Switchfoot And Stolen Cars

Last night my 13 year old daughter K and I went to a Switchfoot concert in Nashville. It was the umpteenth time I've seen them live, and I never tire of it. They were amazing, and besides playing most all of their hits and a few lesser known oldies, they managed to do what many bands attempt but fail to do- play a few cuts from their not-yet-released new album and keep everyone engaged. Absolutely wonderful show.

My wife and 11 year old daughter were supposed to come with us, but ended up backing out. A few days before the show we were notified the venue had changed from Nashville’s War Memorial (with somewhat comfy padded seats) to City Hall (SRO). As soon as my wife heard that she would have to stand for several hours she was “out.” My 11 year followed suite.

The show brought back a flood of memories. I was part of the team that worked with Switchfoot up until I left EMI Music last year. It was kind of sad to stand there last night listening to these amazing musicians and vocalist and think about how fast life is moving by. It seemed just a couple of years ago that I got to meet the boys at Charlie Peacock’s Nashville home- when they were young teenagers that barely knew how to write songs and perform. I will never forget that day- chatting with them, amazed at how young they were, eating mediocre barbecue and drinking sweet tea. I knew then, along with several others, that there was something special about these gents, and that they would have many years ahead of them making great music.

After the show, K and I walked quickly back to my car. We had parked around the corner from the venue in a small office building parking lot. We chatted about how great the show was, and wondered why they had not played one of their biggest hits- Learning To Breathe- during the show. As we talked and approached my car, I suddenly realized that it should have been parked in the VERY spot we stood. It was not there.

“My car has been stolen” I remember numbly muttering as my heart sank. I couldn’t believe it. 11PM, downtown Nashville, 30 minutes from home, freezing cold, no car, with my daughter. My wife mentioned I should wear a warmer jacket, but I thought my light windbreaker would be fine.

I looked up, and immediately saw my car, moving away from the parking lot, facing the wrong way. It took a second to figure out what was happening…it was being towed, and there were 2 other tow trucks ahead of it towing other Switchfoot concert-goers that were unlucky enough to stay for the encore like us.

My mind raced- a car was pulling out of the parking lot and I grabbed K and chased it down. Fortunately they rolled down their window, and the young couple amazingly- and a bit reluctantly- agreed to allow K and I to get into their car and chase down the tow-truck. As we raced to catch up, and blew through a stop sign, I noticed my Chevy Suburban doing something very unnatural….it had started moving down the road sideways. Somehow part of the Suburban became dislodged from the tow-truck and it looked like it was about to jack-knife. The tow truck stopped, and as we slowed- and were still moving- I opened the door and jumped out. K followed when the car stopped, and I think I remember yelling out a thank-you to our chase-car driver as I ran the 20 yards or so to my car…or maybe it was K.

5 minutes later, and $65 lighter, I got my vehicle back and headed for home. What a night.