As thousands of Florida residents were evacuating the Sunshine State, yours truly was headed up the coast to Virginia Beach for the 2004 Rock and Roll Half Marathon. Never one to pass up an opportunity to check out hot sweaty guys running their hearts out or free music, and when you toss Sugar Ray and Collective Soul into the mix, it certainly ups the ante. Unfortunately this also meant dragging my sorry butt out of bed at 5:00 in the AM, with the race starting as early as 7:00. But it was definitely worth it. Not only for the visually pleasing muscles but the auditory goodies that were on display. And thankfully, despite the ominous looking sky, the weather held out with only a few light sprinkles and a lot of breakthrough sun!

After watching the start of the race, I headed past the one-mile marker and the first band, Fine Swiss Cheese, I immediately found them pleasing as they chose to play a little 311…so I paused to enjoy. Then I made my way to the nine-mile marker—fifteen blocks away thank you—in case you think I'm a slug just sitting around on my duff while these athletes were bustin' tail! Sure sure, give Siren Kimmie a finisher's medal just for that alone! I trekked along while being serenaded with the sounds of various bands smattering the race route (including Ryan Hines Band, Rock Star Parking and Some Odd Sense) and positioned myself at mile-nine to watch the runners before making my way to the finish line where Dynamohum was performing against a backdrop of surfers taking advantage of the rather tasty waves brought about by the latest hurricane. I walked along the beach barefoot and fancy free as the band pulled out some Sublime and was almost certain I had found heaven.

Touring the shops and strip of VA beach was interesting in its own right. Dodging folks on double-bike-cart-contraptions (or whatever they're called--two bikes affixed to one another with an intricate array of poles and awnings for protect from sun or rain), enjoying the smells from various restaurants and food venders. Of course I had my requisite crab leg dinner at Rudee's on Rudee's Inlet, but the highlight of the visit, aside from the Half Marathon, was the concert festivities for the evening.

Starting out the night was Fallen From Grace, a melodic acoustic rock band who cite influences of Vertical Horizon, Dave Matthews and Dido, but they also toss in a heavier Incubus feeling and a bit of a techno groove. In tow was a bevy of ladies who danced their backsides off and attempted to encourage the crowd to do the same. Quite a peppy mix to get the already half-drunk beach veggies psyched up for the headliners. Keep your eyes peeled for these guys, because we definitely haven't heard the last of them! Sugar Ray took the stage with their signature dynamic presence. Mark McGrath, ever the showman, dazzled the young ladies, some young enough to be his daughters, who yelled endearments of "I love you Mark!!!" or the standard blood-curdling scream causing one to wonder if The Beatles had just walked on stage. They played their hits of course, a bit of Bob Marley in honor of Mark's birthday and began to belt out the beginnings of an AC/DC tune (which one drunken spectator shouted out "Yeah! Metallica!" and made me want to walk over and smack him soundly). It was around this time that I began a casual worry that my cozy sand-free area on the beach was soon going to be trampled by drunks, rednecks and children (one who had a shovel and bucket and looked to be eyeing me as a prospect to be buried). But the lull of the surf and the salty breeze kept my soul calm.

Between shows we were treated with an awards ceremony and a short video recapping the days events. It was fun to see the various "cheerleaders", men in togas, women in big T-shirts with thin bikini bodies painted on them, the Gieco Gecko, blow up guitars, bands, bands and more bands, and ladies and gentlemen running like the wind. Gibson was kind enough to provide the trophies for the winners and the top male and female runners were even gifted with Gibson guitars. Nice! But the praise and glory section of the evening was short lived as they were shuffled off stage for Collective Soul to entertain the only slightly unruly masses.

Collective Soul has been one of my favorite bands for many years and surprisingly; this was my first opportunity to see them play live. Though in my own defense they did take a three-year hiatus. Though, despite the windy conditions, they appeared stronger than ever, completely prepared to tackle this beach with songs off their soon-to-be released new album, and of course their tried and true favorites, including "Gel" and "Shine", which not surprisingly, went over with the biggest thunder. Thankfully, since, as I expected would happen, everyone managed to shove up in front of my area, there was a very large monitor where one could see what was happening on stage. Now, there was a time when I too would be in the throng of pushing, shoving fans, but somewhere along the way, I think I became a grown up. Is that it? Or maybe I've just grown tired of that scene. I found myself irritated by the gaggle of girls next to me that elbowed and bumped, or the folks that used me as a bridge to get two whole feet closer to the stage. All I wanted to do was have my own little space to sing and dance along to the music. Yet drunken boys fell across my blanket and one guy couldn't seem to understand that, despite his climbing up on his buddy's shoulders and making a spectacle of himself, no one was paying him any mind, yet numerous attempts at being the center of attention were made. It wasn't long before I grabbed my blanket, after I found it buried under ten tons of sand, and slipped father back on the beach. It was here that I found my space. I tossed down my things and became the only girl at the back of the crowd singing and dancing, which of course made me completely conspicuous, but us Sirens are used to that sort of thing. From here I could move, I could breathe, hell, I could even see the stage! What a concept! I didn't have to inhale Joe Bob's beer farts and B.O. or the marijuana that wasn't even coming close to giving me a contact buzz (despite deep inhales). It was me, the sand, the belly thumping bass of Collective Soul, the surf and a few less obnoxious fans enjoying the show on their beach chairs. What more can you ask for? Yes it seems I had once again found heaven.

The lesson to be learned here: Don't be one of the crowd! Do your own thing, but for God sakes, keep dancing and sing, sing, sing!

More Photos of Collective Soul and Sugar Ray!
Photos by a stage obscured, wind blown, sand covered Siren Kimmie

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