This must have happened around 2007 or so. It had been several months since Pop’s quintuple bypass surgery and he was getting stir-crazy at home. My parents asked me if I would drive them to Pigeon Forge, TN. Back then, they were hammer-locked into a timeshare. I have complicated feelings about the Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge area. I love the roadside attractions and the kitschy souvenir shops. I also love driving through the Smoky Mountains and visiting the National Park but I hate timeshares. I wasn’t a big fan of Dollywood or Dolly for that matter, but as I have grown to respect Dolly Parton, and I will sheepishly admit that I love “Hard Candy Christmas.”
I’ve mellowed over the years, and my hot takes on culture have cooled down significantly. Sure, there are plenty of things I don’t like in this world, but I have learned to let people like their own crap. So trust me when I say that the following is not an objective critique; I’m just saying that I despise Country Music Theaters and would probably bite my foot clear off my ankle to avoid going to another one in this lifetime.
To me, country theater shows are cliché and formulaic, as if they all belong to the same denomination and practice a similar liturgy. These theaters understand that their audiences are full of families—sons, daughters, parents, grandparents, cousins, in-laws, and friends of the family—and they pander to every demographic in the room:
- For the Kids: A silly forest ranger, or a hillbilly, or an old prospector, and maybe someone in a bear costume.
- For Everyone: Something from the Statler Brothers or “Elvira.”
- For the "Alcoholics": “All My Rowdy Friends,” “The Thunder Rolls,” and/or “Friends in Low Places.”
- For Momma: “Mama Tried” or “Thank God for Kids.”
- For Dad: An Elvis medley.
- For the Patriots: “God Bless the U.S.A.,” followed by a standing ovation for the veterans.
- For the Christians: “Amazing Grace,” ending with “May the Circle Be Unbroken.”
- Goodnight, please exit through the gift shop.
Don't bother with fact checking, I nailed it.
I’ll confess that I am a cynical person, especially when someone uses faith or patriotism for profit. The old saying, “You’ve got to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything,” is true—but only to a point. When folks use that “something” as a litmus test to discern who to let onto their “safe list,” they fail to understand that bad actors with bad intentions love to use that same “something” to take advantage of that trust.
Technically, there is nothing dishonest about a country show. You pay for a show, and they give you one. Sure, acknowledging the veterans in the audience is a nice gesture, but giving them a discount to buy a video recording of the program from the gift shop would be a better gesture—and I’d have less reason to doubt their sincerity.
Anyway, back to the story. Since I was the family chauffer that week there seemed to be no way out, I would need to take my folks to a country show. I begrudgingly rifled through a stack of tourist brochures for all the shows playing in the greater Sevier County region. I picked a Christmas show, since I figured there would be no way to squeeze Lee Greenwood into a Christmas show.
We get to the theatre and I learn that most of the cast was Liberty University drama students, which made me nervous, but tas far as I can remember everything seemed ok. That all changed in the final act when the curtain rose on a quaint little small-town backdrop with ladies dancing to holiday music. From stage right, appeared three men—one each for the Army, Navy, and Marines—wearing dress uniforms and singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” I couldn’t believe it, they made “I’ll be Home for Christmas“ patriotic. I was uncomfortable seeing guys who were not in the military in dress uniform, but what do I know, it’s not like I haven’t seen Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson in dress uniform before.
Then the backdrop turned into an enormous U.S. flag, and the host introduced his new song, “Merry Christmas America.” Son of a... this was pandering on steroids. Let's not mence words, this was an offensive manuever for the "War on Christmas." I thought the cringe was going to overtake me until a Christmas miracle happened before my eyes.
The theater had three stages: a center main stage and two side stages. From the right side stage, a man appeared holding a large bald eagle. From the left, a man with a heavy leather glove appeared holding a delicious-looking bass. Apparently, they hadn’t starved the eagle that day, because once it left its handler, it had no intention of flying to the man with the fish.
The bald eagle swooped over our heads, circled the auditorium 2 or 12 times (who’s to say), and then dove down like it was going to snag a small child from the audience. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying. Thankfully the eagle landed in a vacant row of seats. The majestic beast shot a glare at its handler as if to say, "No we're not doing that right now. I'm listening to "Merry Christmas America. Oh and tell the Liberty kids if they want to wear a dress uniform, they're still young enough to enlist."
The instrumental to "Merry Christmas America," continued playing as the as the owner/performer stood silent and motionless on the stage. Once he realized no one harmed, and he was not going to prison for harming an endangered species, he began to laugh. Not so for the fish-handler who was frantically slapping at his glove and waving a wet fish around, pleading for the bird fly back to the stage. It eventually did, though the it still didn't seem too excited about the fish or life back in captivity. Then there was me, in a place I didn’t want to be listening to music I didn’t like. I had sacrificed for my family that evening, and heaven smiled down on me.