This story is going to need a bit of context. In the summer between 5th and 6th grade, my dad relocated our family to St. Clairsville, OH. You see, the job he was working in Louisville (the one that caused us to move here from Canada) was about to end. After searching around and interviewing with various companies, my dad found a job in his career field in Shadyside, OH. Shadyside was a quaint town located on the Ohio River, a left over from the once-booming coal mining business that used to define the area. Now it was more of a manufacturing hub, and wasn't exactly the best place to raise a family. So we found a house in St. Clairsville. It was a short drive to Shadyside and was a much nicer town to live in.
It made sense to move there from our family's perspective. Even though I was starting to adapt to living in America, we still viewed ourselves as Canadians temporarily working and living in America. So moving to Ohio meant the rest of our family was only a 6 hour drive away, rather than a 10 hour drive. In the summer between 5th and 6th grade, I said goodbye to my neighborhood friends and moved to St. Clairsville.
Middle school was a tough time for me. I found it hard to make friends. People in school seemed reluctant to include me in their social groups. Groups that, because of the small size of the St. Clairsville community, had roots deep in their childhoods and strong bonds that they feared would break if they allowed the new, weird kid from Canada to participate. I had my parents, I had my dogs, and that was about it. I befriended one of my dad's work buddy's kids, but we didn't really have similar interests and I found it hard to really consider him a "friend." So I mainly kept to myself.
The house we moved in to was pretty nice. The basement was fully finished and was basically designed for entertaining guests. It had a pretty cool wet bar that looked out into a big open room that was split in half by a really nice (and huge!) stone fireplace. On one side of the fireplace my dad setup the couches and TV, and on the other he set up his stereo.
The house we moved in to was pretty nice. The basement was fully finished and was basically designed for entertaining guests. It had a pretty cool wet bar that looked out into a big open room that was split in half by a really nice (and huge!) stone fireplace. On one side of the fireplace my dad setup the couches and TV, and on the other he set up his stereo.
Oh, that stereo. I love that stereo. A sleek looking Kenwood that had everything you needed. 6-CD changer, double cassette player, AM/FM tuner, turntable, an amazing amplifier, and two four foot high speaker towers with enough juice between them to blow women's clothes off. Or, in my case, enough power to knock down a Lego tower. But I digress. That stereo is what I remember using to play all of my music back when I started caring about it. That same stereo sits in my living room today, and is used almost daily to sing out groovy tunes, wailing guitars, masterful raps, and harmonic melodies.
Since I was a lonely kid, I turned to music to occupy my time. It was the first time I remember listening to something and actually thinking that it spoke to me. I'm sure you will all agree that the 90s was a great time for music. I listened to everything from R.E.M. to Nirvana to Chili Peppers, and even dipped into my dad's classic rock collection. However, I think my favorite artist back then was "Weird" Al Yankovic.
Since I was a lonely kid, I turned to music to occupy my time. It was the first time I remember listening to something and actually thinking that it spoke to me. I'm sure you will all agree that the 90s was a great time for music. I listened to everything from R.E.M. to Nirvana to Chili Peppers, and even dipped into my dad's classic rock collection. However, I think my favorite artist back then was "Weird" Al Yankovic.
"Weird" Al was great. His music was upbeat, hilarious, and always seemed to improve my mood. I think I owned all of his CDs released up until that point. Bad Hair Day was my ultimate jam. So I got really excited in the summer of 2000 when my dad informed me that "Weird" Al was coming to Jamboree in the Hills. Everyone in St. Clairsville knew what Jamboree in the Hills was. It was the biggest thing to happen to St. Clairsville. Hotels would be packed with country music fans, and for that weekend, St. Clairsville turned a buzzing resort of country lovin', cowboy hat and boot wearin', yee-hawin' friendlies. So I excitingly told my dad that I'd love to go.
On Friday we loaded up a cooler full of drinks (beer for the adults, Capri Suns for me) and headed to the Jamboree in the Hills. A coworker of my dad had a sweet spot set up. The layout of Jamboree was pretty cool. A huge soft grassy area in front of the stage was reserved for people who wanted to stand and watch the concerts. This was the area notorious for bare-chested women, drugs, and, in general, where all the good fun was to be had. Behind that area was a large walkway, and then behind that was this gentle up-hill slope that people could stake out with tarps and canopies and things like that. We were front and center of this area.
It was fun for me to just people watch while some of the country music stars were going on. One of my favorite passer-bys was a man lugging around a huge cooler on a wagon. He was wearing a t-shirt that had the words "TITS FOR BEER" stenciled on it. It was a couple seconds later I realized that cooler was full of beer, and that if women wanted a free beer, all they had to do was flash the guy. I was 13 years old, saw my first pair of boobs in real life (even if it was only from the side for a brief moment), and caught my first glimpse of true genius.
"Weird" Al came on in the late afternoon. It was amazing. He played all the songs I loved, and even the adults seemed to be enjoying his set. I remember he played "The Alternative Polka" and I couldn't help but get up and dance. It was during his concert that I realized how awesome live music is. Thank you, "Weird" Al!
