Flo Rida to perform at Tennessee Valley Fair
On Tuesday, the fair announced that Flo Rida will be performing at this year's upcoming fair on Thursday, September 11 at 8 p.m.
Remembering David Hodson: Knoxville veteran who led 150 Marines to Iraq and back dies at 76
'From 'My House' to 'Right Round'—this is a show guaranteed to get the party started,' the Tennessee Valley Fair wrote on social media.
The American rapper and singer-songwriter is known for his breakout single 'Low' and had multiple radio hits between the late 2000s and 2010s. His latest album, 'My House' has seven tracks including the title track and 'I Don't Like It, I Love It' featuring Robin Thicke and Verdine White. Recently, he also released 'Bad Idea' featuring That Mexican OT in late April 2025.
Tickets to the concert go on sale on Friday, May 23 at 10 a.m., however, members of the Tennessee Valley Fair Foundation get early access to presale tickets. Concert presale contributions help fund a scholarship the fair offers, according to the fair's website.
Could the Tennessee Valley Fair leave Chilhowee Park after more than a century?
Tickets to see Flo Rida start at $64.90, and include admission to the fair, giving concertgoers the opportunity to enjoy the food, rides, entertainment, agriculture and all the other aspects that the fair has to offer before attending the show. Admission to the fair is usually $12 for those over the age of 12, with admission for children aged 6-11 and seniors over the age of 65 being priced at $9. For children 5 years old and younger, admission to the fair is free.
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Tick-tock. This gives me a little hope. Hope comes in many forms: When I hear the songs of the civil rights movement at our marches, a soft gong sounds. The poet Jack Gilbert wrote, 'We must admit that there will be music despite everything.' Ever since I heard the author Caroline Myss say that when darkness and evil go nuclear, love and hope must go nuclear too, I started getting occasional manicures with glittery polish, to remind me. There was a nail salon in the first strip mall I passed. I went in. It seemed crowded, and I turned to leave. But the nearest manicurist said, 'Pick a color.' I said, 'No, no, you seem busy.' 'Pick a color!' she demanded, so I leapt to the polish station and picked a sparkly pale pink. An old woman came lumbering out from the back room toward me with a bowl of water. I dutifully fished out $25 from my purse, five of it tip, and put the fingers of one hand into the bowl of warm water. When one hand free, I scrolled through the links on my phone — the usual stuff, the government taking away health insurance from the poor and protecting American jobs by causing mass starvation around the world. The salon had grown incredibly hot. What hasn't? I smiled remembering Sen. Jim Inhofe tossing that snowball around on the Senate floor as proof that there is no global warming. God, the absurdity. Absurdity! A light bulb went on over my head in that salon. That's what we're missing. I realized that this was one solution to the cruel mess and the endless, depressing analysis. Yes, we will take to the streets at every opportunity, care for the poor and pick up litter. But we also, desperately, need to begin laughing again. And who does absurdity better than Monty Python? Monty Python says what we already know, that yes, it is all hopelessly stupid, cruel and unfair, but their making it silly delivers joy and buoyancy. We can grip our heads, fight back and laugh at it and them. And nothing agitates narcissists more than people laughing. Think of how confused our most prominent bullies get when people laugh at them. Bullies rule by fear. Humor is fearless, a bubbly form of hope. Remember the 'Upper Class Twit of the Year' award? And 'Self-Defense Against Fruit'? Aren't people in flag-draped lines voting to lose their health insurance and their basic rights reminiscent of folks queuing for crucifixion in 'Life of Brian'? The cheery, 'Line up on the left, one cross each'? Laughter and those jaunty songs break up the armor that we think protects us. When we're softened and jiggled, we're open to a shift from tight and clenched to the recognition of shared humanity, and underneath that a glimmer of shared possibility. When we don't see anything on the menu that we like, we can at least remember — as Monty Python taught us — that the Spam, egg, sausage and Spam sandwich has not got nearly as much Spam in it. 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