SHARING THE SHOWS
As if the four shows I did last week weren’t enough, I did one more. Maggie, a star in this blog’s inaugural post, rode with me to pick up Johnny Mac in Williamsburg before we hit the road. Traffic was rough on the way to Williamsburg (I think they’ve been doing construction on I-64 for about two years now), but we made it. I have this four-disc compliation, 30 Trips Around the Sun: The Definitive Live Story 1965-1995, of live Grateful Dead tunes that consists of a live song played each year for all thirty of their years. As we pulled into the Silver Diner just two miles from the venue, we sang the “Scarlet Begonias” from October 3, 1976 at Detroit’s Cobo Arena (I can’t help citing; I just love these little historical tidbits).
The diner reminded me of my youth in New York, going to diners for meals with family, as well as at 4 a.m. after many late nights out with friends. I had a chicken sandwich with fries; perfect preshow carb load. The little jukebox had tunes from the 50s and 60s, such as “Mr. Sandman,” “Love Potion No. 9” and the pre-psychedelic Beatles. As we’re playing on our phones, Maggie said, “I think we need Mark here.” Mark is arguably the most extroverted of our tribe; conversation never stalls with him around. Anyway, Thanks to Johnny’s handicapped sticker, we were able to park super close to the venue. It’s not a very popular one among us Deadheads. The venue banned Shakedown. Shakedown essentially consists of booths selling wares like jewelry, T-shirts, food, and, ummm, devices. It’s also as corporate-looking a landscape as you can find. My whole attitude: beggars can’t be choosers. On the way into the show, we ran into people we know, including Billy, Evan, Ken, Dawn, Ivan, John "Trip," and a bunch of others who sorta blur together for me. So we found our spot stage left. A couple of Johnny’s friends were “stage right” as we found later, and I had to mention that “stage left” and “stage right” are the directions used when you’re on the stage facing the audience. I have Ms. Fialkoff, a prominent figure from my high school theater days, to thank for teaching me that one. J Dark Star Orchestra is a Grateful Dead tribute that reenacts Dead shows in their entirety, note-for-note. Part of the fun is trying to guess what show they’re playing, which you can do in a heartbeat if you Google something like “shows that started with Foolish Heart” into your phone. I prefer to keep guessing until the end, but that’s just me. Anyway, they opened with “Foolish Heart.” My first guess was late 1980s at the earliest. “New Minglewood Blues” was next. The following dialogue ensued: Rob Eaton: There’s tea right here in Richmond Me: Hey, they said our town’s name! “Blow Away” is beautiful, and the first time I had seen it performed live. “So Many Roads,” “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” and “Bird Song” are meditative. The band closed the first set with “Man Smarter, Woman Smarter.” I do fully believe women are smarter; it’s actually based in science, which I explained to Maggie on the drive home later that night. During setbreak, “Respect” and “Liberty” played over the loudspeakers as a tribute to Aretha Franklin, who passed away that morning. The second set opened with “Here Comes Sunshine.” I observed that the Grateful Dead crowd is a lot more mellow than the Phish crowd. Many hula hoops in the audience, but no glowsticks. “Keep on Growing” grooved, as did “Corrina” (I’m in the minority on this one, but I LOVE that 90s tune). When “New Speedway Boogie” played, I reminisced about Dead and Company’s version of this song from last year’s show in Bristow, during which I flailed about on the lawn, shirtless, essentially having a religious experience. Speaking of which, I went shirtless at some point during the second set. Security had ordered me to put it back on when I came here last year, so I knew I was taking a risk at being tossed out for indecent exposure. But they weren’t gonna find me in the dark among all these hippie figures. Bwhahahhahh… “Drums/Space” always provides a space (pun intended) for me to get water. “I Need a Miracle” came next, followed by “Not Fade Away.” During “There Comes a Time,” I meditated while lying on Maggie’s blanket. During my meditation, one of Johnny’s friends, who shall remain nameless, interrupted my meditation by yelling, “Don’t sleep, brother! This is the best part!” My response, “I’m meditating!” He backed off. I still didn’t care for that; one of the golden rules at a show is you don’t trample on someone else’s good time. But, now he knows. I did get up to dance for “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad,” during which I had trouble finding my shirt. Fortunately, it was under the blanket. I wonder how the hell it got there, but the important thing is it was there. We all knew it was an elective setlist (they were all over the chronological Dead map), but they announced it at the end. “The Weight” encored the show. Truly amazing. This show concluded my summer of concerts. I do have these concerts to thank for helping me reconnect with my writing. Since I started this blog, I’ve made some nice headway on my screenplay, written a number of posts for my other blog, published a short guide to academic interview etiquette on a colleague’s professional blog, and I’m taking notes for a memoir to come about my experience as a professor. I mentioned on my last post I may be ready to move onto a new phase from all the traveling I’ve done over the summer. That phase may very well involve writing. More will be revealed…
