SHARING THE SHOWS
First off, Mark, I'm giving you a shoutout for your birthday! I would have given you my ticket, but, well, you know...;) So I’ve been blessed with this job that gives me two weeks off for the holidays, and I always go to New York to visit my Mom and brother. Family time is wonderful, and some additional perks include real NY-style pizza and Italian food and seeing friends like Gary, Nina, Susan, and Pat (if I left your name off, feel free to tag yourself). I headed into Manhattan to meet my friend Natalie for dinner; we went to a place near Grand Central Station called DJ’s Pizza. Their slices were thin-crusted and smooth, and the atmosphere was quiet (see my Spinach slice here). I debated whether I should include the picture of the Garden or the slice, and Natalie said, “Why not both?” Good call, Natalie. Spoken like a true photographer. (sI got into the venue at about 7, and although Phish’s 7:30 start time actually means 8:15, I still like getting in early because the lines aren’t as long (less widespread panic trying to get in). As I get in, a dude commented that the blue shirt I bought during the Baker’s Dozen run a couple of years earlier was a lot lighter than his. I don’t use bleach on colors, but I guess it must have come out in the wash. I ran into Chuck on my way to my section, and we chatted New Year’s plans (Infamous Stringdusters in Richmond, VA for me, a Long Island-based Dead cover band called Halfstep for Chuck). Anywhere you go, you can find good music. We’re both only doing one night of Phish. I’ve decided that since my book, How to be a Happy Bachelor, will come out next year (*coughs* PRODUCT PLACEMENT *coughs*), I want to spend money promoting it and building a business around it, so if I have to cut some shows, so be it. And I’m past the phase where I need to see EVERY show. One will just have to be enough this year. And it turns out it was. In fact, this was my 40th show, and the best one I’d ever been to. I got to my seat and met Josh and Shannon, a nice pair of friends from Maine who came down for all four shows. This was Shannon’s first show, and she asked, “Any advice for me?” My response, “The trick is to surrender to the flow.” I saw an opportunity to insert a Phish lyric into a conversation, and I took it. Though with that, I have to call myself out. My assumin’ ass did it again. When talking to Shannon, I referred to Josh as “her boyfriend.” It turned out Josh and Shannon were platonic friends, and Josh is gay. Josh said, “No problem; happens all the time.” As a singles activist, I try to change people’s perceptions on singlehood, but it appears I have to check my assumptions as well. I do assume that when I see a man and a woman together, they’re together; this is societal conditioning. Maggie and I go to tons of shows together in Virginia, and I’m guessing some folks assume we’re a couple. But we’re a couple of awesome concertgoing buds! The boys opened with a tune I had never heard before, and it turns out it was their debut, a mellow tune called “Evening Song.” They then started jamming out on “No Men in No Man’s Land.” This isn’t one of my favorites, but they jammed out on it hard. Same deal with “Down with Disease.” I didn’t recognize “20/20 Vision;” upon checking the setlist, I learned it was an old Gene Autry song. I heard a “No Man’s” tease in “Ghost,” and at this point, the glowsticks started flying. “Gumbo” kicked ass, and then “Rift” came on. I think the boys saw my posting of Rift on Facebook. Shawn tagged me in that chain post that has me posting 10 albums that inspired me, and on day 7, in honor of Phish, I showed Rift, my first ever Phish experience, when a kid named Jason Alinkofsky played it for me during a Jewish youth group trip. I wasn’t hooked right away, but It planted a seed. They must have liked my meme so much they did a twofer on Rift, following it with “Weigh.” Another memory: during college, I worked at Samsonite Travel Expo during the summers at the Palisades Mall, and I had really gone down the Phish rabbit hole. I had a coworker, Luis Serapio, who just couldn’t understand how I listened to Phish, and even worse, in his eyes, insisted on playing it over the store's speakers (“I