8.07.2008

Through the Styx on the way to Boston.

I was supposed to work until 5pm today in order to cover the phones while someone was being trained in.

She called in this morning as her water broke. I called my super and asked if he still wanted me to stay late, hoping that he wouldn't. Thankfully, I could leave at 4 as normal.

3:45 pm, I started shutting down my computer applications, praying that no one called. The day had been slow to that point and I hoped the Gods weren't playing a joke on me. Luckily, Karma had it in. For all the times I stayed late, today I walked out the door at 4:02pm. I had places to be tonight.

****

My aunt and I arrive at the casino at the same time. She told me to meet her at the box office. I follow the directions given by casino employees and end up getting lost. It's true what they say about casinos- they are shaped like a maze and everything is in loops. It's hard to tell from the outside, but inside it's loop after loop after loop.

I finally met up with my aunt to get my ticket with an hour to spare before the concert. "Here," she says as she hands me a massive ticket and a backstage pass sticker for the after show. "Cool" I say as I peel the back and slap it on my leg. "We get to be special tonight".

I follow her back to the resturant where her and her friends were eating. The table only sat 4 and there wasn't enough room for me. In fact I got evil stares from the waitresses as they passed by carrying armloads of food and milkshakes to starving customers. She mentions that my cousin is at some BBQ joint and I excuse myself from their company to find the rest of my family.

Although the Mohegan Sun Casino is nice, there were too many shops. If it weren't for the ringing of the slot machines and the abundance of slow walking elderly blowing away their Social Security checks, I would have thought I was at a mall.

I wander up the stairs, avoiding the escalators at all costs and take off to the right to see if I can find the rest of my brood. As I peer in the windows of the resturants I pass, people gawk at me as much as I them. At the last stop, I see the rest of my family sitting around a large table eating their dinners.

I push pass the crowd and make my way to the table. This place was only slightly less crowded than the last. At least there is enough room for me to stand by the table and chat for a minute. My cousin offers me a chair and I refuse trying to excuse myself to find a beer and have a smoke before the concert starts.

Having no luck finding a good place to sit and drink for a short time before the concert began, I make my way into the Arena. *Sigh* My first true Arena Rock concert. Inside the doors, I spot the Sam Adams cart. I'm dying for a Sammy, but they won't take my card so I'm reduced to drinking a $6 Bud Light from a cheap plastic bottle.

I pass my ticket off to the person at the door and they escort me to my seat. Not bad. We're on the floor, about 7-10 rows back, and I happen to have the middle seat ticket, which is right behind a very short kid. Nice.

I nurse my expensive cheap beer for a few minutes until my family arrives. My cousin tries to convice me to take her to a metal show. She said she'd even allow me to dress her. Then she decides it's beer time for her and her friend. I slam mine down and decide that if I'm going to pay for one expensive bottle of beer, I might as well buy two knowing full well that one of their beers could buy me at least a 6 pack of the same brand at a package store.

My cousin Kim, who is Tom's wife, stopped by to say hello, she took off as Styx hit the stage. I slam my second beer down and realize I have to pee. And since I'm in that area, why the hell not get another beer? A few minutes later, I sneak back to my chair, stepping on everyone's toes on the way back.

I'm sure the people in my row loved me. But you know, once you break the seal, it's over.

Boston took the stage after about a half hour change over. I missed it all as there was a black curtian up and I too had to join the hordes of smokers. A group came near me an I could hear them muttering about not being caught. Well, gee, I wonder what they are doing. Then they moved over slightly and I follow. I offer them the cover of my clove cigarette smell. I might not smoke it, but dammit, it's a concert gotta be cool.

I buy my last beer from the girl at the counter. I think I keep going back because she flattered me. Her and her boss thought I was only 19 while her co worker swore I was 25. They about fell over when I told them I'd hit 30 in about 6 weeks. I don't mind being carded though, makes me feel young and the fact that I fool most people into thinking I'm younger... well then I can't blame them.

I stumble back through the doors to the seating area. The security at the door dont' even check my ticket anymore. In a crowd of a couple thousand, I take it as a compliment that I stick out. Then again, having to pee every 10 minutes really is helping the cause too.

I get into my seat in enough time to see the curtain fall for Boston. The crowd immedatly got to their feet and started dancing and clapping. I too got to my feet and jived with the music. Even though my earplugs muffled the sound, the tone was perfect. Not a note off and not one instrument or vocal coming through or fading out more than what was supposed to.

