What Happens in Vegas: A Country Convert (Kinda)

When I told people we were heading to a Garth Brooks concert in Las Vegas, the reactions ranged from bewilderment to outright laughter. “YOU like country music?” they asked as if I had just announced my plans to take up competitive bull riding. Look, I get it. I don’t exactly scream ‘country girl,’ and my playlist is more likely to feature 90s alternative than honky-tonk. But when it comes to Garth Brooks, all bets are off. I have always liked his music.

Michael and I arrived in Vegas with our walking shoes and the excitement that can only come from being kid-free for 24 hours. After eating at a delicious Vegan restaurant called Modern Vegan, navigating the sensory overload of slot machines, neon lights, and people trying to hand me flyers for things I can’t mention in a family blog, we checked into our hotel. Garth’s concert is at Ceaser’s Palace and Michael has never stayed there in all his years coming to Vegas, so that is where we stayed.

As we approached the venue, I felt a little out of place among the sea of cowboy hats and denim. But the moment Garth stepped on stage and started strumming that guitar, all my insecurities melted away. The man knows how to put on a show. He sang all the hits, and yes, we screamed along to ‘Friends in Low Places’.

It turns out that you don’t need to own a pair of Wranglers to appreciate a country legend. So, while I may not be trading in my sneakers for cowboy boots anytime soon, Garth Brooks officially has a spot on my playlist. And if you ever see me blasting ‘The Thunder Rolls’ in the car, just join in. You know you want to.