want to cut your head off so I can weight it!? What the hell kind of lyrics are that!?”). I did get him into the Dead though, particularly Shakedown Street, so 50% works (Johnny Mac, you’ve got a spirit animal). They busted out a rarity, “Dog Faced Boy” (my first time hearing it live). Josh said, “I wonder when the last time they played that was.” It turns out it was 10/24/16 at Grand Prairie, Texas. “Twenty Years Later,” one of my favs, gave me my first skingasm of the night. And I just reflected that it’s been exactly twenty years since Big Cypress. That was quite the event. “Tube” was next, but the real highlight was one of my new favorites, “Say it to Me S.A.N.T.O.S.” off Kasvot Vaxt. My first live experience was 7/6/19 at Fenway, but this one, as it closed the first set, gave me perhaps the biggest skingasm I’d ever had at a Phish show. After it ended, I thought, that was perfect. I can go home now. On the way to the bathroom, I heard someone say, “That song made me want to make a smelly fart.” I guess that space would smell like a fart, wouldn’t it? I’d say that joke’s on par with me yelling “this is what space smells like” during “Space” at Dead & Company last month. Shows are a good place to test out cheesy material. During setbreak, I chatted briefly with Fred and talked with Judy. A fellow academic, we typically talk some shop at the shows. She and my friend Ellen are both neuroscientists, and I made sure they connected at a Neuroscience conference in Washington, DC; we three, along with Bill, saw Jimmy Herring perform at the Hamilton back in 2017; it was a fun night. Every time I see her or Bill, we send selfies to Ellen. I also chatted with a dude named Ethan May, who plays with a band called Jank Setup from Chicago. I also like to plug bands on here, so folks, take a listen to this track. It’s pretty groovy. Set 2 opened with “Everything’s Right,” followed by two Trey songs, “Beneath a Sea of Stars” and “Set Your Soul Free” (“we’re all here together in a spirit family” sums up the vibe of our scene quite nicely). I hadn’t heard “Gotta Jiboo” in a minute, so that was welcomed. During this song, the dudes next to me were trying to throw their glowsticks over a glass divide to the upper section (way harder than it looks). I tried it myself, and didn’t make it. And my old ass threw his arm out doing it (see the divide below). Sometimes, my mind tells me I’m 22, but my 41-year-old body disagrees. “Free” and “Piper,” show staples, were next. I was ecstatic to hear their cover of The Who’s “Drowned,” and “Ass Handed” is always wacky, and it came with a cool instrumental. “Character Zero” closed the set. The encore: I hadn’t heard “A Life Beyond the Dream” before, and it had a poignant feel to me. Skingasm #3 came in the form of an upbeat “Rocky Top.” Fortunately, the show doesn’t end when the band plays. Some dialogue I heard in the men’s room:
Young New York phans crack me up. During the slow crawl down the stopped escalator (Mitch Hedberg’s routine about how an escalator can’t break comes to mind), a woman named Sheila was telling me about how her friend Tony was a hammerhead. I thought it was an interesting line so I wrote it in my pad. Sheila then turned to me and said, “Are you taking notes on us!?” I then told them about my blog, and we conversed. She then gave me a card she made up (see below). I’d love to give this card to people who insist on having loud conversations at the show, especially when those conversations are with me. After the show, my contact buzz drew me to a street vendor, who sold me a hot pretzel with mustard (that’s required cuisine when visiting NY). Sadly, I missed the PATH train to Hoboken by about thirty seconds, so I had to wait for the 1:32 back to Suffern, the last train of the night. The New Jersey Transit people had the doors closed, and some drunk dude was yelling at the closed train something about “It’s a fucking conspiracy! This is what my taxes pay for!” Looking back, I think it might have been funny for me to yell, “Power to the People!” At least, in theory. In practice, probably not so much. At any rate, it was good postshow entertainment, as I said to the two dudes from Jersey I talked to, who also dug the sets.
