My most recent obsession is undoubtably music. While I've always had eclectic taste and open ears, lately my taste for tunes has been "kicked up a notch". I think it started when I won tickets to New Orleans on the radio. Falling for Gerard had something to do with it too.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see MCR (among others) on the Warped Tour. It was hell trying to get someone to absorb my extra ticket. I should just start buying them in singles, since finding a partner is like pulling teeth. You'd think that people would jump on a free concert ticket, but no. I did find someone, however, to accompany me to the Warped Tour. We saw Fallout Boy, Offspring, Billy Idol, Atreyu, and a band named "Thrice". I took a disposable camera with me, hoping to catch Gerard on film, but alas. I ended up with a picture of Billy Idol's shoulder and a couple of grainy shots of the stage lighting. Damn, damn and double damn! My hopes of throwing myself at Gerard were dashed as well, as the only entry to the tour bus parking was guarded.
When we went to see Fallout Boy, the crowd was crazy. I was kicked in the head by crowd surfers, almost lost my sandals (next time, I wear steel-toed boots!) and pummelled by empty water bottles. The bruises still haven't healed. So, my instinctive desire not to be crushed to death kicked in and I fought my way back to air. At that moment, I vowed that however nasty the crowd for MCR would be, I would stick it through to the end. Well, I made sure to shove my way close to the stage during the two preceeding acts. I was about 10 feet from stage when Gerard jumped on. The moment I spied him, chills surfed through my body. Here I was, just 10 feet from the man of my dreams! After the second song, the crowd went berzerk again. I tried to tough it out. People were crashing into me from the left and from the right. My toenails were torn off. People passed above and occasionally landed on top of me.
Well, I'm not a big girl. I weigh about 120 pounds. I couldn't even see the band anymore and the panic inside me was rising. So, I fought my way out again, stopping to help up an unfortunate girl who was almost trampled. Visions of European soccer games flashed in my mind and as I exited the throng, a tear came to my eye and a lump grew in my throat. Not because I was almost squished, not because it was at least a 100 degrees outside, and not because my toes were bleeding. It was because my heart was aching. My favorite MCR song swelled in the distance and Gerard shouted to the girls, "hey ladies - are these pants too tight?"
For the next couple of days, my emotions were raw. Every song that played on the radio seemed to sink right in and go straight to my heart. Good lord, there has to be some way to live in that atmosphere of rock and sweat. There has to be some way for me to be part of the music.
2 comments:
Let's start a rock band. I mean, I have no musical talent whatsoever, but why not give it a whirl? Let's see, we'll need two guitarist, a drummer, a bass player, a turntable scratcher, a flute player, a tambourine banger, a vocalist, and a rapper. We can hold open auditions on the 16th St Mall.
I call bass! I could maybe also do some vocals, as long as I get to scream them.
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