Saturday, July 21, 2007

Rockstar status.

If there is anything that I would ever want to be - in the no-holds bar type of way, where the depressing limitations of reality are not an issue - it would be, hands down, a rockstar. I'm talking all-out A-list status (think: Gwen Stefani before she became annoying or Fergie but only when she was with the Black Eyed Peas) with a huge fan base, selling out shows, complete with groupies trying to flood my tour bus.

Clearly this is never going to happen, no matter how much I will it to. Of course, my mom didn't think this shit through when I was younger and force me to be something great enough that she could live vicariously through me. I don't know who signed her up for Parenting 101, but THAT'S the part she retained??
Anyway, the point is, that I love music and concerts. Definitely in the top 5 on the "Activities Worth Doing" list. More than I love the music though, I love the fantasizing about being with whichever lead singer is wearing his tight emo pants and token vintage tee crooning into the microphone. I probably even believe a little that it's possible. (Oh get off it, and let me have a little fun in my otherwise "regular" life).
It's just so fucking hot -- seriously. I don't give a fuck how lame the lyrics are...I'll make meaning of them. I don't give a fuck how many STD's the guy has....I'll pretend that I'm the best he would never know he could have. Bottom line -- musicians (and "musicians") are hot.

My first year of grad school I met a girl named Riki who was the fucking shit. We were like the two lone students that weren't totally lame. She was totally hipster punk, but more in the way of 200 dollar True Religion jeans, not in the 'Kill yourself, you're fucking emo and make me want to vomit on your 'suffering' soul' way. Anyway, her boyfriend was the merch guy for The Starting Line and was constantly on tour. When they came to Philly with Yellowcard (note: don't apply your inevitable - and warranted - despise for Yellowcard towards The Starting Line) she invited me to come to the concert and hang out while she saw her boyfriend.
Ok, seriously -- cut to fucking VIP stickers and press passes and hanging out on the tour bus and backstage with the band and their respective girlfriends (and by girlfriends, I mean groupies), trying to play it totally chill as if this shit doesn't faze me, but internally freaking out and being able to say, "I'm with the band". (I still have that VIP sticker....three years later). It was literally the highlight of my life. It was like I was thisclose. I'm seriously re-experiencing right now.

So last night, I went to the Goo Goo Dolls/Lifehouse concert. Now, I've seen Lifehouse before at the Electric Factory and am hopelessly infatuated with Jason Wade. Something about his FOB* look and husky voice. So clearly I'm willing to show up wherever he is.
But then there are the Goo Goo Dolls. I've loved Johnny Rzeznik and all his colored tattoo glory since their 1993 "Superstar Car Wash" album. Come on, the band has been around since 1987 (clearly evidenced by the 45 year old Jersey folk at the concert who are clearly still stuck in 1987) and continue to put out number one hits. I was going to be at this concert.
So PNC Bank Arts Center is amazing in the summer and the weather was perfect. Beached it for a couple of hours with my sister, grabbed some food and made our way over. Indulged Tamara in "tailgating" with a Miller Lite because she's finally 21 and then joined the hordes of teenyboppers and 45 year olds alike to make the mile hike up to the venue.
We were so 20th row. And then, due to T's expert "I don't give a shit, I'm pretty with blonde hair" attitude, we were in the 9th row against the ramp.
So first came Colbie Caillat (sweet name and sweet 13 year old fan base) and then Lifehouse. Mellow, sun's still out. I'm observing...judging...the stellar people around me.
Single 48 year old creeper eating ice cream and skulking.
Jersey pride bleached blonde fatty making friends behind me who is the loudest person I have ever heard and she came with a male co-worker who was like 27, semi-attractive and talking it up to the 19 year olds next to him. They were both teachers. Score. The guy was also wearing a shirt that said, "Awkward mornings beat a boring night". Again, score.
Two 37 year old women who were either cognitively impaired or hardcore lesbians or both. That's like a personal story....There's just not a good enough way to describe them in writing. Nor is there enough stomach power for me to do so either.
Then 9:05 and it's dark and there's Johnny in a flash of light belting out "Long Way Down". Hot. Totally, totally hot. Stage was awesome, vibe was awesome and Johnny was totally giving you sexy smirk like he knows you personally. Great combo of fast and slow. Some Black Balloon, Broadway, Name, Slide, Acoustic #3, Iris.....etc. It really couldn't get better. Amazing seats. Amazing view. Amazing music. Amazing Johnny.
Could it get better? I don't know if it was my sister's (genius) wardrobe choice of revealing dress over bathing suit or him just wanting to check out the creepy lesbians, but damn, he makes eye contact....comes down the ramp.....comes right up to me........and wait for it......reaches out his hand.
I have no words.
I just have Johnny Rzeznik's mansweat forever impaled on my left hand.
And in the few shitty months that I've named the 'Summer of Suck', this was the absolute highlight.

Please.......for your viewing pleasure:

*FOB - Fresh Off the Boat

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