SHARING THE SHOWS
Correction from last night’s post: I popped Maggie’s Phish cherry. She’s now officially a wook.
Fred crashed on my couch last night. I was up until 2:30 writing on last night’s show but still managed to wake up at 8, same as always. I was foggy, rather groggy, but Fred and I made it to the car and to Waffle House, a Southern staple. I’ve eaten here once in the time I’ve lived here, so it’s cool that an out-of-town guest got me out of my comfort zone a little bit. I ordered the All-Star Special, which consists of eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, and waffles. A total carbfest. What was amazing was that I managed to eat the whole thing. Phuck it, it’s Phish, right? Fred, a language scientist from Rockland County, New York, was a good conversation partner with respect to the differences between how New Yorkers talk and how Southerners talk. I’m a bit of both. I taught him the phrase “’preciate you,” which I’ve adopted as a Hampton Roads resident in the last year. It’s a marker of the politeness that governs Southern values. There’s also “bless your heart,” which marks the passive-aggressiveness of some aspect of Southern values (“You won’t bless my poor heart again” was another Phish lyric that came up, as was “You won’t steal my crab cakes”). Later on, Jesse and Drew met us at the Cove, this kickass seafood place that’s a two-minute walk from where I live. We talked music, communication sciences, and more music. The drive was painless, and Fred was able to sell his ticket for $50. And he showed me how to use that Pindrop feature on my phone. I’ll never lose my car again! And nowwwwww…the show. After giving Ashley our hugs, Jesse, Drew, and I attempted to find five seats inside, but to no avail. Note to self: get to Coliseum early if you hope to find a group of seats of more than one. But the floor offered a different perspective. I felt “in the mix.” Once Mark arrived, the show could actually start. J The show started with “Stealing Time from the Faulty Plan.” From there, I heard a new one (or a new tone to me): “Skin it Back.” “Brian and Robert” was mellow, “Timber” and “Simple” were energetic, and it was nice to finally hear “Mexican Cousin” live. I LOVE “Camel Walk” live, which is where I do some serious high-stepping. “Back on the Train” has a great rhythm, and “I Saw It Again” evokes images of Mike Myers coming back to kill Jamie Lee Curtis forty years later…bwwhahhahah.. During the setbreak, I caught up with some awesome folks:
Set 2 started with “Waves,” which is always welcome. “Rise/Come Together” had me grooving, as did “Light.” And now we get to “The Line” and “Wingsuit,” which hold a special meaning for me. When Fuego came out in stores in June 2014, I wasn’t going to shows (again, in long story), but I felt the need to get the album. My sight of the Hampton Coliseum had awakened the dormant Phishhead that resided in the recesses of my soul. I played it over and over, and I had that album playing when I got an e-mail from Hampton University with the offer later. I’m 90% sure “The Line” was playing. But, anyway, that album holds a special place in my heart. “Your Pet Cat” played, which I insist is about my cat/son Chester (later, I would receive a text from Kelly that read “Chester!”). He is a big beautiful black animal, and each day, when I come home from work, he rubs his sleek fur against my leg. It’s like the voice from the “Thrilling Sounds” album peered into my house every day between 5:30 and 6:30. The lights started shaking, and I had to look around to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I guess cats make some people shake, particularly when they start clawing at you maliciously. Me, I still love them (shout out to ailurophiles such as Gary, Christina, Elizabeth, Nicole, Mark, and Sheila, and my apologies to all I’ve neglected). “What’s the Use?” is equivalent to the Dead’s “Drums/Space” sequence for me, so I hit the bathroom. Apparently, I was in the minority because the bathrooms were empty. There was that one guy that said, “What’s the fucking use?” Agreed, brother. Agreed. “Possum” came on to close the second set, and “the rain came down” in the form of confetti. The band encored with “More,” which always gets me thinking of that wonderful video Kelly Morris did. It so enraptured me that I had to have my students critique it for its verbal and visual arguments and ask Kelly questions about her process. (Kelly, whenever the band plays “More,” your name goes in the blog. You’ve earned it). After “More” was no more (pun intended), I was about ready to exit, but I was in the minority. The crowd screamed and cheered, and lighters went up. The band obviously read the energy because they came out with “You Enjoy Myself,” which boasts some of the most profound lyrics I’ve ever heard: “Boy. Man. God. Shit.” Seriously, though, that’s some talented musicianship. When we met at the show, Jesse and I remarked that he wore his “YEM” shirt (written in the IBM-like font) last night and I wore my “Your Pet Cat” T-shirt (a Cheshire-like cat wearing a backwards hat and drinking a 40). The next night, our mind control powers would prove effective, as they played both songs. As we waited for Fred, we joked that he was waiting for a third encore (SUPER: 10 Hours later CUT TO: Fred saying “one more song” as he’s on the verge of passing out). Some final thoughts: it was fitting that this run happened at the very halfway point of the semester, which is when I could use a break. And it happened right when I submitted my first draft of my dossier to my Department Chairperson for review. After many hours spent selecting, writing, printing, and organizing over the past month, on top of all of my other work- and life-related responsibilities, it was nice to get a break. And it was great seeing current friends (Drew, Mark, Jesse, and Fred) and making a new one (Kelly). As I walked out, I felt like I would tear up. Tomorrow, it’s back to life, but it was a nice breather. And only two more months until the next Phish show. Woo-hoo!
