I hope you guys had a great weekend. Ours was nice, thank you very much.
On Saturday morning there was quite a bit of snow outside, but we made the kids shovel the sidewalk and driveway. Therefore, it was completely painless for Toney and me. Yes, I think the boys could see their futures flashing before their eyes… It certainly won’t be their final shovel-session.
I also watched Tucker & Dale vs. Evil on Netflix Instant, which I loved. Thanks to the person who suggested it in the comments! And I got some much-needed sleep, yet was somehow able to mark 13 items off my big 17 item to-do list.
It was pretty close to perfect: the kind of weekend you hope for and rarely get. I hated to see it end, but believe I’m only working my normal four days this week, which will be a slam-dunk. It’ll be over in the wink of a sphincter.
On Friday I bought a case of Yuengling, and picked up a local freebie entertainment newspaper on my way out the door. When I got home I flipped through it, and checked out the concert listings. I only go to one or two shows per year at this point, but still look to see who’s coming, out of habit.
I was surprised to see that The Amazing Kreskin(!) will be making an appearance in Scranton. He was on TV when I was a kid, and seemed old then. What is he now, 103?? Tickets are $15 general admission, or $35 for the show and a meet-and-greet afterward. I wouldn’t mind going, if you want to know the truth.
There will also be a craft beer festival at the Scranton Cultural Center, in mid-April. Over 50 breweries will be represented. Toney and I will probably end up going to that shindig. ‘Cause we love that kind of “culture.”
But as far as music goes… nothing. Oh well. Who cares? I’d probably just wimp-out anyway, like I did a few weeks ago when Steve Earle played here. Earle, of course, is my favorite communist country & western singer, and I vowed to go to his show. But did I? No I did not. I’ve become a true blue ball-baby bitch, when it comes to live music.
And to make me feel a little better about it, I’ve decided to briefly tell you about a few especially annoying people I’ve encountered at rock shows in the past. Of course I’ve been to hundreds of them, and this list isn’t very long. But let’s not dwell on that part of it, shall we?
I’m sure I’m forgetting some great tales, but here are the stories that jump immediately to my mind. After I’m finished, please feel free to keep the ball rolling in the comments.
When I was in early high school, I went to the Huntington Civic Center to see Foreigner, Wet Willie, and Nantucket. Well, I actually went to see Foreigner… those other bands just happened to be playing as well.
In front of me were two guys snorting cocaine (I presume) off a tiny spoon that one of them had around his neck on a chain. This freaked me out, because I’d never seen anyone actually snorkel drugs up their nose like that. It made me feel creepy.
And the guy who wasn’t sporting the spoon had a giant zit on the back of his neck. It was the size of a nickel, with a big pus eye in the middle of it. The dude was all cranked up and constantly in motion. And that staring pimple almost hypnotized me; I hated it, but couldn’t look away.
The whole ordeal made me want to go home, pause briefly in the doorway, and hug my parents.
When Steve and I went to see Steely Dan at The Omni in Atlanta, an old black man was dancing around in front of us, holding his trench coat as wide open as possible and blocking the view of dozens of people behind him. Including us.
People started hollering: “Sit down! We can’t see back here!!”
And the old guy turned and yelled, “No, you stand up! You conservative punks!!”
WTF? It got fairly heated, and the old coat-dancer would NOT back down. He announced that he was a longtime fan of Donald Fagen(?!), and was going to have a good time. So, fuck all y’all.
Eventually an usher made the guy sit down or move, I can’t remember. But the ridiculousness didn’t last long. I thought “conservative punks” was an odd thing to say, and was also surprised to learn of his allegiance to just one specific member of the band.
At a Paul Westerberg show, at the Cotton Club in Atlanta, some guy kept slamming and knocking into people, and punches were almost thrown.
I’ve been to lots and lots of shows, and know the protocol. There’s a mosh pit, in front of the stage, for certain acts. But further back is supposed to be reserved for regular people who just want to see the band. This guy was far outside the mosh area, but was bouncing around and nearly knocking people to the floor. He was acting like he was at a Sex Pistols show in 1977.
He bumped into me a few times, and I let it go. But eventually I snapped. I shoved him hard, and told him to get off me. He regained his footing and charged at me, but I was furious and came at him, as well. And he backed-down. When he realized I was pissed and ready to fight, he lost his nerve. Of course he probably would’ve kicked my ass… but luckily it didn’t go that far. The guy just rammed his way through the crowd, and was gone.
