
Paying $500 for two tickets?
Nearly having an infarction during the one hour drive from work to home (usually twenty minutes) and then a two and a half hour drive from home to Oakland Coliseum (usually forty minutes)?
Waiting in line to buy us stadium food for dinner for twenty five minutes while sweaty drunk people pushed passed me like NBA players shouldering past a defender on the way to a two handled slam dunk that shatters the glass backboard?
Paying $38.50 for dinner? (Two enormo-police dogs. Two not so enormo-police beers (it was FatTire at least). One nachos.)
Paying $35.00 for a t-shirt?
Paying $20.00 for a program?
Seeing the Police, the one band I regretted missing as a young hooligan?
Meh.
Just kidding. I couldn’t bring myself to make the “priceless” joke. Though I suppose that was my original intent. Anyway, I really enjoyed the show, though a lot of other people didn’t it seems. I think the difference is that I like it when bands play things differently than the records, which they definitely did. I think maybe this is because I’m a (somewhat lapsed) musician and I like improvisation and new arrangements. Whatever.
My only complaints were that I ate my enourmo dog with no condiments because if I had to stand in another line I would have well, taken it, but I would have grumbled. And I didn’t want to grumble. Or stand in line. Or even find the damn relish. Also my feet fell asleep standing in my tiny tiny little area in front of my tiny tiny little seat because I didn’t even really have space to dance, which I wouldn’t have anyway, but still, did my space have to BE so damn tiny? A couch seat on turbo prop commuter flight is the frickin’ hearst castle in comparison, and besides the drunk couple next to me were continually slobbering on each other and singing along to the songs, but to each other in some disturbing romantic gesture, to each other like it was a high school prom and they were gazing into each other eyes under the mirrorball in the gymnasium, in their baby blue polyester, all the while batting me with random body parts like elbows, hands, asses, and god knows what else. I made a point of not really finding out.
Ah well, I’d do it again.
Here’s a couple of really really bad videos from my phone (you’ve been warned):
008.3gp (1.31 MB)
009.3gp (1.31 MB)
015.3gp (1.42 MB)
Yeah, that song is seriously hard on Guitar Hero.