If you venture inside my dad’s house you’ll quickly realize that he loves the Allman Brothers. Actually, when I was knee high to a bullfrog I remember drawing mock-Allman Brothers album covers for my dad to hang in his motorcycle building… and to this day those doodles still hang above his motorcycles.
So, when my dad called me in January of 2016 and said; “I’ve got a couple Gregg Allman tickets, wanna go?” The only acceptable answer was; “YES!”
So, on January 8th, 2016 my dad and I loaded up the car and hit the road for an adventure.
Actually, it’s kinda funny…. The shirt I’m wearing in the photo is my dad’s. He bought it in 1993, during the Allman Brothers Summer Tour.
Needless to say, the Gregg Allman concert was absolutely amazing. It was truly a show to remember. We got tears in our eyes during “Melissa”, screamed our heads off during “Midnight Rider”, danced as hard as we could during “Love Like Kerosene”, and snuck into the front row during “Whipping Post”. I even got Gregg Allmans’ set list at the end of the concert; which was phenomenally cool.
But that wasn’t even the best part… the best part was the road trip; the memories that my dad and I made. Oh, the stories of that trip. Stories that I will absolutely never forget. Hilarious stories. Stories of shenanigans and debauchery. Stories that I will indeed tell over, and over, and over. Stories about a father and daughter taking an epic road trip to see a legendary concert. I would share some of those stories with you now, but I don’t think the internet could handle them… plus, they’re better told in person anyway. I promise…
So, moving on… Yesterday I was standing in line at a local coffee shop when I read about the passing of Gregg Allman… and, without even thinking, I quickly stepped out of line and called my dad.
I must admit, I’m truly saddened by the passing of such a talented artist… and I’m so very thankful that his concert brought my dad and I closer together.
I don’t have a beautiful conclusion to this post… Except that I’m sad, and thankful… So, I’ll just end it with this;
“Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whippin’ post.
Tied to the whippin’ post, tied to the whippin’ post.
Good Lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.”
Love, the Uncustomary Housewife… aka, Elizabeth… aka, My Father’s Daughter.