I was fortunate enough to secure club-level seats to the George Strait concert over the weekend, and there is just really one word to describe the entire evening.

Wow.

Helicopters hovered over the stadium hours prior to the event giving traffic updates to those of us making our way over there. With 60,000 people going in the same location, I expected a traffic jam or two. Surprisingly, there weren't any. Cars streamed toward the stadium without problem. Unfortunately, things weren't well marked, and as we got closer to the stadium, our thoughts turned from,"Hey! This isn't so bad!" to "Where are we supposed to go?!" We made a hard left into Lot 11 and decided that it must be as good as any other. We paid $40 to park in the very back of the lot on fresh sod which looked like it had a slim chance of survival.

We then started the hike toward the stadium. There were seas of concrete and cars between us and the front doors. As we got closer, we found gates that would've let us up to the front faster were closed, so we had to go all the way to the end of the concourse where our tickets were scanned to finally gain admittance. In retrospect, it seems like they could've opened more gates and had the ticket scanners closer to the door. It would've at least cut out a great deal of walking.

Pushing past the hordes of people stopping to snap pictures, we opened the doors and looked at each other. Holy expletive. This place was incredible. Past the (enormous) line of folks trying to buy Strait schwag, we saw rows of seats climbing toward the sky. Blake Shelton's voice was booming while he smiled down on the crowd from one of the "small" jumbotrons (a mere 20 yards wide).

Thankfully, ushers lined every wall, and while they couldn't tell you where you needed to be, they had a map (which was really all we were after). We elbowed our way through the crowd, unmarked doors and stairs that led us out onto the floor which, unfortunately, was not where we needed to be. We then made our way back up different sets of unmarked stairs where we figured out that we were on the correct level, but we still couldn't find our section. It wasn't until we wandered into and out of a tunnel that we saw the sections printed out on computer paper and taped to the backs of chairs. Finally! Our section.

We plopped down in our chairs and looked around. Wow. This place was huge. I'd never seen anything so big. I've been to a lot of concerts, but I had never seen so many people in one place at the same time. Windows around the top (near the ceiling, if you can call it that) let tiny bits of setting sun stream in. Then, we saw it: the biggest HD TV screen in the world. It was awesome. You could see every bead of sweat on Blake Shelton's forehead. This gave a whole new meaning to the words, "up close and personal."

After getting the lay of the land, it was time to grab some adult beverages. Now wiser, we elbowed our way in the appropriate direction where we stood in line for an excessive amount of time while cooks flung food over fire, hollering at one another, cranking out food just as fast as they could while impatient (and slightly inebriated) folks tapped their feet and demanding their items, pronto. Feeling certain that the line would in no way pick up speed, I used this period of time to locate a man with a map and find a restroom which was surprisingly empty and quiet. Ladies, when was the last time that you went to an event with 60,000 people and didn't have to wait in line to go to the bathroom? Heaven, let me tell you. While I dried my hands with Cowboys-branded hand towels, I thought, "Odd that they aren't piping in the concert, isn't it?" Back out in the line (which may or may not have advanced a maximum of two people during my brief trip to the ladies' room), we watched the end of Blake Shelton's set while disgruntled patrons continued to scoff at the excessive wait time and lack of utensils. We weren't too upset until the polite man behind the counter told us (when it was finally our turn) that there was no bottled beer. We stared blankly. "Are you serious?" we asked in disbelief. Come to find out, they had bottled beer ... in their locked fridge! Epic fail, management...

After visiting another (shorter) line and procuring our adult beverages, we made our way back to the seats where we instantly discovered that there were no cup holders. I'm hoping that they haven't been installed yet but are on their way. After we got over the lack of cup holders, we must've spent thirty or forty five minutes looking at and talking about the stadium. For instance – there are boxes on the ground level. If you were there during a game and the players were lining the field as they so often do – could you even SEE the game? Isn't that wasteful? And those folks standing high above the end zone – can they even see what's going on? Would paying less and sitting in the farthest seat away be "worth it" just to say you'd been?

The crowd on our side of the stadium began to rumble with excitement. People were standing, taking photographs, leaning left, leaning right. In the box on the 50 yard line was Jerry Jones accompanied by Troy Aikman and Jimmy Johnson. Other big names included Kay Bailey Hutchison and Rick Perry. All seemed very excited to be a part of this event.

As the sun went down, a low hum started near the front of the stage and rippled into a full-on roar. Band members jogged into place, and with people clapping along, Reba McEntire appeared from around the corner of the stage. I haven't ever had a chance to see Reba in concert, but she was every bit as wonderful as I wanted her to be. She was so charismatic with such a personable stage presence. Even if you'd never heard or seen her before, I think you'd have left the stadium loving her. She smiled during her hour and a half set, expressed her genuine appreciation for fans and sang her socks off. She may be 55 years old, but you would never know it. Her set included new hits like "Strange" and "I'm a Survivor" as well as old singles like "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia." She dazzled us with a medley of her favorite songs and left the stage with the audience clapping wildly. We wondered, "Does an ‘opening act' do an encore?" In short? Yes. Reba came back to the stage having changed out of her down-to-earth blue jeans and sparkly blue top and into a fiery red dress. What song could warrant such a dress? "Fancy," my all-time favorite Reba song.

Thankfully, there was a break between Reba and George Strait which I desperately needed so that my hands, then red from all of the darn clapping, and my throat, then scratchy from all of my squealing and singing and carrying on, could have a break. I squirmed in my chair, giddy like a three year old at a petting zoo, reeling with excitement from Reba's performance.

And finally, as we all settled into our seats, it was time for George Strait. George took a slow stroll to center stage dressed in one of his starched signature shirt and jeans. I guess 30+ years in this business will give you a confidence I can't fathom: 60,000 screaming and clapping with excitement, just to see you. He didn't waste any time and launched immediately into new songs and old favorites, everyone clapping and singing along. From the camera flyovers, you could read Strait's set list which spanned three columns on a large piece of paper. Does that give you an idea of how big the screen is that hangs in the center of the stadium? You can read the set list from a camera fly over. A few songs into his set, he talked about how the stadium was, "pretty damn incredible," before encouraging the crowd to chant, "Jerry, open the roof!" And after twelve minutes, the two plates that had been overhead slid aside.

George Strait is an entertainer who doesn't disappoint. He plays classics that everybody knows the words to and new songs nobody has heard before. He even covered Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues," as part of his encore. Applause didn't die, either, as he walked across the stage waving and bowing. When he flicked his hat out into the audience, everyone on the floor squealed with delight.

Here's the real question, though. Was an evening of the biggest country music performers in the most talked about stadium worth the $150 price tag?

It was worth every penny.