Wednesday, June 30, 2010

From The Youngest:
God I love Phish
or
Instant Karma's Gonna Getcha

or

God I Love Phish

or

On To OHIO!













I went to bed at 5:00am Saturday morning, the day of the Blossom Music Center show. The previous night I narrowly escaped a DUI and was charged with possession of marijuana and paraphernalia after getting in a minor fender-bender following the Toyota Park show. I woke up at 9:30am the same morning, organized my beer, packed some shit, and grabbed an unweighed bag of shrooms I had laying around. I tend to prefer tripping at out of town venues when I have a nearby hotel. Needless to say, I stashed them more securely than the weed that I had in my car the night before...which was now sitting in an evidence room. 7 hours to Cleveland.



















I didn't notice the time change until I checked into my hotel room and saw that the clock read 6:00pm. I expected the show to start at about 8:00. I had upgraded my seats to (fucking awesome) second row seats a couple days before the concert through a ticketmaster re-release. That meant I had to find someone to buy my extra ticket in the lot beforehand. It was a rush since I wanted to be situated inside the venue before I consumed my boomers...and I wanted them to wear off early enough so I could drive myself back to the hotel. As soon as I got into my hotel room I threw some beer in the sink, filled it up with a bunch of ice, and speed chilled (rotated) them. I grabbed a clean shirt, chugged a couple quick beers, packed my cooler bag, and hit the road for the venue by 6:30.














The directions that I had put me on a route that was closed to reroute concert traffic. I proceeded forward and turned at the next road. Without really know where I was going, I spotted a few phan-cars that I could follow for the rest of the way in. It occured to me on the drive that less than 24 hours ago I was cuffed in a police station having my fingerprints taken. I don't bother memorizing the new route that I would have to take home...I was in a damn fine mood, singing along to the (obviously phan requested) music on the local radio stations and having a blast driving through the beautiful state forest on a perfect summer day.



I arrived at Blossom and was directed to the furthest lot from the venue. I grabbed a couple beers, hooked the bag of shrooms over my undies, secured my camera in a similar fashion, and immediately started on the long walk to willcall to pick up my tickets. It was a total crowded clusterfuck of vendors, t-shirts, coolers, and slow-moving customers along shakedown. It was even worse up by the venue enrance. I had to proceed through a jam-packed line of security just to get to the box office to pick up my extra ticket. Since show time was fast approaching, there was a mass of people waiting to get in. It took me a good, sweaty, sweltering 20 minutes just to break through...then I had to come back out through the same mass of humanity to try to trade my extra.


Me, to an officer casually milling about outside a barricade.


"You mind if I just hop over this thing?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm just trying to get out, can't I just jump over here?"

"Just keep moving."


The police had taken my weed the night before, so I was hoping that I could trade my ticket for some nugs so I'd be set for the show. As soon as I hit an opening devoid of police and security I started hawking my extra to anyone standing around with a finger in the air. "11th row page side for nug trade!". I was hustling hard, doing the fast walk. The fifth or sixth person I encountered, a cute hippie girl, was all set and ready for the trade. Another guy came in with a different type of weed, comparing his with this girl's to compete for the ticket. I'm a weak man and traded with the girl. She also had the most citrusy-smelling weed I've ever smelt and even gave me an ego-flattering "you made the right choice" speech afterwords.














Just like that I had everything I needed for the show and headed back into the venue. It was an emotional experience just to get my ticket scanned to get inside since they only had about 7 gate entrances to filter in over 10k people. Like I said, I was trying to get situated and get these boomers in my belly as soon as possible. Once inside I grabbed my dinner, a soft pretzel and a Smithwicks, and went down to my (fucking awesome 2nd row) seat. There was a security guard about 2 feet in front of me on the rail, so I took off my hat, put it in my lap, and placed the bag of shrooms inside it to hide them.