I miss seeing concerts like that where the sound is immaculate. During one of the ballads, I sat down and my body started to fall alseep on me. My eyes closed and I fell into the music just letting my body rest. I hate being the old fart who falls alseep at shows, especially when every one in my group has a good 10+ years on me.

After the final band bow, and we were pushed over to section 14 to wait for the after show party. My cousin was a little disappointed as she was expecting it to be like the 80's- drinking, drugs, groupies.. but no. We were sent to the buffet room to hang out for a while until the guys were ready.

Granted our total wait time was only about 15 minutes, which was suprising to me. I expected to wait more than about 30 minutes. A few minutes of being the room and I have to pee again. I ask if there is a place I can go and I'm escorted through what the security calls, "secret backstage area" everything in there was secret. Secret dumpster, secret wall, secret pillar, secret bathroom.

It was slightly amusing has this been my first rodeo, but it wasn't and her banter wasn't really that cute. I don't get star struck anymore, and being backstage, while cool, isn't that impressive to me any more. I probally have more passes and stickers than she could shake a stick at.

Shortly after I get back to the green room, I hear a loud applause. It's Gary. He starts on one side of the room and starts shaking everyone's hand. I notice his eyes are blank, almost like what he was doing was a menial part of his job. Although he didn't act like it. When he got to my aunt, she started to gush about how great he was on stage and how cool it must be. I start to get embarassed.

I don't act like that in front of famous people anymore. I've been spoiled so much around big name musicians, I see them as normal people. Sure I'll talk shop here and there, but I'm sure the musicians are just as tried of hearing the same old cliches as they are repeating them back to appease the person to feel grateful. "Great show tonight! You were awesome!" "Thanks for coming." "It's a pleasure to see you."

Shortly after Gary leaves our table, I hear another round of applause this time it's for Michael Sweet. I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him for a moment.

When Boston played in Minnesota, my family out there went to the show. My mom called me later the next day and told me she had a long conversation with Michael. She never really gave me specifics on it at all, but needless to say, it really affected her in a good way. I wanted to make sure I said something to Michael about it.

Michael is stopped about 3 people from us and bombarded with fans. I don't want to present myself as a groupie, as I'm not. I'm just a messanger. Just as he moves over, Kim comes to bring us to see Tom. We walk by Michael and he stops us to say hello.

He extends his hand to me and looks in my eyes as he does and spurts the cliche, "Thanks for coming." His eyes have the same look that Gary's did. "Michael, it's nice to meet you. I don't want to keep you, but you met my mother in Minnesota a few weeks back." His eyes lit up and he let out a genunie smile.

He doesn't look old at all, and only gives his age when the lines around his eyes crease with recogonition, I continue, "After the show she called me and said she spent a good deal of time talking with you. She didn't give me details at all, but I wanted to let you know that you spending that time and talking with her really touched her." His other hand moved to top mine and he asked me my name. He then said, "thank you,'' and I could see in his eyes that he meant it. As I moved to let the person behind me say their thoughts, he complimented my purple hair. (As a disclaimer- NOTHING inapproiate was discussed between them from what I understand and from what my mother said, it felt like old friends talking.)

I quickly followed out behind my family to see Tom. I hadn't seen him since he sat next to me at my cousins wedding where we talked briefly about the future of music. I can only imagine to his delight that the house was full and that the crowds have been kind.

I again became embarassed when my own family started pulling out cameras and getting pictures with him. All I could think was, "This is family! You don't treat your family like rockstars..." I feel that posed pictures backstage at a show dehumanized him. At least he was very gracious.

As my family tapered off, I too decided it was time to head home. I ran into Michael one more time and wanted to finish talking to him. He was in the middle of signing something and I didn't want to bother him, but he waved me over. I explained, "I wanted to let you know one more thing, but I was off to see Tom." Upon hearing Tom, he tried to flag him down, but I explained that I had already seen him and was on my way out the door, but wanted to mention one last thing to him.

While I said my final piece to Michael, he again became at ease with me. It was short and sweet and as I shook his hand one last time, he put his hand on my shoulder in a sweet gesture and wished me well.

I am escorted from backstage and caught up with my family who had left just before I did. They ask how I got out of a different door. I shrug. I guess I always get the special treatment where ever I go. *wink*

I walk them to their doors and try unsuccessfully to find my way out. My smokes are gone and I want to buy a pack before I left anyway. Back in Minnesota, the cigarettes in the casino's were always dirt cheap, so I assume the same there as well. For $10 a pack, I decide the long drive home down the dark twisted tree lined roads of Connecticut would be better spent smoke free.

-Metal

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