Thursday, August 27th, at roughly 1:00 in the afternoon, I began my adventure to the best of the three concerts I have been to. Rachel's mom, Mrs. K., drove her daughter, Sean L., Joel W. and me into Philly so that we could take the ferry across the Susquehanna into Camden. I got bitch seat because I'm the littlest. A ticket costs six dollars for adults and runs, on time, every hour on the hour. We took up our wait by seating ourselves on a flat slate barrier several feet above the murky water, but not many feet from the edge. Conversation was excellent, discussing the band, concert, friends, observations, and generally hilarious stories. Through the efforts of the boys, we listened to Taking Back Sunday and Weezer, two of the bands who would be headlining. Upon boarding the ferry, we got a seat on the upper deck, facing the water, and I read all of the safety guidelines should the ferry suffer any number of tragedies and require an emergency response. Philadelphia is a beautiful city, and I wish I had brought my sketch pad. Camden is not beautiful.
Because the concert opened its gates at 5:30, we were one of the earliest groups there, setting up Rachel's "stoner blanket" as the fifth group in line behind one of the gates. A man with a fanciful hipster hairdo asked us if we wanted pictures taken of us for Taking Back Sunday's website. Of course, we agreed, and I'm sure we were absolutely adorable. An unsucessful attempt at hackey sack was made, but while Sean was sufficiently capable and Joel bordering on "not bad," Rachel and I were lucky if we hit the tiny, bean-filled ball. It was initially meant to be a flirting technique, but it becames more of a hazard zone as all boys quickly hurried past our area of play.
Rachel had her heart deadset on buying the limited edition, silk-screened concert t-shirt that only 182 copies were made of. Because of this, when the very beginnings of a merchandise booth was being set up outside the gates, we immediately set up residence to wait. There, another concert goer named Jackie, started talking to us about the band, being broke, and general conversation. It was very pleasant, and coincidentally, the boys we had left to guard the blanket had separately begun talking to her boyfriend, as we found out later. At one point in our line waiting adventure, we saw that the boys were giving out their phone numbers to t-Mobile representatives. We laughed at them, until they shouted to us they were signed up to meet the band. Infuriated, but not leaving our place in line, Rachel called, and they said they had actually registered in a raffle to meet the band. While still upset they hadn't called us over, we laughed it off, saying there were 25,000 people coming to this concert and there's no way they could win. For safe measure, we signed up when they came over to the merchandise line.
One of the men setting up the booth had said that the limited edition t-shirt was going to be seventy dollars. Rachel was astounded, and didn't have the money because she had to buy advance ferry tickets for the people who had not arrived yet. I lent her my money, as I was five dollars short of any t-shirt. However, as the first people in line, we learned they did not have the limited edition shirt at this particular stand, and so Rachel gave my money back so I could buy fire engine red "Feeling This?" underwear. We took our place in line, which was almost organized because it was getting close to entrance time, and Joel had transformed the blanket saving our spot into "one badass scarf." I texted some, but it was generally good talking, laughing, and being excited.
5:30!!! They let us in the gates and Rachel immediately bolted for the nearest merchandise stand, shoving aside other quick ticket holders and being the first person to purchase one of the shirts she so desired. Luckily, the other guy was a liar, and this shirt was only thirty dollars, to her relief. Some of us went to the t-Mobile stand to get our free gifts of sidekick beach balls and to use the facilities. We met up with the rest of the kids we would be spending the concert with, namely Meg, Joe, Alex, Amanda, Steve, Hannah, and Mel. We had an incredible seat, with a small patch of grass, close and center. Here we stayed, with more laughing, talking, and excitement until Rachel got a phone call. Chester French had started playing very loudly, disrupting the phone call, so Rachel ran towards an open spot to be able to hear. I very excitedly watched her, her far off leaps and bounds revealing that she, of the 25,000 concert guests, was going to meet blink-182. I ran off after her, ready to worship her feet after she met them, eager to hear how the incredible meeting went. At first, she ran to the wrong end, and was fearful she would be too late. Luckily, she arrived in the right spot and she was given a pink wrist band. Luckily for me, she got to bring a guest, to our surprise.