After his set was over, I begged my dad to buy me a t-shirt. So we both grabbed a drink (him a beer, me a Capri Sun) and made our way to the merchandise booth. My dad got me this sweet "All About the Pentiums" t-shirt, which I still have to this day. While at the merchandise booth it began to rain, so we made our way back to the spot to take shelter under the canopy.
We got to the canopy just in time. It began to POUR down rain. A few people asked if they could take shelter under our canopy. I had no say, but the adults I was with didn't seem to mind. And that's when it happened. That's when I fell in love. I didn't even catch her name. All I remember is this beautiful, young woman dashing into our canopy from the wall of rain and grabbing a beer that one of the adults offered. She was this gorgeous girl, maybe in her early 20s, wearing absolutely nothing except a yellow raincoat and three tiny strips of duct tape strategically placed on her body. She saw me admiring her and drew closed her raincoat, but not without flashing me a smile first. And not without me getting a good look at what was going on underneath that raincoat. I never got to really talk to her (other than a lame "hey"), but she'd occasionally take a break from talking to adults to look over, see me staring (I'd call it admiring, but in hindsight...), and smile some more. Not long after the rain let up, she left, and that was that.
It was fun for me to just people watch while some of the country music stars were going on. One of my favorite passer-bys was a man lugging around a huge cooler on a wagon. He was wearing a t-shirt that had the words "TITS FOR BEER" stenciled on it. It was a couple seconds later I realized that cooler was full of beer, and that if women wanted a free beer, all they had to do was flash the guy. I was 13 years old, saw my first pair of boobs in real life (even if it was only from the side for a brief moment), and caught my first glimpse of true genius.
"Weird" Al came on in the late afternoon. It was amazing. He played all the songs I loved, and even the adults seemed to be enjoying his set. I remember he played "The Alternative Polka" and I couldn't help but get up and dance. It was during his concert that I realized how awesome live music is. Thank you, "Weird" Al!
After his set was over, I begged my dad to buy me a t-shirt. So we both grabbed a drink (him a beer, me a Capri Sun) and made our way to the merchandise booth. My dad got me this sweet "All About the Pentiums" t-shirt, which I still have to this day. While at the merchandise booth it began to rain, so we made our way back to the spot to take shelter under the canopy.
We got to the canopy just in time. It began to POUR down rain. A few people asked if they could take shelter under our canopy. I had no say, but the adults I was with didn't seem to mind. And that's when it happened. That's when I fell in love. I didn't even catch her name. All I remember is this beautiful, young woman dashing into our canopy from the wall of rain and grabbing a beer that one of the adults offered. She was this gorgeous girl, maybe in her early 20s, wearing absolutely nothing except a yellow raincoat and three tiny strips of duct tape strategically placed on her body. She saw me admiring her and drew closed her raincoat, but not without flashing me a smile first. And not without me getting a good look at what was going on underneath that raincoat. I never got to really talk to her (other than a lame "hey"), but she'd occasionally take a break from talking to adults to look over, see me staring (I'd call it admiring, but in hindsight...), and smile some more. Not long after the rain let up, she left, and that was that.
Over a time span of only 15 minutes I experience both love and heart ache. And when she left, I felt sad inside, but somehow also accomplished. Maybe it was the fact that I somehow mustered up the courage to say "hey" to her, or maybe it was just that she acknowledged my presence by smiling at me. Whatever it was, it had me feeling like a real man. I decided to puff up my chest and strut around like I was hot shit. I think I may have even asked for a beer, not that any of the adults would've given me one anyways. So instead I reached down into the ice cold depths of the cooler and picked up one of my Capri Suns. Hands stinging from the cold water still on them, I stripped that yellow straw out of it's clear wrapper, punched it through that hole, and chugged that thing down with such vigor that anyone watching knew I was a man in my element.
And so it goes. If "Weird" Al wasn't on the artists lists for that weekend I never would've went. And if I never went, I never would've experienced my first love. So thank you, "Weird" Al. Thank you, Jamboree in the Hills. And most of all, thanks dad, for giving me all kinds of great music to listen to and taking me to see my first concert and my first set of boobs.
And so it goes. If "Weird" Al wasn't on the artists lists for that weekend I never would've went. And if I never went, I never would've experienced my first love. So thank you, "Weird" Al. Thank you, Jamboree in the Hills. And most of all, thanks dad, for giving me all kinds of great music to listen to and taking me to see my first concert and my first set of boobs.
While that concludes my story, I'd like to take a quick second to comment on just how stacked the Jamboree in the Hills lineup was that year. It was the All Star game as far as country music goes. Some of the artists included:
Alabama
Gary Allan
Gary Allan
Kenny Chesney
Billy Ray Cyrus
Lonestar
Martina McBride
Neal McCoy
Jo Dee Messina
Montgomery Gentry
Brad Paisley
Kenny Rogers
Randy Travis
Comedians Rodney Carrington and Tim Wilson (RIP Tim)
And The Beach Boys and Lynyrd Skynyrd!
Sadly I didn't get to catch Lynyrd Skynyrd as a very bad storm rolled though before they were set to go on. Tents had collapsed, and even some buildings suffered damage, so we decided just to head home. Turns out Skynyrd waited for the storm to die down then took the stage and put on a hell of a show.
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