In my previous posts, (here and here), I told you the highlights of my concert adventures through the years. I'm sure someday, I'll remember details about more of them. Fighting through the haze of youth can be tough.
In this post, I'm going to tell you the story of the best concert I've ever seen. It's a story that isn't exactly as cut and dry as you might think. This story takes place between my single days and my marriage; the later stages of our courtship.
My favorite band of all time has to be Pink Floyd. Of all the bands I've seen live, to this day, they are one of the bands that I might abandon reason and pay ridiculous amounts of money to see live. I seriously would have no trouble getting a second job just to see them live.
The year is 1994, and Pink Floyd announces the tour in support of the album "The Division Bell". With a Saturday morning ticket sales start, I had no problems dropping everything, grabbing a few things and heading to the Metrodome in Minneapolis to camp out for tickets. It's gonna be cold? Like I give a shit. I want these tickets damn it! I didn't mention in the last post that I went to see them on the Momentary Lapse of Reason tour in 1987, but now you know. So this was going to be the second time I got to see the greatest band ever.
The line had started forming by the time a co-worker and I got there. No biggie, we were only about 25 from the start of the line. Now we wait. {time passes, not fast enough, but it passes} In the morning, a representative comes to the line and announces that the order of ticket purchases will be done by lottery. Anyone here at this moment gets a number. I take my ticket and see it's the number 15. Not bad. After handing out all the numbers, this same person announces that we need to form a new line.
Will the person with the ticket number 14, please come forward. Look at your tickets and form a line in numeric order starting at 14.Oh My F%@#* Gawd! I'm second in line! (Excuse my French...but Oh My F%@#* Gawd!) There was still 1 hour before the tickets could be sold. They told us we could buy up to 8. I reached into my pocket and sure enough, there was enough money to buy the 4 I came here to get. Um...where's the nearest ATM? I should buy more tickets...ya think? Could I sell main floor center stage tickets to Pink Floyd? Anyone? I found an ATM and figured the money was an investment. These tickets weren't going to be unused.
I got home (remember, this is before working class kids like me had cell phones...1994 people) and told my hawt girlfriend about the miracle that had occurred. I really couldn't wait to ask her to go with me. Originally, these tickets were for a friend of mine, my brother and one of his friends. My brother and I will buy tickets to Pink Floyd and then check with the boss and the calendar. We are that big of fans. "It could be fun, but why don't you see if someone else wants the tickets," she told me. WTF? Are you kidding me? These are 9th row, center stage to Pink F'n Floyd. "OK. I'll see if I can get rid of it."
I was really disappointed. My favorite band in the whole world, the best seats I could ever imagine getting and my amazing girlfriend at my side. I spread the word that I had the extra ticket. It was actually hard to get rid of just the one. The other extra three tickets were snapped up quickly.
The day of the concert came. I had not stop asking her if she was going to change her mind. She always gave me the same answer. Later that afternoon, I got a call from my brother, he'd found someone for the ticket. Cool! I called her up and told her she didn't have to go, we found someone for the ticket. Her voice sounded strange and she hung up. Weird.
Later we headed up to Minneapolis to the best concert I'd ever seen. Jeebus. That band can rock. No warm up act. Just 2 hours of auditory bliss.
When I got home, the buzz was crushed. My girlfriend had gotten hurt rollerblading after we left for the cities. She was so mad at me for not taking her she went rollerblading like a crazy woman and had crashed herself up, probably breaking her ankle.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. Women sometimes don't really mean what they say. At the moment I called her to tell her that she didn't have to go, she was primping herself and getting ready to go to the concert. She was almost as excited as I was to go and I didn't know.
So there you have it. The best concert I've ever seen. Pink Floyd.
3 comments:
Women! And I can say this because I am one. There is a lesson here. Say what you mean and mean what you say. I'm sure your girlfriend/wife was disappointed.
Pink Floyd! I would have never guessed. My husband is a Pink Floyd FAN! I'll have to ask him if he ever made it to one of their concerts. He might have told me but you know . . . getting older, getting hard of hearing, having brain drain . . . ignoring your spouse.
By the way, which one is Pink? LOL. Yes, I do know a few of their songs.
I've heard many people rave about Pink Floyd concerts. Sounds like it was amazing. And yes, sometimes I can also be guilty of not saying exactly what I mean. Especially to my husband.
A valuable lesson indeed. A very, very, very valuable lesson. And one that really cannot be told to boys out there in a way that they'll ever really understand. They have to live it for themselves, as a rite of passage, before they can call themselves men. After that, they can hear your story, put their beers down and nod their heads knowingly.
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