The conductors and transit cops came by, telling us they weren’t letting anyone on the train without a ticket. Understandable, as it is the last train of the night, and drunk riders will either: a) sneak on without one; or b) forget to buy one, and then pass out. I refer to that late-night train as “the drunk train.” I was entertained by this group of 20something drunk girls who I’m sure had been partying in Hoboken or Manhattan. They were debating which Insomnia Cookie to eat, and then my mind filled with regret. I got a Snickers ice cream bar as “something sweet” when I could have gotten an Insomnia Cookie (or two). As I thought further, one cookie wouldn’t have been enough (as that was the case when I visited Chuck and Lisa in Milwaukee last year), and I’m trying to be good even when I’m bad. All in all, one night was definitely enough this hard. Could this be a sign of change of the horizon? Cue the horror music…
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So I got my final grades in today. My students know I don’t check my work e-mail on weekends (for my own sanity and serenity), so I have a two-day reprieve before the handful of inquiries regarding, “Why’d I only get a B in your class?” and “I only missed eight classes; how’d I fail!?” Fortunately, I know how to enjoy the little things in life, and on that note, Maggie and I were off to see some live music. Our original picture had us holding up pieces of Swiss cheese as a tribute to the band, but alas, Maggie’s phone deleted them. Damn technology. Oh well. We drove through a rain-soaked 17 to Yorktown and navigated through a gauntlet of cars to get to a parking space. If you’ve ever parked at the Cowboy Sports Grill, you know (shudders). We pulled up at a table next to this fighting couple. I heard the woman say to her mate, “Fuck off.” Now that’s the makings of a domestic drama right there (thank the CoSPers for helping me stay out of situations like that). We waited for the drummer to arrive, and during that time, some dude asked me if I was in the band. I guess the sweater and Ivy League hat gave it away; I did look a little out of place among these flannel-and-trucker hat country folk, which I can accept. At a little after 10, the band opened with Darius Rucker’s “Wagon Wheel.” I could hear the Stevie Ray Vaughn influence on the guitar as Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl” graced the stage. A variety of genres ensued, from “Brickhouse” to Rick Springfield’s“Jessie’s Girl” to Cheap Trick's “I Want You to Want Me.” The first time I had ever heard “Jessie Girl” was in college; during my TV Production class, we were assigned to make a music video, and the defacto leader of the group insisted on that song. It was a fun experience. The 80s continued with Tommy Tutone’s “867-5309” before fast-forwarding to the 21st century with Nelly’s “Hot in Here.” At this point, I was trying to boogie, but my subsiding back injury started to flare up. I attributed it to the claustrophobia of having to negotiate around a tight space. Eventually, I sat down and felt nothing. In fact, it was more enjoyable this way because I was able to appreciate the band’s true musical talent on an aesthetic and intellectual level; the fact that they traverse across genres from hip-hop to country to metal is a true testament to their skill. I haven’t seen many bands that do this too well. It was also good people-watching. Lit’s “My Own Worst Enemy” was up next, and I witnessed a number of people doing air kicks during the lyrics “I kick the living shit out of me.” They did a nice bluesy take on Hall & Oates’s “Sara Smile,” which was, for me, the highlight of the show. During set break, Maggie went out for a cigarette, and that same couple was at it again. Apparently, the man was adjusting the car so the woman could get in, and the woman said, “Fuck off, Phil.” Hmmmmm. The second set opened with Metallica’s “Enter Sandman,” and I observed the guitarist was using five different distortion petals, I imagine, to use conventions from all these different genres. They went into Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” followed by a country song I hadn’t heard. But I wrote “save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Googled the lyrics, and came upon a YouTube video for that song by “Big & Rich.” During Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’”, Maggie noticed the singer was forgetting some of the words. Then, I noticed it. At that point, I had exhausted all my energy, so we took off. On the way home, “Enter Sandman” played on the Fox, Hampton Roads’s classic rock station, and we agreed that we’re old. Growing up in New York, I was the only one of my friends who listened to Q104.3, our classic rock station, and they played oldies like Led Zeppelin, The Who, and 70s-era Aerosmith. Now, the classic rock stations play Metallica, Green Day, and Nirvana, stuff from our adolescence. No matter…I still go out on Friday nights, and I have way more fun than I ever did as a teenager, even if my back isn’t quite what it used to be. That was some Fine, Fine Swiss Cheese indeed. J So I was ecstatic that DSO was playing tonight, the Saturday after classes ended. A nice way to celebrate for sure. I spent the day grading and working on my book before Maggie’s 6:00 arrival. We had a smooth trip through the HRBT (it happens about once every thousand years or so) before finding a sweet parking spot on the first floor of the MacArthur Center’s lot. We got inside at about 7 and ran into Burt and Eve (Burt always promotes