A few of the other people nearby thanked me, and patted me on the back. The dude was a blue-ribbon asshole, and I’d somehow vanquished him. It was good stuff.
And finally, at a big-time arena show in Greensboro… It was either AC/DC or ZZ Top, but it doesn’t really matter. Everybody was drunk, there were millions of hicks in the house, and many of them were cranking off rebel yells and the like.
Between the opening act and the headliner I was horrified to realize I needed to take a leak. And it probably wasn’t holdable.
So, I went to the men’s room and it was complete pandemonium, as I knew it would be. Everybody was yelling and shoving, and pissing into anything even vaguely bowl-like. And that included three or four guys per sink, a couple at each trash can, and one dude standing in the middle of the room, wiener-out, urinating straight into the floor drain between his feet.
It was a sea of penises, and the roar was not unlike Niagara Falls. Guys were peeing and hollering “WHOOOOO!!” like they were riding a roller coaster, and a few had their shirts off and whipping them above their heads. While pissing. I was kinda worried about my safety.
But I made it. I was a snob and waited for an actual fancy-pants toilet. And I got out of there without receiving a stripe of urine across my back, or anything like that. But it was definitely touch and go for a few minutes.
Now it’s your turn. Please use the comments section to tell us your stories about annoying people at rock concerts.
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself at Amazon: US and Canada
Long live Tesla!
Heck yeah! Tesla rocks. Saw them at Cal Expo in Sacramento one time. Fun times!
Good Morning Surf Reporters…..
Computer acting a little wonky. Not sure if this is going to post or not…
See, it’s stuff like “in the wink of a sphincter” that keeps bringing me back.
agreed!
George Jones, Salem, Virginia Civic Center 4 or 5 yesrs sgo. A family of folks carried on a running conversation about that day’s events in their trailer park. They talked loud enough to be heard in a saw mill.I tried to enlist an usher to ask them to hold it down to no avail. They were drowning out poor old George who should have hung it up years ago. Finally I turned sround and as politely as possible told them to “shut the fuck up.” It worked! Later when George asked the audience to sing they said “we can’t”
Rush concert, late 80’s, “Hold your fire” tour, Binghamton, NY….
We were standing in a good position, just a few yards from the stage. Then the only guy in the whole arena who was taller than me decided to work his way in front of me and block my view.
Black Flag, Ann Arbor 1985. First punk show I went to. Was naive and new roommate brought me. Right in front of stage when band started. Everyone starts running around smashing into one another. What the fuck is this? To survive I decide to elbow back at everyone that comes near me. Was like “smear the queer” in elementary school. Then my shoe comes off and slides under the two foot high stage. I can see it under the stage. I get down on my knees and start reaching for it. Bad idea, crowd surges forward pressing my neck against stage edge. I can’t fucking breath. I gonna fucking die here. I’m either gonna choke to death or my neck is gonna snap. I manage to wiggle my hand in front of my neck and push so I have some space to get oxygen to my brain but am still stuck. Crowd surges back. I duck under and grab my shoe, crowd surges forward, I wait. Make my escape when crowd moves back again. Have sore trachea for days.
Is that a penis or thumb in the Bunker cam?
Holy shit, you’re right! I was certain that it was a dick, or, perhaps, “dick.” But yeah, it’s a thumb.
yeah i just looked at that, thats sick lol
I’d somehow vanquished him. That’s Funny!
Tool @ Bojangles Arena in Charlotte a few years ago. A methed out dickhead trying to create his own mosh pit started slamming into everyone and throwing punches (eventually got beat down by several hardcore fans wanting to actually see the show), the cliche unconscious chick who probably od’d and 1 arrest. Oh & I may have been among 6 people who didn’t have a lit cigarette out. But hey, you have to expect that at a Tool show.
Not quite rock, but I had an enormous asshole seated behind me at a John Prine concert at the Charleston Civic Center—not exactly a huge arena—who spent the entire show singing along (loudly) and hollering out such bon mots as, “Yeah, John!!” and “That’s my SONG!!” Idjit.
My cousin and I paid a very premium price to get second row seats for the Rolling Stones at Shea Stadium – 1989. The Asian twat sitting behind us asked if we could SIT DOWN bcause she couldn’t see. She was probably comped the tickets while I had to work a good 40 hours OT to pay for mine.
