter-in-law Acacia for the afternoon because our men were out duck hunting.

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It was currently 2:15pm, and we were already traveling toward Nashville from a family visit in Clarksville. My heart rate increased slightly when I cautiously asked,  "Feel like going to the Amy Grant/Vince Gill Christmas concert at the Ryman?"

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Conveniently, the concert started at 3pm. Perfect timing!

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Acacia, who lives life in the fun lane, said, "Sure! I'm definitely down for that! I love Amy Grant, but I'm not sure who Vince Giller is." I smiled. (Sorry Vince Giller; I'll introduce your legendary voice to her soon enough.)

It was decided; we were in! While Acacia drove down the interstate, I booked our tickets on-line, quickly put in my credit card information, looked it over, and then hit "purchase"--$135 cha-ching, $135 cha-ching. Whew, spontaneity can be costly! Meanwhile, I waited for the confirmation email that provided the two tickets.

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Debacle #1: I waited and waited for the tickets to be sent to me, but they never came. After a little research into my on-line order, I realized that I mistyped my own email when booking the concert. NOOOO!!! This meant that our combined $270 tickets were floating around somewhere in cyberspace.

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Not to be defeated, we decided to park and get in line for the concert anyway. After all, I could show them my proof of purchase in spite of not having the tickets, right?

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Debacle #2: It turns out the tickets I purchased on-line were from a 3rd party that the Ryman was not accepting for this particular concert. NOOOO double way!! Yes, the concert was a no-go.

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My heart rate was now near flat.

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Of course it was drizzling outside, so we went back to our $50 parking spot, and sat together in the car to discuss what we should do about this "sudden and ignominious failure; this fiasco." We made a phone call or two to cancel the tickets, but to no avail. But because we were in downtown Nashville, and because we had this gold-lined-parking spot for several hours, and because it was the most wonderful time of the year, we decided that the show must go on in some way.

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That's how we ended up at the Frist Art Museum. A little down and a little dazed, we walked around and observed the art, we appreciated the art, and then we ourselves did some hand's on art. Now I'm not an artist like my daughter-in-law, but I am a fighter, and I was absolutely going to have a jolly good time, sitting there, sketching the life size mannequin soldier that stood before me, all the while resisting the thought of Amy Grant and Vince Giller singing "Winter Wonderland" in perfect harmony down the street.

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Lost in my black and white sketch marks, the clock struck 5pm. The Frist was closing. It was time to put our pencils down and exit.

As Acacia and I walked out of the art museum and onto the downtown lit-up city streets of Nashville, we chuckled about the unexpected unfolding of our afternoon: the paid-for concert that almost happened; the memory-in-the-making that did.

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Then, right there on the street corner, spontaneity hit... I took my soldier sketch that I was holding in my hand and waved it eagerly above me, saying,

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"Anybody want to buy some art for $270?"

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PS To finish this story on a positive note, my husband Mac, who has become quite used to my debacle-lifestyle, was extremely gracious to me when Acacia and I came in the door that night, asking how the concert went. Bless him (again). And not only that, later in the week, he was able to dispute the charge and cancel the credit card transaction altogether. So he saved the day! Maybe I should thank him by taking him to a concert at the Ryman! What do you think?

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