I only went to one concert this summer. I know, so anti-buzz board of me. But, the one I went to made up for all of the others I might have missed. On July 2, a few friends and I (including the wonderful sports director, Ryan) ventured to Lewiston, New York to see O.A.R perform at a venue called Artpark.
Ryan and I hadn’t visited since school let out, so I couldn’t have been more excited (In case you don’t know, Ryan and I are dating). It was partially because I had just purchased my car, Jaws – that’s her name. Somehow, I had a reputation for being a not-so-great driver, and I wanted to take this 45-minute trip as an opportunity to prove myself.
Unfortunately, we left the house at approximately 4:50 p.m. If you’re used to city driving, you can probably guess where this is going. That liberating 45-minute cruise ended up being a painful, almost two hour war between me and the other cars squeezing over the Grand Island Bridge. The only thing that kept me from turning around and wishing I hadn’t volunteered to cart everyone there were the sweet sounds of O.A.R. whispering through my speakers.
I liked O.A.R. before Ryan convinced me to see them in concert. But, I’m sure a true fan wouldn’t have agreed with me. Of course, I could belt out the lyrics to “Shattered.” Nonetheless, I knew very few of the songs that didn’t premier in Disney’s “Aquamarine” or on “The Secret Life of the American Teenager.”
All of that would change in a few hours though. Once we arrived, after I blew Jaws a kiss and prayed that she didn’t get towed from our illegal parking spot, my pals and I found an open patch of grass to claim as our own. And so – it began ☺
After two opening acts and a few too many picture attempts, the stage lights stretched over the hill we stood on. At last, O.A.R. was in clear sight.
For each song, the whole crowd did the classic head-bob, knee bounce, casual clap concert dance move… except for the girl in front who twerked for the entire three-hour show. But, she was an exception. From the looks of it, it could’ve been an average concert that you tweet about but never mention again. But it wasn’t.
Each lyric, each chord, felt so personal and relatable. During a song called “Heaven,” I mouthed the words, “I love O.A.R.” for the first time, and I meant it.
I’m not sure if it was specifically the song that stood out to me or just how peaceful and perfect the moment was, but from then on I’ve considered myself a true O.A.R. fan. I wouldn’t trade that one concert for any others I could’ve splurged on this past summer.
News Director, 88.3 WSBU The Buzz