I think it was about 8:00 when I finally took my seat. As I munched away I said hello to the couple that was sitting next to me and exchanged pleasantries before informing them that I was definitely going to have some extra mushies once I was done snacking. The girl must have been the sober-cab, because she quickly offered up her man. "I can't do them, but HE will!" I love giving away immobilizing drugs at shows...and if I'm gonna have a shit-eating grin on my face all night, someone nearby should too. Plus, he had a piece...and since mine had been taken by the cops the night before, it was a convenient situation.


(my picture)














The band took the stage before too long, so I handed the bag over to my neighbor. He snacked away and sent them back after a few minutes...I took a few more down for good measure.

As I noted, the band's playing has been getting better and better with each show and it's been fun watching them get their sea legs back over the past year. The shows are getting to that point this summer where it's worth it to download and listen to every show again...moments of awesomeness are becoming commonplace.


Here's a video I took during the Stash jam...featuring the annoying girl next to me who kept feeling compelled to engage me in conversation while I was trying to listen to the music. No, I am not going to ask why you don't have any fucking shoes. I don't care why you would be worried about somebody cashing a bowl on your feet...fucking people.


When setbreak came, I was feeling the full effect of the boomers. I decided against ingesting any more beer or weed midway through set one...I was where I needed to be. I was staring at the nearby band gear, trying to figure out what the fuck it was that I was looking at, when the girl next to me engaged me in conversation again...there was a beer spill, a request for security to help...random questions that were really difficuly to respond to while I was peaking with a head full of shrooms. Eventually I admitted my state of mind to get her to lay off a little bit. It took enormous concentration for me to ensure that the shit coming out of my lips actually made sense...she left me alone to talk to the people she came with. I was relieved, finally, and hope to be left alone for the remainder of the show.


Moments later, a guy in the front row turns around and says to me, "Are you The Youngest?"


I am frightened. I'm not a very social person, and to randomly run into someone who knows my name in a state I've never lived in is pretty weird. Especially considering my mental condition.


"Uhhh, yeah..." I responded as I eyed him warily...worried that his parents are in my parents' bible study.


"Does the name Jeffrey Lebowski mean anything to you?"


"....yes"


"Dude, I played hockey with you growing up, I was a year or two younger!"


"Holy shit!"


"My parents live down the street for yours...Meadow Lane!"


"Holy fuck!"


My mind was blown, it was such an odd experience. Not to mention the fact that the kid lived in L.A. now, and was only at the show because he scored first row mail order tickets.


Small fucking world.


I did my best to have a casual chat until setbreak ended. During set two, we were treated to a never-before-played cover...

Instant Karma - being a huge beatles and john lennon fan, I was fucking happy as a pig in shit hearing this. The security gaurd working the rail was a bit of a douche the whole show as well, flashing his light in peoples faces and being a distraction, so it was a blast singing the lyrics at him.

How in the world you gonna see
Laughin’ at fools like me
Who in the hell d’you think you are
A super star?
Well...right you are














At one point during the second set, I was fairly certain that I was telepathically communicating with the band. Not just with the band, but with the lights, the overall energy from the crowd....I felt like I was mentally supporting the actual structure surrounding the stage. I was keeping the fabric of reality in check.


I was directly in front of the drummer, who was on fire that night, and several times I'd start grooving to a backbeat, encouraging him to ride it out, until the band noticed and shifted the jam into new territory.


I could sense a sort of telepathic fog hovering over the entire pavilion. I could see what looked like fiber-optic strings connecting the band, the lights, the crowd...and I was controlling all of it, directing the entire scene like a puppetmaster...or God. I was smiling ear-to-ear.


For a brief moment I lost my concentration, my control of the scene, just as the band was coming to the transition of a song...and they stopped. Briefly. As if they forgot who gave the cue to start the next section...or they were waiting for it from me. I quickly regained my focus and got things back in line. Trey smiled. Mike nodded his head like a muppet. All was well again.


(my video...Hydrogen...midway through a Mike's Groove)



After the show was over I did my best, considering what condition my condition was in, to chat with Jeff Lebowski before splitting up.


