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Before I share tales of the concert the other night, I must share irony. As y'all will recall, I took the wrong day off. Turns out Monday was dead. Tuesday, the day of the show, I managed to do Modesto and still finish in eight hours. "Great" I thought, "tomorrow I'll whip through my route, go home early, catch a nap and be caught up!"
Ha. Wednesday I worked ten hours due to screw ups. Today was nine and a half. I'll sleep when I'm dead, I expect.
But anyway. Got over to the Tank early, and enjoyed the sun while reading my book in the park adjacent to the arena. When I noticed a growing number of people also clad in black and leather beginning to accumulate, I drifted over, found the reserved seat line, and read some more. Then we had entertainment. We had Jesus freaks. Two guys in "Jesus Loves You!" t-shirts unfurl banners that said basically "offer on t-shirt void if you fit in any of these 30 categories of people that Jesus really hates", crank up their megaphones, and start trying to be clever. The opening line "Hey, is this a Christian concert"? My reply, delivered in my best command voice? "No, the music here isn't going to suck." And we were off and running.
I won't go into details, mainly because I wasn't taking notes and there has been beer since then, but within five minutes I had the line eating out of my hand. At one point, the guy doing most of the talking mentioned how his God hated homosexuality.
"I guess you should be worried then!" I came back. The fool bit. "Why is that?" came the amplified reply. "Dude, I'm on this side of the barricade with dozens of great looking young women. (To crowd) Who here is planning on getting laid tonight? (massive cheers) You two guys are over there in matching outfits having a little sausage fest. Good luck with that!"
They eventually got frustrated and stopped talking.
The annoying thing came about ten minutes before doors. A Pavilion staffer came by and announced that no studded or spiked clothing or chains would be allowed in the building. He pointed to my wallet chain as he stated the last part. Pointing out that the chain was part of my wallet, about eight inches long and made of aluminum made no headway. "Take it back to the car." was all I got. I came to the show on the bus. So I did what any rational person would do. I pried the chain off the wallet, stuck the chain in my shoe, and went in.
However, I saw at least a dozen people sprint from the floor admission line (which was festival seating) and run into traffic to get back to their cars. A coworker who had walked to the show from his apartment had to throw away a studded belt that had been autographed by KK Dowling (Judas Priest.) I saw one girl in sobbing hysterics because her jeans had rounded studs down the seams and they were denying admission.
If you are going to have this policy, announce it sometime other than ten minutes before the doors open! I am writing a real live letter to the HP Pavilion director of operations to complain about this.
OK, the show. I had killer seats. Section 112, Row 7, Seat 6. This is right next to one of the tunnel entrances and put me right on eye-level with the stage. When no one showed up in my row at show time, I moved over and took the seat right next to the railing. There wasn't a single person in my line of sight. Ate an over-priced pizza, drank my beer, and waiting for show time
( Hit the lights! Please! )
( You were great, we were MegaDeth. Good night! )
( The world is filled with Kings and Queens... )
Kirsten came and fetched me, and we hit a drive through for as much soda as possible.
Ha. Wednesday I worked ten hours due to screw ups. Today was nine and a half. I'll sleep when I'm dead, I expect.
But anyway. Got over to the Tank early, and enjoyed the sun while reading my book in the park adjacent to the arena. When I noticed a growing number of people also clad in black and leather beginning to accumulate, I drifted over, found the reserved seat line, and read some more. Then we had entertainment. We had Jesus freaks. Two guys in "Jesus Loves You!" t-shirts unfurl banners that said basically "offer on t-shirt void if you fit in any of these 30 categories of people that Jesus really hates", crank up their megaphones, and start trying to be clever. The opening line "Hey, is this a Christian concert"? My reply, delivered in my best command voice? "No, the music here isn't going to suck." And we were off and running.
I won't go into details, mainly because I wasn't taking notes and there has been beer since then, but within five minutes I had the line eating out of my hand. At one point, the guy doing most of the talking mentioned how his God hated homosexuality.
"I guess you should be worried then!" I came back. The fool bit. "Why is that?" came the amplified reply. "Dude, I'm on this side of the barricade with dozens of great looking young women. (To crowd) Who here is planning on getting laid tonight? (massive cheers) You two guys are over there in matching outfits having a little sausage fest. Good luck with that!"
They eventually got frustrated and stopped talking.
The annoying thing came about ten minutes before doors. A Pavilion staffer came by and announced that no studded or spiked clothing or chains would be allowed in the building. He pointed to my wallet chain as he stated the last part. Pointing out that the chain was part of my wallet, about eight inches long and made of aluminum made no headway. "Take it back to the car." was all I got. I came to the show on the bus. So I did what any rational person would do. I pried the chain off the wallet, stuck the chain in my shoe, and went in.
However, I saw at least a dozen people sprint from the floor admission line (which was festival seating) and run into traffic to get back to their cars. A coworker who had walked to the show from his apartment had to throw away a studded belt that had been autographed by KK Dowling (Judas Priest.) I saw one girl in sobbing hysterics because her jeans had rounded studs down the seams and they were denying admission.
If you are going to have this policy, announce it sometime other than ten minutes before the doors open! I am writing a real live letter to the HP Pavilion director of operations to complain about this.
OK, the show. I had killer seats. Section 112, Row 7, Seat 6. This is right next to one of the tunnel entrances and put me right on eye-level with the stage. When no one showed up in my row at show time, I moved over and took the seat right next to the railing. There wasn't a single person in my line of sight. Ate an over-priced pizza, drank my beer, and waiting for show time
( Hit the lights! Please! )
( You were great, we were MegaDeth. Good night! )
( The world is filled with Kings and Queens... )
Kirsten came and fetched me, and we hit a drive through for as much soda as possible.