my blog to his people; thanks dude!). I also chatted with Gordon and Katie, a nice couple from Richmond, and we met Chris, a friend of Maggie’s who promoted Ricco’s, a pizza place in Hampton. Being from New York, I’m always looking to taste-test the local pizza (Sal’s, Vinny’s, and Mama Rosa’s haven’t disappointed thus far). I stayed toward the back of the venue due to my back injury, the pain level of which has descended from a 9 to a 1.5 in the last week, but I have to do that “adulting” thing and treat it well. Maggie joined me, and we met up with Kevin, who told us of his upcoming California trip to see Dead & Company at San Francisco’s newly minted Chase Center), and Mark came in right at the beginning of the first set. John Trip came by too, and we saw Blind & Dirty’s frontman, James. “Left my home in Norfolk, Virginia,” was the first phrase that emanated from Jeff Matson’s voice box. But he indicated he wouldn’t sing it; still, we appreciated the tribute. “Bertha” opened the set, followed by “Jack Straw” (one of my favs), “Tennessee Jed,” and “Looks Like Rain.” They jammed hard on all those tunes. Mark then asked, “What show am I recreating?” He recently started his one-man tribute act, the Mark White Live Experience, which I lovingly call “Special Guest.” I said, “Something in 2003?” “Peggy-O” was next, followed by “El Paso” which has me reminiscing about my previous home, particularly the people (Chris comes to mind first) and the Mexican food (Casita Linda), which ruined me for life. Maggie thinks of me whenever she hears that tune. I met a lovely lady named Amy during a slow “Friend of the Devil” and we talked philosophy with respect to DSO shows, which involves the suspense of wondering what show it is. Her philosophy is solid. That’s part of the fun, except when someone blurts the show out loud, like SOME PEOPLE DID THREE YEARS AGO. Not gonna mention any NAMES (*coughs* John! *coughs* Drew!; nah, I love you both, I’m just playing). “The Music Never Stopped” closed the set, during which Don and I said a quick hello and I met his daughter. A new generation of Deadheads; I love it! The second set opened up with a “Scarlet-Fire” combination. At this point, my pen’s ink expired so I stepped back into the 21st century and wrote the rest of my notes on my phone. “Good Loving” rocked the house. Mark, Maggie, and I speculated as to which show this was. I was thinking 1975/1976; they hadn’t played anything from Terrapin Station up to that point. Mark noted that one year, Jerry and Phil had switched sides on the stage; he’s way more fluent in Dead history than I, so I defer to him. Next, this would be the first time I’d hear DSO do “Candyman.” Mark said, “Gene Wilder’s the real Candyman.” “Don’t forget Johnny Depp,” I added. I love any excuse to drop a pop culture reference in my writing; thanks, Mark! Then came Terrapin’s Estimated Prophet. 1977 was now a possibility. “He’s Gone” (Johnny Mac’s favorite song) and then I thought of a joke. When I posted my check-in on Facebook, Ashley commented, “Did the show start?” As a general rule, I don’t post or comment during the show, but I figured it’d be funny if, after the show, I’d write “It’s all over now” because the Dead covered that Stones tune pretty frequently in their heyday. And then I’d write “hhahahhahah…” and give the impression that I laughed at my own joke for 10 minutes, which I do pretty frequently on Facebook. I thought of that, and just couldn’t stop cracking up. Maggie asked me what I was thinking about, and I told her. A Dead show is the only place I can get away with that kind of behavior. I mean, some drunk lady named Dawn Marie threw a paper airplane into the crowd, so I’m in good company, although I don’t need alcohol or drugs to act crazy. Anywho, “Drums” came next. I yelled “Drums” and Maggie followed by yelling “Space.” That could be a new routine we make up. There was no “Space” though, interestingly enough. “Samson and Delilah” brought us back to reality, and then Mark’s fav, “Lady – Terrapin.” “Morning Dew” glided us into “Around and Around,” and the second set concluded. Mark said, “Call the police, because they murdered that show!” I then started cracking up and making like I’d laugh for ten minutes, while Mark laughed at me laughing, just the reaction for which I was hoping. They jumped out for a double encore of “Uncle John’s Band” and “US Blues” (another fav). Kevin gave the most profound thought of the evening, “I don’t wanna show it is. They’re playing this tonight; I wanna stay in the moment.” Amen, Kevin. Still, I listened intently for the reveal: June 7, 1977 at San Francisco’s Winterland Arena. I’m bummed I can’t download it (“Stream Only” on archive.org), but I’ll listen to it on my office computer while I’m inputting grades into our grading system this week. As a tribute to the holidays, “Run Rudolph Run” closed the show. As we parted ways, Darian walked with Maggie and I to the car. EDIT (Thanks, Maggie, for noticing the oversight): As we were driving down Tidewater, the car in the lane to us honked, and the driver flipped us off. "What the hell?" Then he rolled down his window, and it was Mark. That capped the night nicely! Overall, I had a blast. I was a little bummed I couldn’t boogie as hard as I normally do, but I still danced where I could. Great music, even better friends. So I spent a nice few days in New York with my family for Thanksgiving, which was a wonderful experience marred only a back injury. Otherwise, it was great seeing my Mom, brother, and many family members and friends.
