…I get so overwhelmed by…
I can’t remember exactly, but I think when Neil jumped out of the car behind the convention center to head over to the line, he already had some goose masked in a water bottle. Believe we set them up at the hotel, and I had mine ready in the cooler. So after I pulled into a spot on the perimeter of the lot, near the port-o-lets, port-o-potties, johnny-on-the-spots, but facing out to the street, the remaining lots and the coliseum beyond, I turned off the engine, but kept the 2/28/03 Tweezer blasting on the system, and reached in the back for the goose, and in my pocket for my bullet.
No, I don’t mean THAT. I’ve been convined by most of you here not to use the metal bullet pipe because of the loose aluminum ions that are released upon heating, so I don’t usually. But for these kinds of situations, it’s very very handy because it’s discreet to use, people can barely understand what I’m doing with that lighter.
So I hung out and relaxed for about twenty minutes, enjoying the music, the drink and the smoke, and most of all the thoughts that were flooding in now about the first Phish show in four and half years. I had been unable to conceptualize about what to expect for that first show, that’s why I couldn’t enjoin in the Hampton Pick 25 game that the BigB set up. It was too much for me to deal with because my mind would have just snapped with all of the projected guesses and songs I really wanted to hear.
But I was feeling really good about everything so far. All events leading up to that moment were pretty damn near wonderful. So I decided to walk the lots a bit and see what folks were up to. But first I wanted to text Neil to see where he was and if he had met up with the rest of the Pa.
Texting. I’ve only had my cell phone for about two years. Marie has had one much longer, but I never wanted to be bothered between land line phones. Having a phone in the car, always seemed more of a bother than a good tool. And before last Thursday when I got into the car for the drive to Hampton, I think I had used my cell once to return a text message someone had sent me. So obviously I didn’t have a text plan on my service.
Found out just last night, when Marie and I went to Verizon to add texting to our plan, that I had sent/received 120 messages between Thursday and Sunday while on the Hampton trip. I’m hooked, and if I could turn my phone on right now at work (not allowed in the building because it has a camera), I’d be texting anyone and everyone who gave me a telno.
So I was walking, or even possibly stumbling, around the lot and stopped to buy a Magic Hat Number 9 from a couple of guys from the Albany area. Post hiatus fans who managed to get their tix through the initial lottery, and who were, unsurprisingly, straining at the bit until the show started.
We talked a bit about that feeling and all agreed that there was no way to understand that kind of level of excitement. It was beyond any rational sense, but they knew what I was talking about, and told them about when I first experienced that emotional hook during the first set closing Antelope at Darien Lakes in the summer of 97. Told them at times it makes me feel like Richard Dryfus making a model of Devils Tower out of his mashed potatoes. They knew exactly what I was talking about.