0 Comments
So a note about that picture: Mark was trying to get a natural shot of me dancing, but I caught him first and had to photobomb him. And that’s Jesse with the ponytail and the tye-dye. J
Getting up on Sunday morning was rough. I had a pretty bad case of indigestion from those late-night nachos and that late-night cheesecake (don’t make that a regular thing). So coffee was my breakfast, and after checking out, the “bro crew” went to Potbelly’s Sandwich Shop (my first time there). I felt the need for something healthy, so I went with a turkey and swiss sandwich with a garden salad on the side. After this, we went to Patapsco Valley State Park for a short hike (0.8 miles). We did a steep walk toward a river, and went for a walk toward some railroad tracks. After this was dinner at G&M, where I had a delicious crab cake, a baked potato with sour cream, and broccoli (gotta get those green veggies in). Mark introduced me to the Flip Wilson sketches; he is a true fountain of cultural knowledge. During the day, I was literally running on fumes. If I were a cell phone, I’d have been on 2% battery power. I love traveling and shows, but they really do take a lot out of you. Once we headed to the parking garage (located on Divided Sky Lane), Gary asked Jesse if he could take a nap in his car while we toured the lot. I decided that was a good idea and followed his lead. I dozed for about 10 minutes before heading in. Once I got in, Mark surprised me with a shirt that reads “Your Pet Cat” along with a cat holding a 40-oz malt liquor and wearing a baseball hat turned sideways. Phucking phunny! I had gotten a Pavilion ticket, so I spent the first set seeing how the upper crust lives. It was old school (“Llama,” “BBFCFM,” “Meat,” “Alaska,” “Tweezer” “Bathtub Gin,” “Curtain (With),” and “Chalkdust.” I was pleased that Jesse got his “white whale”: “Curtain (With).” During the second set, I decided to groove on the lawn with my bros (I don’t really see them that often, so I have to make the most of that time). “Tweezer Reprise” opened the second set, followed by “No Men in No Man’s Land.” I went to a stand to get water, only to find out they ran out of it (WTF!?). So I got the fruit punch Gatorade (never drink your carbs!). “Twist” was next, one of my favs. “Prince Caspian” followed. During “Piper,” the dreadlocked dude nearby asked me, “are you writing the setlist?” He had been observing me and my notepad. I typically do it on my phone, but I was trying to save power, and my friend and writing partner Christina Campbell, a prolific writer (check out her memoir, “And Sarah His Wife”), inspired me to buy a little notepad to write down little observations and thoughts, just like I did in college. We shot the shit for a few minutes. He has two cats and lives in Fredericksburg. This shirt is going to come out at every Phish-related event I attend from now on. “Backwards,” “2001” and “Harry Hood” closed the second set. During those harrowing minutes before the encore, Mark proposed a moment of silence for our bro Drew, who couldn’t make it. Since they played four encores, Mark said in jest, “I’m not leaving until I get five.” They did three: “Heavy Things, “Bug” (one that always has me tearing), and “Tweezer Reprise.” Never miss a Sunday show indeed. And now that the summer is near closing, I think I’m ready for a three-day nap. Extensive traveling was fun, but thanks to these shows, along with some help from Christina, I have a greater connection with my writing than I have in a long time. I’ve decided it’s time to slow down on the shows and the traveling and devote more energy to writing (don’t worry; to my audience of five or six, there will still be blogs here). A big congrats to Mark, who with his lovely girlfriend Sheila, is moving onto a different phase by ending his 17-year stay in his apartment and putting a down payment on a house. We all go through different phases in our lives; change is hard, but it’s phucking awesome. So this trip was different than the rest of the ones on my blog in that this one focuses on the “bro trip” more than the actual show. It started off when I picked up Mark and Gary in Newport News, then headed to Jesse’s in Poquoson. From there, we were off. I enjoy solo traveling, but bro trips are entertaining, even when done on the traffic-laden highways of Virginia and Maryland.
