There were about 2,500 music lovers at the Lucinda Williams/Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit concert at Little Rock's First Security Amphitheater on Aug. 14.
And one wasp.
Well, only one that mattered.
There might have been more wasps, but I'm only aware of the one that stung me when I casually brushed away something on my shirt. It was in the middle of Lucinda's knockout performance of "Get Right with God," which may or may not have been a signal for me to make amends in that direction.
I'm not an insect magnet; mosquitoes, bees, ants and other bothersome creatures stay clear of me, preferring the more hospitable attractions of my husband (it's said that certain body types emit more heat and carbon dioxide than others, which bring on the bugs; for once, my tendency to feel cold might be worth something).
That's why I was surprised when touching my shirt resulted in a short, sharp pain that made me yelp. The pain faded fairly quickly, and my attention returned to the performers on stage.
Thoughts about the incident quickly faded when Isbell and his fabulous band got busy with their nearly perfect set, playing for almost two hours without any hint of blown lyrics, timing-challenged guitar solos, or ill humor among the musicians. It was a hell of a show that included some of my favorite Isbell-penned songs such as "24 Frames" and "Last of My Kind."
We stayed up very, very late talking about the concert, probably the first time we'd heard live music since the pandemic started. Like Joni Mitchell says, you don't know what you've got until it's gone.
The memory of the music trickled back the next morning, accompanied by the distress of a swelling and itching finger that was the target of the wasp's aim. A few days later, the situation was about the same. Since I wasn't sure of the attacker's species at that point, I didn't commence an Internet search to see what might be going on.
When I finally typed my symptoms into Google, it was surprising that the answer popped up immediately: wasp or hornet. Hornets are bigger than wasps, and I figured I would have noticed one if it was hanging around. So I'm going with wasp.
It turns out that I was lucky; some who suffer a wasp sting can have far worse reactions than an inflated finger, such as swelling of the face, lips, or throat, hives, itching in areas of the body not affected by the sting and scary breathing difficulties.
Thanks to the Internet, I learned that summer gatherings like picnics, fairs, backyard grilling gatherings, and outdoor concerts often attract wasps who, like most of us, enjoy taking advantage of free food (there were lots of food trucks at the concert, and plenty of spent food wrappers in the trash and on the ground) and beverages (booths offering $8 beers and $10 spritzers with tequila were everywhere; finding a bottle of water for purchase was challenging, and concert-goers were instructed not to BYOB).
Wasps aren't aggressive human hunters; according to Erlich Pest Control (jcerlich.com), they sting because they feel threatened. Their venom delivers enough pain to convince large animals and humans to leave them alone. But they are easily annoyed by human behavior, such as waving of arms and clapping of hands. Like you do at a concert.
I'm one of those people who avoids stepping on crickets or beetles and do my best to escort small spiders and flies out of my house, rather than smashing them with fly-swatters or rolled-up magazines. But I would have done in that wasp if I could--especially since learning that wasps do not die after they sting someone.
While a bee has one shot at decimating the human population (its barbed stinger, when fired into the flesh of its prey, disembowels the bee); a wasp can be a serial offender. Its stinger is smooth and does not lodge in the victim's flesh (a puncture wound may be visible after being attacked, but there's no stinger to be removed). The stinger retracts into the wasp's body and is able to extend over and over again. Like a fully automatic weapon.
Worse yet, when a threat is detected, wasps release a pheromone that rallies its fellow soldier wasps. They will pursue a potential threat over long distances and swarm the offender, the entire time stinging repeatedly. Maybe I got off easy.
Karen Martin is senior editor of Perspective.
kmartin@arkansasonline.com