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A personal note: I took some NyQuil before going to bed last night, and ended up rolling out of bed at around 10:30. I planned to do some grading today, but my body essentially told me I need a break. It makes sense with all the work I’ve been doing with this dang portfolio.
Anyway, after writhing about and drinking some soup and tea while finishing last night’s blog post, I went to pick up my friend Kelly from the airport. She sold me a ticket to 12/31/17 at MSG for Face value, and we’ve been Facebook phriends ever since. So, when she responded to my “less than 24 hours till Phish” posting with a question about whether the Coliseum allows backpacks and I responded by telling her no, I had to offer to let her stash her bag in my car. Awesome person, high-energy, very upbeat. I had to introduce her to the Cove’s She-Crab Soup. Phish Joke #1 of the day: There was a “Wedge” salad, and we hoped Phish would bust out “The Wedge” (“We’re bobbing on the surface, and the shadow glides below”) I gave her a poor man’s tour of Newport News (City Center, the fountains), as our time was limited, my cold was rampant, and it was raining. After a nap, I helped her get some stuff from her bag so she could prep to meet a person from whom she was buying a ticket for the show for Face (a tough one to get on this particular occasion). Phish Joke #2: “I’m foggy, a little groggy, but I’ll help you to your car.” My new nickname from her is the Stash Dangler; as I was helping her get her bag out, I said, “I’ll try not to dangle your stash.” Rule of threes! Once Kelly’s shift was offer, Maggie was on duty. We drove down to Mission BBQ, a local fast-food barbecue chain with which I wasn’t familiar, to meet Drew, Jesse, and Mark. I enjoyed some nice brisket, Maggie’s Mac and Cheese, green beans, cornbread, and a Diet Dr. Pepper (I don’t normally drink soda, but phuck it, it’s Phish). My buddy Fred from Rockland County, the place of my inception, came down from New York for the shows, so Maggie and I waited for him. After he downed some nice-looking turkey, we drove through the orange cone-adorned street to park on a grassy knoll. As I was looking for a landmark with which to locate the car, Fred introduced me to “pindrop,” where you could pinpoint your location on the phone. Phucking brilliant! After some phishing around, we found Drew, Jesse, and Mark in some seats on the second tier. Before the show, I went to the venue, and this is where I’m going to gripe: Through a lot of soul-searching, I’ve come to the realization that I don’t want human children; I like kids, but when I come home, my cat/son Chester is enough (“your cat is a big beautiful black animal”). I have no beef with those who are parents; Drew, Jesse, and Mark are all awesome Dads, as are some of the best people I know. But I take exception to those people that say crap like “It’s different when it’s your own” or “you might change your mind” or whatever. And I’m part of two Facebook groups with the word “Childfree” in them (as opposed to “childless;” Google the terms if you don’t know the difference). In that virtual space, we make fun of people who say shit like that. We also rank on parents who have no business being parents. Like the guy in front of me on the bathroom line. It was a super long line, and the show was most likely going to start in 10 minutes (7:30 start time means 8:15, and it was 8:05). The guy was wearing a shirt that said “Grateful Dad,” and he asked a couple of us, “do you think I could pee outside and nobody would notice?” “I wouldn’t,” someone responded. He did it anyway, after which he came back to the line and said, “Pro tip: pee outside,” before walking to the show. That is what we in the Facebook groups call a “breeder.” Google the term if you’re not familiar. Seriously though, dude, nice role modeling. The tall, ponytailed dude next to me said, “I’ll wait. I don’t wanna be labeled a sex offender.” Dude, if you’re a Dad, good job. Anyway, personal gripes aside, onto the show. I did miss part of the slow “Llama” that opened the first set. It’s awesome, but worse thigns have happened. “Fuego” has some catchy lyrics, and “Runaway Jim” has a helluvan energy. When the crowd yells “Bug” and raises their hands in the air in unison, I get a little skingasm. “Mound” is always cool, and “Tela” gets me tearing up (they rarely play that one). “46 Days” was rocking, and “Fluffhead” was rolling. Setbreak: since the crew waited for me, it was my duty to hold the seats. Jesse got his “First Tube” to open the second set. That’s two of his wishes on two runs; he got “Curtain (With)” 8/11/18 at Merriweather. I’m thinking he was a saint in his past life. “Dirt” is another skingasm-inducer, and “Backwards Down the Number Line” bops. I remember my friend Sal snapping his fingers when we hit SPAC on 6/19/10. “No Men in No Man’s Land” got a little spacey. I associated it with the “Drums/Space” the Dead does, so I figured I could hit the bathroom. I was mistaken because I was met by a somewhat