The conversation on the ride up consisted of a wide variety of topics guys talk about, such as furries, bronys (guys who like “My Little Pony”), clopping (Google it), the commonalities of R. Kelly and Donald Trump, Ponderosa (they’re still in existence!), Leonard Nimoy’s side hustle as a pop singer (check out “the Ballad of Bilbo Baggins” for a good laugh), and the usual salty sex talk. I was also exposed to some good jams on some new shows I’ll have to check out (12/5/09 in Charlottesville, when a naked guy jumped up on stage, and 8/31/12, where the setlist spelled out “Fuck Your Face,” and then Phish followed with a song bearing that same title. And now a funny story, one that you just can’t make up. When he got to the hotel room, Gary was messing around by closing the frosted door to the bathroom and rubbing his chest up against it. I thought it would be funny to take a picture and then send it to him. Of course, I have a few Garys in my phone, and I sent it to some rando I may have met at one point but haven’t been in contact with since. I found this one out when the original Gary asked me to text him the picture, to which I replied, “I did.” He hadn’t received it. I showed him the number to which I sent it, to which he replied, “that’s not my number.” D’oh! From there, we all cracked up, me especially. I then received a text from Gary #2, “what the hell?” I then had to explain the situation to him and apologize. No response from there. Finding parking was a challenge. Jesse had reserved Lot 3, only to find it was closed. So much for making reservations and planning, habnabit! We finally got into a tiered lot, and we had to drive seven floors just to find a space. But we found one. And once we got in, we got chicken wraps, which tasted eerily like the ones they serve at McDonald’s (the last time I had one was several years ago). Anyway, when we got to the lawn, it was packed. Fortunately, we found spots near the concrete walkway, so dancing wasn’t completely done on a slant. They started out with “Blaze On,” one of my favs, followed by “Party Time,” another gem. I’m different toward “Breath and Burning,” but I love “Sugar Shack.” As I was dancing, I realized these shows are like fountains of youth. We’re all essentially the same age. I also dug the dude wearing the Rush T-shirt from the Fly by Night tour. You just don’t see a ton of those at a Phish show. Rock on! “Home” had me skingasming; it was my first time hearing it live. “Joy” is always a pleasure, as are “Stash” and “46 Days.” Mark, a Virginia local who’s been to MPP several times, pointed out the sound seems to be clearer since they fixed the roof and made it lower. I have no basis for comparison, but I dug the sound quality. What I didn’t dig, though, was the guy saying “nice tits” to a woman as he passed her. She blew it off, but I’m disappointed to see that at a Phish show. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though, seeing what happened at the Gorge. “Sand” started the second set, and I LOVE “Mercury.” During “Ghost,” my stomach started to rumble a bit, so I got some garlic parmesan fries, and I gotta tell you, those fries were WAY better than those “sad fries” Melissa had. “Fuego” was cool, and by that point, Jesse and I had moved toward the back of the lawn, while Gary and Mark were hanging stage left. There were a lot of kids on the lawn. As a person who prefers the company of cats to kids, I found myself thinking, Hellwoooo, Chester. “Slave” was a beautiful end to the second set, and Phish busted out FOUR encores, the most I’ve ever seen in a show, and they were all winners: “Twenty Years Later,” “Martian Monster,” “Rocky Top,” and “Golgi Apparatus.” I’m hoping for “Your Pet Cat” tomorrow, which is about my cat/son Chester. Getting out was fun, too. We essentially moved about 50 feet every minute or so, down six levels. I was pretty wired from the show and even more so once we got to the Cheesecake Factory. Mark got something called “Craig’s Crazy Carrot Cake Cheesecake.” I joked about how it was named after me, but instead of getting my namesake, I got a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cheesecake. I swear, there’s nothing those folks can’t do with cheesecake. And, as I promised, a special thank you Judy at the Cheesecake Factory located at 10300 Little Patuxent Parkway in Columbia, Maryland for taking the time to take our picture. You captured a meaningful moment, and as Mark said on the car ride up, “we got good music and good friends.” Day 2 of Phish. After enjoying some Pho food, walking around the terminal library, and learning about the history of the Liberty Bell and advocacy it inspired with my friend Melissa, we picked Amy up from the hostel and drove to the venue. We got to the parking lot and were met with a charge of $40. Now that’s taking advantage if I’ve ever seen it. But hey, when you’re catering to an audience that loves to party in the lot, you can pretty much make your price. Like I said yesterday, gotta make that money!
