I was really excited about this when I heard about the concert, Van Morrison at the Ryman is one of those dream concerts that you never think will happen. The Tennessean even called it a “miracle show.” Such a big name, such an intimate setting.
At any rate, this morning, armed with a cup of coffee and my internet connection, I bought tickets. The sale started at 10:00 am, so I started by making sure that I had the exact, correct time by checking the National Institute of Standards and Technology’s time.gov, the clock by which most computers in this country and around the world set their watch by. (I also do this to check-in 24 hours before any Southwest flight I may be on, so I know exactly for certain that I’m in the A boarding group. Anything less, and I’m inconsolable.)
At 10:00:00, I reloaded the already-loaded-and-logged-in Ticketmaster page. I selected the quantity, 2, “Best Seats Available.” Now I had already seen where there were two prices for tickets, $125 and $85. I already knew that the $85 dollar seats were for the Ryman’s famous “obstructed view” seats, and I knew that I was going to be paying full price anyway to make sure we’ll have a good view. I waited…the page reloaded.
Two seats came up, MF-1, Row S, seats 3-4. I clicked buy, got my confirmation. Then I went to go look at where these seats really were.
“Limited view.” What?
Were those really the “best available seats” at 10:00:05 am this morning? Sure sure, the absolute best seats are always for the VIPs, I know that, I understand. But limited view, right out of the box? Not to be a conspiracy nut, but I’m now convinced they sell the crappy seats first to the people who will just feel lucky to be there.
It’s OK, I’m not upset. I don’t want anyone to think I’m complaining. There are no bad seats at the Ryman.
I’m just glad that Van has put some weight on over the years, he’ll be easy to see, even from behind that column.