long line in the Men’s Room (seven stalls in one bathroom and no urinals!? For real!?) and “Cavern,” one of my favorites, came on. I was getting antsy because it’s a short tune, but fortunately, I was able to make it back for my favorite part (“Give the director a serpent deflector”). Then “Gotta Jiboo” followed, as did “Oh Kee Pa” into “Suzy Greenberg” for the second-set closer. They encored with the uplifting Stones tune, “Shine a Light.” Another awesome show. After the show was another adventure. Maggie and I met up with Fred and Kelly, both of whom were in different places. We ran into my friend Ashley and caught up quickly, which was nice. Driving out of the venue was a little tricky, as the venue seemed to have placed cones at the entrance where we came in. Oh well. Anyway, when we got back to my place, Maggie took off while Kelly hung at my place waiting for her Uber to Virginia Beach. We bullshitted for a bit while I piped Phish’s Walnut Creek show for Summer 97 tour into the DVD player. Fred and I shot the shit for a while until we both started drifting off. My cold’s gotten a little better (knock on wood); I think hosting people and socializing helped a bit. I don’t host out-of-town visitors very often, so this is fun. So a little background: I first became acquainted with Hampton Coliseum in November 1999 when Phish released a Hampton Comes Alive, a 6-CD compilation of two live shows they had played at that venue a year earlier. I remember annoying the brothers in the fraternity house by playing it over and over again.
Anyway, fast forward 15 years later. I had been taking a hiatus from Phish (long story), but in May 2014, I had an interview with Hampton University. As my department chairperson drove me from the campus to the Newport News-Willamsburg Airport via I-64 West, I saw it to my right. The Hampton Coliseum. I gasped internally as I remembered that album cover. Someday, I was going to see a show there. Four and a year half years later, I would be putting together a dossier to be promoted to Associate Professor at said university. After a day of finalizing my first draft of it to give to my Department Chairperson, along with teaching, grading, advising, and troubleshooting, I made my way to Mama Rosa’s on Mercury to meet Drew, Mark, and Jesse for our preshow chow. Tonight’s dish was chicken picatta, accompanied by salad, spaghetti, and garlic knots. The above food porn was taken by Netta, our lovely waitress. We weren’t sure if we had to pay $20 to get into the lot, so we parked at the shopping center across the street and headed in. The Mothership, as we headie folks affectionately call it, lights up beautifully at night. After waiting on some crazy lines to get into the venue and go to the bathroom, we staked out a spot Page side. Hampton Coliseum is definitely the most intimate venue in which I’ve ever seen Phish. As I walked in, I got chills: seeing Phish here had been on my bucket list for a long time, and it was happening! And Drew, Mark, and Jesse had already been there, including for those Hampton Comes Alive shows. Sadly, I felt a cold coming on about a half hour before I left work, but that wasn’t stopping me from enjoying the show. I didn’t dance as hard as I typically do, but I was still enjoying some good grooves. “Strawberry Letter 23” opened the show; the first time I heard them do this was 7/22/17, Night Two of the Baker’s Dozen. “Blaze On” is always welcome, and I had never heard “Mock Song” performed live. As I typed “Roggae” into my Pages app, I hit a misspelling, but the phone autocorrected it. It knows!!! “Sparkle” and “Undermind” rocked, and the clapping during “Meat” made me feel unified and connected with the crowd. I love when they play “Walk Away,” which closed the set. “Carini” was bumping, “Sand” was thumping, and “Golden Age” housed one helluva spacey jam. “Twist” brings chills to me everytime, and being able to shout “Woo!” after the lyric about “substituting every sound” followed by those other “woo”s can make even the most mundane show come alive for me (not that any show is mundane, of course…hahahah). It ws the first time I heard “Mountains of the Mist,” which was superchill. “Meatstick” followed (“Whoa-oa, shocks my brain), as did “Split Open and Melt.” Mark had gone down another tier to get a closer view of the band; Gary joined us for a bit (you remember him as the chest flasher from Merriweather), but he had also gone to another section, so Drew, Jesse, and I called encors. Drew called “Harry Hood,” Jesse called “First Tube,” and I called “Show of Life.” “Lizards” was a good compromise. I had my phone off during the show to conserve power, but when I turned it back on, I saw Mark’s picture of the band from his much closer viewpoint. Drew said, “We thought you got stuck in the glory hole or something.” Mark replied, “I couldn’t resist the call of the rail.” A meme of The Hangover’s Alan with the text “One Man Wolf Pack.” My final thought of the night: I love these guys. |
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