Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while know that I like music.
In fact I like almost all the genres, or at least appreciate them all. To me, when it comes to music and other art forms, whatever you like is what you like and it shouldn’t matter to anyone else. S0 there.
Ever since I can remember I listened to music. Whether it was on the AM radio in my parents big old green Chevy Impala or the 8-track tapes blasting the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack in our Chrysler Cordoba (Corinthian Leather!) while on family trips.
Later, as I grew up I got my own Ghetto Blaster and hit to the streets of my
little quiet slice of a suburban California city hood.
Listening to music can be relaxing and inspiring. It helped me tune out the din of my college roommates when I was studying and continues to help me avoid the blabbering of coworkers today in cubeland.
But there is nothing like a live show. Concerts…that’s where it’s at. I went to my first concert back in the early 80’s. Back when big arena shows were “it” a guy named Bill Graham started something called Day on the Green. Those shows simply kicked ass. No other way to describe it. Hit the link and check out the list of all the shows. Brilliant!
Through the years, I’ve seen all kinds of shows. Everything from The Stones, The Who, Mötley Crüe and Aerosmith. I’ve seen Elton John, Billy Joel, as well as Lyle Lovett. Rush, Pearl Jam and Oingo Boingo (5 times!)
Side note: If you don’t know Oingo Boingo, check them out. Danny Elfman, the lead singer, has gone on to score many, many movies. He’s way underrated.
Years ago, I even had my “Summer of Rock.” That summer I saw Van Halen, Guns N’ Roses and AC/DC. One summer. Three shows. Lots of head banging.
I’ve seen dozens and dozens of concerts over the years. And, honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a bad show.
Back when I was young, foolish and not scared shitless at the thought of getting crushed by a ton of people on all kinds of illegal substances, I loved the idea of General Admission, or Festival-Seating. Get there early. Gates open. GO! Rush into the arena and get as close as you can to the stage. Tons of fun.
I even used to sleep out on a sidewalk in front of the record store (Youngins that’s were we used to have to go to buy our music encased in some form of plastic – a record, cassette, or later the CD – Google it).
But, once I started losing my hair, I also started losing my patience for general admission seats. Now that I’m older…I just can’t do that festival-seating thing anymore. Now it’s all about getting a proper seat. Look don’t get me wrong, I still want to be as close as possible, but it must include a firmly anchored, plastic and metal folding chair to impede the hipsters from crushing me. After all, I’ve got a job to go to in the morning and a family to feed!
Unfortunately, it’s getting harder to buy decent seats. Now, there’s no sleeping outside like a Hobo for tickets. Today it’s done all online. Much more convenient, and frankly, it’s both dryer and warmer. But, even this is not without its challenges.
Recently, I was all over getting seats at the local stop of the Boss’ tour (no not the Boss Man; youngins The Boss is Bruce Springsteen. Google it. He’s the man. Get over it.) So, the day the tickets went on sale I was clicking madly on my keyboard. Ticketmaster here I come! Logged in. Online a mere 10 seconds after tickets went on sale. Selected “best available.” How many seats? 2 please. Click submit and watch the little spinney thing go. “Please wait, this may take a few moments. Do not refresh or you will lose your spot.”
Bingo! 2 seats. $165 each (ugh, but it’s for the Boss!). Note location: Seats are behind the stage. SWEET! Back stage! No…wait…not back stage?
“Behind the stage“?
Click the arena map. What. The F**k?!
These seats are literally behind the stage. Really? I was in the system in 10 seconds.
What happened here is what’s known as being screwed by the “Pre-Sale” which is for radio stations and VIPs. I’m neither. This is BS.
I vow to 1) not pay that kinda money for tickets and
2) not to be screwed by the “Pre-Sale” again!
Flash forward to last week. Mrs. CV is all about seeing Sheryl Crow. Who am I to judge?
I will not be screwed by the Pre-Sale! I will embrace it! A quick consultation of an expert (Google) and low and behold whatdayaknow I’ve got the pre-sale codes! Giddyup!
The morning arrived. 10 a.m. and the pre-sale starts. 9:45 and I’m in the system. “Please wait for the pre-sale to start. Do not refresh your page or you will lose your place in line.” This is way better than the sidewalk!
10am. I’m in! Choose show. Choose quantity. Choose best available. Little spinney thing is going. BAMM! 2 seats 7th row. Mrs is gonna be happy! Choose electronic delivery. This is friggin 2012 after all. Print your receipt. Click….
“Your network connection to the printer is unavailable”
Crap! It’ll be ok. I’ve got my credit card payment and they’ll deliver the tickets to my email. I’ll just wait.
20 minutes later…still no email. Consult a friend who was doing the same thing:
Me: Did you get your email receipt and electronic tickets?
Friend: Yup like 2 minutes later.
Refresh inbox. Nothing. 20 more minutes – still nothing.
Crap! What do I do? Maybe it didn’t go through. If I try to buy more I know the seats will suck and I’ll end up getting stuck with 4 seats! Do I call the Mountain Winery? I’ve got no receipt. Crap! Best start thinking of excuses I can use with Mrs. CV. Think dammit!
“Ding” I’ve got mail! Click, click, click…
YES! 2 Tickets. Crisis averted. Mrs. CV will be happy and no sleeping on the sofa for me.
Life was so much easier with record stores, sidewalks and rushing the stage.
P.S. Be sure to check out the fabulous writers (and yours truly) over at A Nervous Tic – hence the post title…get it?