The guy who was organizing the event for t-Mobile had a sense of humor, and because of Rachel's extreme reaction of happiness, he sorta messed with her. Almost unbelievably, while waiting in line, we found out that Jackie's boyfriend who had been talking to the boys had also won and Jackie was going to meet the band as well. With a complete lack of dignity, Rachel and I started calling everyone we knew who would bother to care. My brother was jealous, but manly calm about it. Then, at their order, we got in a single file line and excitedly walked into the arena, waiting in a food court for access to the backstage area. While there, not two feet from a trashcan and only a few staggered steps from a bathroom, an inebriated young man puked. Rachel, who was excited to a point beyond what is medically healthy and usually has a mirror reaction to that action, was doing fine, to my great relief. Backstage, they told us that we could not have any cameras and that all three of the band members would sign one object for us, but not to ask for anything else.
We were waiting through the end of Chester French and through Taking Back Sunday. The only bad part is that the line was right outside of the catering area, and caterers know how to cook to please the senses when all we had eaten was overpriced chicken and fries. Finally, the band came out and set up their autograph table. Rachel went a small ways out of line to get a better look, and Mark gave her the standard man head nod. She just about shrieked and swooned. All of the security guards were joking about the fangirl reactions we were having and put us at ease. They allowed one or two people at a time at the table. First Rachel, then I joined her and told them that while I was a big fan, my brother was an even bigger one. They signed the underwear I had just purchased and we received free stickers and a CD of Travis and DJ-AM (who died in a coke overdose two days later, on August 29th). Tom told Mark to cover his face, because Rachel was crying, and hugged her. Apparently, he's cuddly. Then, we took a picture of the group together and led us away.
We got back in between sets, and Weezer was not on yet. I enjoy most of their singles, but have no idea about any of the other songs on their albums. Their performance etiquette was fantastic and it really psyched up the whole crowd. Thanks to radio 104.5, I knew the words to their new single "If You're Wondering If I Want You To (I Want You To)," which I thoroughly enjoy. Their last song was "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" During which, I was squished between two guys jumping and I did my best to jump with them. It was fun. After their sets were finished, they played keyboard cat. Then, blink!! They opened with The Anthem, Part 2. Tom was the tinest bit drunk, and while very funny, made many a dick and fart joke.
Joel and I rocked out and sang every line until he found (or formed) a mosh pit right in front of us. We ran into Evan P., Max G., Joe P., and Taylor J., the first of whom also participated in the moshing. I pretty much jumped and sang and danced to every line. I got a little bit moshed on and a little bit grabbed by the waist by a drunk guy until Meg saved me. Tom forgot a few of the lyrics, but the crowd carried him through and it was overall a great performance. They closed with Reckless Abandon, and the crowd refused, chanting "One more song! One more song!" At that, Travis came out, and in his levitating, spinning, and angling drum set, played "Some West Coast Shit." Then, the rest of the band came out and eventually finished with Dammit. They played all of my favorite songs and two I didn't know the lyrics to, one of them being Man Overboard.
The line for the ferry back was hell (this line will last forever, and ever, and ever...), but it still saved more time than if Sean's dad had driven up through Jersey, paying tolls and fighting traffic. We realized that during the concert, someone had kicked Rachel's bag and we had lost four of the tickets and had to buy new ones back. After getting tickets, but before getting on the boat, we sang "On a Boat." Though by some mighty miracle, they told our group they only had room left for ten people, the exact number we happened to be. We were glad we did not have to face the embarrassment of a.) not being on a boat after singing that and b.) facing the wrath of everyone who heard us singing.
There was sleepy conversation on the way back and Mr. L. is an interesting guy. I woke up incredibly sore. My neck still hurts a lil' bit.
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