Aretha Franklin concert – we were trying to get into our seats and had to ask – 4 times- some dumb turd to move since he was in the wrong seat, causing some lady behind us to shreech “I DIN’T PAY NO FOWDY DOLLAHS TO SEE YO HEADS BOBBIN’ AND WEAVIN”.. yeah yeah yeah, sistah, take a fuckin’ chill.
Was the chick behind you at the Urethra Franklin show named Gytina?
If you’re in the second row, then SIT THE FUCK DOWN. You can see just fine without making everyone else in all the hundreds of rows behind you also have to stand up for three hours.
Sorry, madz, by I’m with the Asian twat on this one.
How in the hell do you sit down at a Rolling Stones concert? Maybe if they take a break and do “Angie” or “Memory Motel” or “Fool to Cry” (which you’d hope they wouldn’t do). Other than that, c’mon. Get up and rock!
Well, since it was at Shea and it was the Steel Wheels Tour – you had to crane your neck to see over the lip of the stage. Had I stayed seated, I would hav ebeen staring at a fence and a line of cops’ crothes. Oh and this was when they FIST CAME OUT. Who the fuck stays seated when the band finally hits the stage?
And yeah, NOBODY with a pulse SITS at a Stones concert. Even cripples in wheelchairs bounce and gyrate.
cops crotches! Sheesh.
Two words you don’t see together too often.
Even when they FIST CAME OUT. Cops, crotches and fisting only go together at a Stones concert or in one of those adult films made in Orange County.
jtb
I once went to see the dirty bungholes play at the downtown Des Moines IHOP, and David Lee Roth ruined the show with his constant antics. He kept flailing around in his spandex jumpsuit yelling “look at me, look at me everybody”. I might have dreamed that, though…
I remember that concert. What a douche DLR was.
I saw King Crimson at the Columbus Agora in 1982. Halfway through the show, the douche next to me whips it out and starts pissing right there on the floor. It’s spraying all over my shoes and the back of the legs of the guy in front of me.
I gave him a shove and down he went, cock out pissing all over himself. Security came over and dragged him out by his neck, It made no sense, The Agora was not some huge arena, it was a small club and he could have been in and out of the bathroom in under two minutes.
Speaking of King Crimson, I once saw Robert Fripp solo at a small venue. After the show, (which consisted of ponderous swooshes of sound accompanied by a lame Mac screen-saver projected on a screen) he had a Q & A session. A guy with a beer stood up and drunkenly asked a legitimate question. Robert’s reply was to prissily ask the guy to “please stick that beer bottle up your ass.”
I still like Fripp even though he did come across as a real douche. There was a surprising quantity of drunks for such an arty show, though.
Yeah, I’ve always heard that Fripp was something of a prick, but the one time I saw him (with KC) he was fine – probably because no audience interaction.
Keith Jarrett, though – now THERE’S a prima donna.
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me and my now ex boyfriend went to philly to see a rap concert and we were pretty much in front of the stage, everyone was standing on their chairs watching the show, well the rapper 50 cent took his yankee cap off and threw it in the crowd and it went right in my boyfriends hand, well this girl behind us tried to yank it from him but he held on strong and this bitch literally dragged my bf up the isle of the venue on his back trying to get this hat out of his hands until the thing ripped right in half, like really this hood rat had some mega strength. needless to say that was the first and last hip hop show i went to.
Grateful Dead in State College, PA circa 1980(?). Some wiry, long-haired dude is dancing around in an Indian (feather, not dot) poncho. Before you know it, the poncho is gone and he’s skin-and-bones, buck-assed naked. Security closes in but the guy vanishes. He reappears on the other side of the arena. Security closes in again and he vanishes again. This goes on for about 1/2 of the concert until the security folks get tired and give up,
Sounds like he took the “brown” acid.
I forgot about a George Carlin concert -Peekskill, NY 2007 – some girl sitting behind us kept yelling out shit like “I WANNA GIVE YOU A BLOW JOB” and then she started this friggin’ Gregorian chanting.
She literally stopped George wtice and he yelled out “Can someone slip a dick into that eprson???” He was pissed.
I complained to the theater and got 2 free (unused) tickets to see Gordon “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” Lightfoot. Couldn’t go at the last minute but it was nice they tried to compensate us.
by any chance is the bunker cam nancy and translucents?
