Stevie who?

That was about the response from Jennifer, as Gary and I proudly told her this week we were taking her to a Stevie Wonder concert out at the White River Amphitheater in Auburn.

We had an extra ticket. Did she want to take a friend?

"None of them know who Stevie Wonder is, or care. It's only the old people that go and see him anymore. I don't have to go, do I?"

Well, since we already bought the ticket, yes you do.

While standing in line last night, waiting for the gates to open, Jennifer was taking stock of the line demographics.

"See, what did I tell you? Old. And white. What is with that? Didn't you say he was black? What songs does he sing again? Can I at least get some food?"

This stream of consciousness went on until we got inside the gate, and purchased her some $4 bottled water and a $8 hamburger. Once the concert began, fashionably late at 8:30 pm, some of the old folks, in the racially diverse crowd (she finally saw some folks who weren't white) began to dance, vigorously, in the grass, where we were, as well as in the stands.

Jennifer glared: Don't you dare.

I admit, it looked as if some of the dancers were going to drop of exhaustion before the end of the night, or hit someone in the face with their gyrating arms. It was mostly jazz and his new stuff, but toward the end, his golden oldies came out. And then Jennifer didn't want to leave, even when Gary and I threatened to dance.

She also started receiving texts from outraged friends who realized that she did have a ticket to the sold out concert, they loved Stevie and why didn't she invite them!