After some delays, my flight landed in Norfolk a little after 7. Maggie picked me up from the airport and after picking up my boy Chester and dropping him and my luggage off at my domicile, we headed to the Vanguard. I debated whether I should go due to my back, but ultimately, I decided I’d regret not going. After all, it’s fucking Rush, and this is the first time in my five years in Hampton Roads I heard of a Rush tribute coming. And they don’t involve much dancing. I figured I could stay close to the back. As we enjoyed our burgers, preceded by a site of pita bread and pimento cheese, the band opened with what appeared to be a mashup of a few tunes from Caress of Steel, most notably “Bastille Day.” It felt like dinner theater. We finished our meal and headed to the stage as “Freewill” graced the stage. And yes, the singer, Mark sounds exactly like Geddy and he has his hair done the way he did in the 70s (see the Exit Stage Left video for a comparison). I can only imagine the training the singer from Kix put his voice through to get his octaves up that high. The next bunch of songs were samples from a variety of their albums, mostly ones never played on the radio. In the spirit of Rush fan geekdom, I’m going to bullet this list of songs played during the first set and the albums from which they’re drawn:
During setbreak, we ran into Dean and took the fabulous picture you see above. We also heard snippets of “The Garden,” “Available Light,” and “Leave That Thing Alone.” “Tom Sawyer” opened the second set; thanks to I Love You Man, I think of this virtuoso sequence every time I heard the song. I love that movie; it gave Rush more credibrolity than it had (Mark and Drew, that was for you). “The Spirit of Radio,” a classic, also brings Jason Segel to mind with his performance from Freaks and Geeks in a heartbreaking contrast between adolescent fantasy and adult reality. “The Trees” was next, followed by “Dreamline.” “Animate” was the first Rush song I ever heard. At 16, I used a bunch of the tip money I earned from delivering newspapers to invest in rock music, and I had heard good things about Rush from Mr. Rapeleye, my high school tennis coach, so I bought Counterparts. I wasn’t overly impressed upon my first listen (especially when I became exposed to the likes of Permanent Waves, Moving Pictures, and 2112) but over time, that album’s earned a special place in my heart. “La Villa Strangiato” was described in Beyond the Lighted Stage as one of the toughest songs to play on guitar, and it apparently inspired Metallica’s Kirk Hammett in his playing. “Subdivisions” closed the set; earlier that day, I saw the Dogs’s recreation of that video. Reader, what Rush fan has not felt like the kid in that video at at least one point in their life? The encore consisted of “Bytor and the Snow Dog,” an extended solo by Andy (Neal), and Maggie’s call, “Limelight.” I was a little bummed nothing from Power Windows or 2112 made the set, but I ain’t complainin’. After Maggie and I parted ways, I decided one Rush experience wasn’t enough, so I popped in the DVD of Time Stand Still, a documentary of their final tour in 2015. Side note: one of the biggest regrets of my life was not seeing them at MSG during that tour because I was trying to save money for a trip to Ireland. I was so young back then. I couldn’t miss this tribute because that would make two regrets. I fell asleep somewhere around the 30-minute mark and woke up to the end credits. All in all, a helluva night and an even better weekend. And Maggie informed me she, Dean, and I are on their Facebook page thanks to a picture from last night’s show. That’s me in the middle with the Ivy League hat with my hand next to my face really trying to hear beyond the music. All in all, a great night. Glad I sucked it up and went. |
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April 2024
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