Don’t even get me started on Hall & Oates.
Once at a Steve “Guitar” Miller show, a woman on something (perhaps antibiotics) got on stage and molested the guitar hero. She seemed crazy.
Sunshine?
At an Ass Ponys / Throwing Muses show after stopping a bitch from overzealously dancing with a cigarrette (Almost burned us) she brained my girlfriend with a beer bottle when the lights went down between sets. Classy.
I’ve been to about 5 to 10 marylyn manson shows. Nothing but assholes.
Got punched at an impotent seasnakes concert
I got thrown off stage at the Cotton Club during a clutch show (an anticipated move).
And the biggest asshole ever…..Beatle Bob.
About the best I can do is: tall fucks who stand in front of me at the 9:30 Club.
32nd, woo-hoo.
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In case anyone is interested, this is what I did today.
T
http://youtu.be/dNYP30mcbpE
TF?
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Interesting
Jump Little Children (NC School of the Arts “hey, let’s form a band!” band) at the Lincoln Theatre in Raleigh, ca. 2003. I’m standing next to a douche who has obviously been comped, and knows every fucking word to every fucking song, and doesn’t mind letting everybody know at 120 fucking decibels. I finally turn to him and say “hey, I paid to hear THEM sing the songs, not you, can you turn it down a little?” Fucker goes nuts and threatens to “kick my ass all over town” when the show is over. Fortunately, his more sober friend realizes this guy is the only one getting their ass kicked (I would have knocked him into the middle of the next week and not looked back – the look on my face said it all) – he gets him out of the way, to his backstage pass so he can blow the band, quietly by show’s end.
aaand, that’s where I go to church now.
Really.
But they’re still pulling in some good acts that don’t seem to need to play on Sunday mornings. Meant to go see Unknown Hinson there are couple of weeks ago, but the Mister was playing out that night and I didn’t want to go by myself,. That jsut would have been weird.
Embarrassingly enough, I have some of these stories. Went to a concert with a buddy who got comped tickets to see a bunch of shitty emo bands in 2006. Herd of Asian girls behind us on a packed lawn decides they’re going to tromp over my blanket to get closer (you bought lawn seats, you ain’t gettin any closer with those tickets) and kicks over my nine dollar beer. Consider me pissed. So I spent the rest of that show trying to find things to throw into her hair. Eventually ended up throwing other people’s things at her when she started screaming along with the vocals. Everyone around us was betting what I could or could not throw into her hair without noticing. Turns out you notice gum long before you notice a caramel apple sucker in your hair if you’re asian. Also went to see Blues Traveler at a festival and got asked literally 30 times if I was a police officer. Never wearing khakis and a black shirt with sunglasses to a festival again.
My one big deal was before the concert even started. MGM Grand, Vegas…Jimmy Buffet. We started around two in the afternoon ‘getting ready’..(ahem) for the nights fun and were in no mood for anything but just that. Waltzed in with our, “Nice to see you again”, tickets, set our fins to the right and headed to the make-shift grass shack beer station. We joined in the line and mingled with Parrott Heads from all flights of life but all with the same ‘mind set’ as ours. All but one. The guy was slowly inching his way up the line. Acting like he was looking for someone and then just stand there and blend in. The three lines at shack were at least 30 deep each and he was working his way up each a little at a time and beginning to ruffle quite a few feathers along his way. Well I decided to clip the guy’s wings and put an end to his intrusions. My wife gave me a, “Oh shit…you’re not gonna do what I think you are?”, look and I left the line. All the Parrotts became quiet, heads turning and necks craning with sideways glances following my course. I stopped just short of his beak and then remembered the rules of the jungle. When you’re at the MGM in Vegas at a Buffett concert… you do not start any shit. You go find Tarzan. Three Tarzans to be exact. They swung into action and surrounded the beast quickly subduing him as I recieved squwaks of praise from my multi-colored friends. I retuned to my place in line and called out…”It’s the beer line man…show some respect.” And the night was an abosloute blast.
“super” stadium show in the 70’s..three rivers..pittsburgh..clapton..todd rundgren..edgar winter and more..we were sitting way up @ the top level..folks behind us tossing firecrackers..one lands on my back blowing a hole in my shirt..i get razzed about that to this day..good times.