I was still tripping fairly decently and was having trouble performing simple logic exercises. Lightning and thunder started up as people were leaving the venue to the parking lot. I hit up a covered picnic area to sober up/wait out the storm/long walk back. While I sat, I tried to do the math to figure out when it would be OK to drive myself back to the hotel. I was thinking that a little over six hours would put me in the clear to get in line and wait in a traffic jam, but I was still unable to do the math. I knew that I ingested the shrooms at about 8:00 but I was having a hell of a time holding that idea in my head while doing the appropriate math to know what time it would be when 6 hours had passed.


I kept started off, saying, "OK, so I took them at 8." I'd look at my cell phone, note the time, and then completely lose my concentration. Eventually I decided to just people watch the fans streaming out of the venue and try not to weird out the people who were cycling in and out of the covered picnic area.


Once the stream of people died down, police vehicles started circling around to herd people back to their cars. I have no idea what time it was when I started walking back to my car. It took me forever to locate it, since I didn't note the nearby light post number in my rush, and by the time I found it, I was stuck in a rainstorm, happy to be in my car, and immediately started the beast up and headed for my hotel room. I just kind of expected that I would instinctively find my way back without consulting a map or getting directions.












I got in line to wait my turn to exit. It happened much sooner than I anticipated since I was in the worst, furthest back, parking lot there. I didn't feel weird behind the wheel, I felt in control...but I was still having trouble holding multiple thoughts in my head and maintaining a logical, sequential stream of thought. Whatever my state, the rain was pouring down outside. My car looked like it was ready to get stuck in a patch of muddy shit, traffic didn't look like it would be moving far any time soon, and I was ready for a warm bed.


As I was about to exit the parking lot area onto public roads, three drenched, helpless people flashed me the thumbs up to hitch a ride from me. One of them even threw in some extra flare and kicked up her skirt to really sell it. I slammed on my breaks and peaked out my passenger window to see an attractive girl peaking back...it took all of about 2 seconds for me to roll down my window and encourage the two girls and flat-brimmed wearing guy to hop inside my death trap.














At the time, I was thinking several thoughts.


1. Holy shit, you are being extremely irresponsible! Turn these people back into the rain!

2. I feel comfortable behind the wheel, I'm not drunk or weirded out by this situation.

3. These people might be able to navigate me to some place familiar since I have no fucking idea where I'm going.

4. These people will definitely say something if I am not OK to drive.

5. Holy shit, you are being extremely irresponsible! Turn these people back into the rain

6. Whatever you do, do not kill these people!

7. OK, we'll just get started out and see how this goes. If shit ain't right, we can always pull over and work something out.

8. I'd ask them to huff those nitrous balloons quickly so we don't attract any officers, but that seems kind of rude.


We pulled away and my passengers thanked me endlessly. They were soaked and I suspected that the girl in my passenger seat was on ecstasy. She was very, very talkative. I did my best to explain that I was basically a mindless driver. I had no idea where I was going, and if they wanted to get back to their hotel, they would need to tell me, turn by turn, where to go.

They were completely unprepared for this basic task. Instead, I was showered with offers of party favors and hints at sexual exploits once we got to their hotel. I was trying to get these people somewhere safe and dry and was completely unprepared to deal with this shit.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I really want to make sure I get you guys somewhere safe and you are being kind of distracting...if you could just quit asking so many questions and tell me where to go."

Eventually, we worked our way down some local streets to a gas station by a highway. We decided that it might be better driving to my hotel and for them to call a cab from there. This idea was fucking perfect for me. I just wanted to get off the road. I convinced my drugged-up passenger to get directions and designated her the navigator.

We finally made it back safely after dealing with several miles of me hugging the right lane while trying to see out of a foggy, rainy windshield and making sure that my navigator didn't miss telling me what exit I needed to take. I dropped them off at my hotel lobby before parking my car and was rewarded with a nice little nugget from the dude in the back seat. I was overjoyed to have a couple strains of primo weed to try out after having my stash taken by the cops the night before.

I collected my shit, which took about half an hour, and headed into the lobby. Where else but on Phish tour could I enjoy two back-to-back nights like these?



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