SHARING THE SHOWS
I needed this show. On Friday afternoon, I took a break from staring at screens for a virtual conference to go for a jog. When I headed back to my apartment, I was met by police cars, fire trucks, and a police line with that ominous directive, “Do Not Cross.” I was then informed there was an active shooter in the neighborhood. They caught him, but it was a traumatic scene. I was able to get into my place at about 11, but Chester’s usual greeting of “give me treats” soothed me a great deal. So did getting out of Dodge, aka DC, for the night. I’ve written here before about how much I love train travel, and that affinity will never die. I worked on a research article, read, journaled, and stared out at the window, much nicer than bumping and grinding through I-95, a trip I loathe. At any rate, I did get into Penn Station and hopped an Uber down to my Airbnb in the East Village (with these recent attacks on subways, going on there with my carry-on and backpack just screams “Tourist,” even if I’m a veteran of the rails there, and I’ve already had one traumatic experience this weekend. I don’t need another!). After a power nap (made a bit challenging by the noise in the East Village), I walked the two miles up to Madison Square Garden (MSG), passing by Union Square Park, where I used to have lunch when I was a corporate automaton back in my 20s. I grabbed a slice form Mia Pizza on 4th Avenue and Bravo right on 31st Street, as well as a hot dog from a vendor, as per my NYC routine. I walked it off some more, and I always love it when I get to the area and I start seeing Phish shirts and all kinds of wacky costumes, accompanied by the aroma of herbal essence (aka marijuana). When I got to MSG, I saw all kinds of construction around the front; my immediate reaction: “WTF have you done to my beloved Garden!” I would get there, and heads would be hanging out, fingers in the air, chilling, but my new, logical reaction is, “Hey, maybe they’re making it more appealing?”
I walked through the entrance on Eighth Avenue, and made my way up to Section 310, the bridge. It’s a tiny area that overlooks the seats and crowd. Great view, but since we have a glass pane protecting us, I can get paranoid that my phone or wallet will fall over that rail, so I take those items off my person very gingerly. My neighbor was a dude named Jeff, who had driven down from Boston on impulse with his buddy to catch the show. Nice guy, who helped reaffirm my Childfree by Choice position with his complaints about parenthood as being a lot of work and responsibility, and how it keeps him from going to all the shows he wants to (no disrespect to parents reading, but that’s just his position). I intentionally avoided reading the setlists from the previous nights’ shows because I like surprise. It was a four-night run, so by process of elimination, if they were to play “Fluffhead” on Wednesday, they wouldn’t play it tonight. But play it they did, and what an opener! And quite the jam. The following songs comprised the first set: Mike’s Song I Am Hydrogen Weekapaug Groove Simple (my old friend Bruce’s favorite, and the jam of which was the highlight of the night for me) Egg in a Hole The Divided Sky First Tube All in all, a decent first set, pretty old-school; I was hoping they’d fast-forward during Set Two. During setbreak, I caught up with my friend Kelly (with whom I hit shows on 10/20/18 and 7/5/19), who recently moved to Colorado. And another friend Judy, another academic phan, who gives me opportunity to talk shop briefly during these shows. We set a selfie to our friend Ellen, a fellow neuroscientist of Judy’s; I made that connection happen during a show in DC a few years earlier, before it became my home. Set 2 No Men in No Men’s Land (not my favorite, but the jam that followed was killer) Prince Caspian Piper (played at about ¾ tempo, still awesome) Gotta Jibboo I Always Wanted It This Way (meh, but a kickass jam as well) Lonely Trip Walls of the Cave A good show. Not my favorite songs, but they jammed the hell out of them, which hit me right where I needed. The triple encore rocked: Wilson (fun to sing to, and love the crowd-unifying “Wilson” chant) David Bowie (fun to sing to as well, even if their lyrics consist of “David Bowie” and “UB40”) More (this one gave me my skingasm of the night, as we all sang, and closing the four-night run with this song seems to fit where we are as we emerge from this pandemic-induced tunnel) As I walked back to my Airbnb and passed through East Village, I observed college kids and twentysomethings running through the street and thought of those days when my old friends Mario, Nick, Thach, and I would carouse through this neighborhood in search of beer and, well, digits, long before I started identifying as ace. But even at 43, I can still carouse at shows, albeit in moderation, and I appreciate it much more. Sometimes, during jams, I’ll start reflecting on things going on in my life, and I’ve been through some rough stuff this year: having caught Omicron, and now this shooting. But I’ve also been able to enjoy DC and all the shows that have come out, and made some new show buddies (John and Pete, you both rock). So I’m persevering. And I’ve said this before, but music has been my medicine through the joyful and the challenging, and as I approach the end of the school year and prepare to start my tenure application (coming up in the fall!), I’ll be doubling down on that medication, both in-person and through my speakers. Stay safe, folks, and take care of yourselves and your loved ones, whomever they may be!
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May 2024
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