The first date was to be May 8th in my old home town: West Palm Beach. The last date was to be in my new home town: Charlotte, North Carolina. I felt like it was a destiny that I had to fulfill by seeing the first date of the show and the last date.
I have a friend who was more than a willing combatant. He was enthusiastic to make the trek with me whether we went by land, sea or air. More over he was willing to be a guest at my mom's house in Boynton Beach. There is nothing quite like the hospitality of a mom letting two hooligans stay in her house for a few days while they relived their youth drinking the sunny days away and listening to some kick ass music in South Florida.
Please keep in mind that the date of the show fell on the Friday of Mother's Day weekend. In keeping to the idea of me being a selfish teenager, I thought nothing of booking the trip and making the jaunt down to South Florida with my friend. We planned a weekend of drinking, music and hopefully more drinking. After we bought some plane tickets, the thought of the trip and me returning on Mother's Day sank in. "You're not mad are you?" I asked. In being my perfect companion she said "No, go have a good time!" After seeing her status updates like "I'm vacuuming and my husband is at the beach!" or "My husband is living it up in South Florida...Happy Mother's Day to me???" on Facebook I realized the trip may not have been in my best interest (see past blog "The Talk").
I bought tickets for the show and remember being psyched that we had SEATS! Seats meant we are closer than the "lawn people"! A seat means we are under the covering in case it rains. You may not think that means a lot to a bald adult, but for some reason it did at the time of purchase and still rings true today. Under no circumstances could I possibly spend $159.00 for a plane ticket and not be as close as possible to my rock gods. There was no way we are seeing the first show and not going to be on top of the action. At least that's what I thought. As any teenager would do, I convinced my bud to spring for the extra $40.00. We paid $40.00 to be an extra 20 feet closer. We were the last row of seats. I was in full view of the "lawn people". When I bought the tickets The Chosen One was in my ear saying "Why don't you just buy the lawn seats?" Ahh, hellllo! We want to be close to the action! Thank God it didn't rain cause we weren't even under the covering.
I've had a bad experience of being on the lawn during a concert. It brings back memories of what I had to do to make The Chosen One fall in love with me. At the last concert I saw on the lawn, we had a blanket and it was James Taylor. I like J.T. I think he is a great musician in his own right but a real bore to see live. He sounds great, music is great but the vibe of jumping up and down rhythmically with the crowd to "How Sweet It Is" doesn't seem like a great idea. I saw that blanket and I was pissed. I don't want to sit on f**king blanket. I wanted to sleep on that damn blanket.
Mind you, seeing this concert or snooze fest, was when I was courting The Chosen One. During this phase I said and did all sorts of dumb shit such as go to a Kenny Loggins concert. Yeah, I did. Not one of the prouder moments in my life. It kind of ranks up there with me wanting to buy a Camaro, but I was there and when I saw him stand on a chair and belt out "Foot Loose," I thought the roof was going to come down.
That was the last time I was more charming than selfish. I would do other things too like say stuff like "Oh yeah, I like to read books" or "Oh, I love to go dancing." Meanwhile this poor woman had no idea she was getting a binge drinking, video game playing idiot who swears a lot and is completely politically incorrect.
We have lawn seats for the date in Charlotte. I figure the money I save will go to my liver.
Me and my bud get to the show and I go right for the merchandise tent. The Chosen One had given me specific instructions that I was not allowed to buy shirts for the ladies. I somehow blocked those words out and asked if they had youth sizes. No luck. Too bad cause I'd have bought them. Man, my kids would have been the coolest kids at their elementary school rocking a NIN or Jane's Addiction concert shirt. In a world where Hannah Mountcrapa and The Jonas Turds are the norm, two sweet little girls come to class with a NIN or a Jane's shirt on? Come on that's bad ass!
We finally get to our seats right in time for Nine Inch Nails to hit the stage. Words cannot be put in writing to describe the ass kicking display of raw power they gave to us during that first show on Mother's Day weekend. Jane's Addiction, who were equally awesome, hit the stage after a NIN set that consisted of 20 songs. I was left completely satisfied. Both bands delivered beyond expectations.
I get back on Mother's Day and, after pleasantries are exchanged, my youngest asked me how the concert was. I said "It felt like I got kicked in the chest, held down and screamed at for a good three hours!" She looked at me in disbelief. A few days later I was surfing youtube and found some of the songs both Nine Inch Nails and Jane's Addiction played. I showed her "Mr. Self Destruct". She looked up at me and asked "Is that when he kicked you in the chest?"
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