I got a little stressed before the show when I got a text from the person to whom I sold my ticket for the Raleigh show, saying they hadn’t gotten it. I had paid extra to get it to her place by noon on Wednesday. Fortunately, I got another text the next day saying that she did get it. However, as I was told I’d get a full refund on the ticket if it didn’t get there on time, I do believe the USPS will be getting a phone call from me when I get back home (I’m on the train going through Alexandria, VA as I type this). Amy ventured into the pit with the other elites, while Melissa and I got food and headed to our spot on the lawn. She got a bacon cheeseburger and French fries, which she described as some “sad fries.” Of course, I munched on some of them anyway, and they were stale AF. Anywho, the first set started out with some older stuff (“Moma Dance,” “Free,” “Undermind,” “Theme” and “My Sweet One”). All tunes I dig, but not my favs since Phish has evolved to 3.0. Then, they busted out “Steam,” one of my favorites. “Train Song” was mellow, “Halley’s Comet” was groovy, and I fell in love with “Everything’s Right” when I saw it with Drew aka Brometheus on the first night of the Baker’s Dozen last summer. They had a helluva jam before closing the set. Melissa and I wandered around during setbreak before finding food. She dug her cheesesteak, while my jumbo cheeseburger took a while to cook. In fact, “Julius” started just as I got it from the stand. It was a pretty sad burger, but this audience isn’t particularly demanding, so whatever. I’ve loved “Carini” ever since I heard it open my third show on 12/5/99 at Rochester’s Blue Cross Arena. In fact, next May 2, I’m gonna post the following on Facebook, “the thesis that I wrote was a load of shit, but I’m glad I finally finished it.” I don’t think it was, but May 2 was the day I defended my dissertation at UTEP and officially became Dr. Wynne in the eyes of my students and colleagues. Just because I have a doctorate doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of humor. “Set Your Soul Free” had me jumping around, and I love “Wingsuit,” but it’s not a tune to dance to, so I chose to hit the bathroom. Apparently, others had the same idea, because it looked like a “Drums/Space” segue from a Dead show at the facilities. Once I got back, I lay down on the ground to look at the sky. Sadly, no stars. In hindsight, I could have walked toward the left to admire the view of Philly, but oh well…next time. “Scents and Subtle Sounds” was next; my favorite part is the opening guitar riff, while the rest is just okay IMO. “Waste” nearly brought tears to my eyes, and brought the memory of me playing it for my ENG101 students this past fall, both on my guitar and my laptop. Students compared and contrasted both versions in preparation for an essay exam in which they would write a comparison and contrast of two elements. “Split Open and Melt”is always welcome, as is “Character Zero.” They encored with “Suzy Greenberg,” during which I spun around and did a windmill with my arm a la Pete Townsend (fun note: I have a femme fatale in my screenplay named Susan, and her AOL InstantMessenger screenname is SusieG. It takes place in 1996). I walked Melissa to her car before heading back to that crazy line to the ferry. More interesting people-watching, including the drunk girl who had three Ubers cancel on her while she waited on line. I had a cool conversation with two guys in front of me, one who may be interested in a job as a professor of film. I gave him my e-mail; whether he follows through with this CV is on him, but phamily does help each other out. On the ferry, everybody sang along with Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” and Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline,” chanting “So Good! So Good! So Good!” and “Bomp, Bomp, Bomp!” And when we got off, naturally, it started pouring. The walk wasn’t too bad. I got a late-night pizza slice, which I clutched on the walk back to the hostel. I mean, I can’t have a greasy slice getting even MORE wet. Philly phucking rocks. I had a nice run at Penn’s Landing, which has quite the picturesque view of the Delaware River. I bopped around Philly (where it was definitely sunny and hot AF), writing and exploring. Amy’s train was supposed to get in at 5:30, but public transportation can be a bitch, so we met outside our hostel at around a quarter to 7. After devouring some authentic Philly Cheesesteaks, we hopped the ferry across. Now, I’m the kind of person who needs to be told things explicitly. The following conversational exchanges took place as I paid for the ferry ride:
Me: where I do place my credit card? Clerk: Oh, just in the trey below. Me (after getting wristbands): Where do we wait for the ferry? Clerk: Just behind me. While waiting for the ferry, we ran into my friend Chelsea from back in VA, along with her sister Ashley, where we talked music on the ride over. As we parted ways, I saw them buy those PBTM tickets for $30, and I was thinking, I shoulda done that! Oh well, next time. Amy had Pit tickets, in close proximity to the band, while I made my way to the lawn. We missed “Crowd Control,” a tune I’m pretty ambivalent about, so I wasn’t too bummed. “No Men in No Man’s Land” is an okay tune. I might have been upset about missing “Blaze On,” which contains some sage advice: “You’ve got one life, blaze on.” At that point, it began to rain (“and the rain came down”) and blazes of lazy lightning (pun intended) came down. I came underprepared (no poncho, no hat), so the rain hit my head. Not too hard, just a little annoying. Yet, the rain seemed to ignite the “dancer” in me. Feeling bloated from that Philly cheesesteak and greasy cheese fries (along with some of Amy’s onion rings), I wasn’t feeling the dancing spirit, but it’s amazing what a little rain can do. Amy texted me, “note to self – do not down a giant cheesesteak and then stand in a hot ass pit.” LMAO. The rest of the first set was pretty mellow, sans for the “Infinite” I had never heard before, “46 Days,” and “David Bowie.” All in all, pretty chill. The second set opened with the best “Down with Disease” jam I had ever heard, but I recognize the halo effect taking place, as I was present to see it. “Backwards Down the Number Line” is always boppy, “I Always Wanted It This Way” doesn’t quite do it for me, “Miss You” nearly has me in tears, and “Light” is one of my top 10. I’m normally not super crazy about “Mike’s Song,” “I Am Hydrogen,” and “Weekapaug Groove,” but this one did it for me. They encored with “Show of Life,” during which I was in a reflective state about all the things in my life. Phish shows do that. Another highlight: two separate dudes who had to be tripping on something wanted to talk to me about something I couldn’t quite comprehend. I must have one of those faces that says, “ you can tell me anything, I won’t judge you.” If this academe thing ever fails, I may have to become a bartender or a therapist. For real. My method: give them a high-five, smile, and slowwwwwly move to a different spot. And toward of the back of the lawn, there are plenty of them. After some confusion about where we were meeting, Amy and I met up outside the venue post-show and waited on a long-ass line to get the ferry back to Philly. My guess is that the people at the ferry aren’t used to such a big crowd coming from other areas to see the shows, which is why there’s only one. Typically, the last one leaves a half hour after the show, but they said “they won’t leave anyone behind.” Hey, gotta make that money somehow, right? Anyway, someone ahead of us said, “we’re gonna need a bigger boat.” I now have to go back and rewatch Jaws. Amy told me the story about how she won a battle against her daughter’s principal. He had banned her from wearing leggings because “no athletic attire is allowed.” Amy told her no problem as long as he applied the same rule to boys wearing gym shorts. And she won. #badass She sent me a blog posting about it, and as a result, she’ll be speaking to my Advanced Writing students about writing as social action in November. My students will love it. We pondered getting food, but there wasn’t a whole lot open that sold soup (Amy’s craving), and I needed to get to bed so I could be ready for a work-related phone call the next morning. I recently served as Interim Chairperson for my department at school, and I was ecstatic to receive an e-mail from the new (hopefully permanent) Chairperson wanting to ask me for some information. I pretty much passed out as I soon as I hit my pillow. One night down, one to go. Postscript: in a phone conversation, my friend Maggie had asked me what my favorite concert venue is. It WAS NYC’s Beacon Theater, due to its rustic appearance. But now that I’ve seen the skylights of Philly light up, I have to say it’s the BB&T Pavilion. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
April 2024
Categories |