U2, human nature, hope, and stuff

When I was younger, I was a raging optimist. Well, with qualifiers. I guess I didn’t think things would be okay for everyone, or for the whole world, but everything always worked out okay for me personally. I wouldn't change a thing. When I got my heart broken, I cherished the pre-heartbreak experience and tried to look at the whole thing as a learning experience. When I wasn’t sure what path to take, I tried to relax, secure in the belief that things would pretty much be okay for me if I listened to my heart, or to my gut (most of my other organs are smarter than my brain, with the possible exceptions of my lungs (asthma) and my appendix, which committed suicide).

When I got out of college and had to live, though, I started to feel differently. Paying for college left me flat broke, and starter-level salaries didn’t do anything to improve my situation. I lived in small, sad, telephoneless apartments, learned what “Murphy beds” were, accumulated debt, and tended to despair. Over the years, I came to believe that life was a frustrating sequence of mindless tedium punctuated by refreshing periods of bleak despair. Unless you’re rich, or have a much bolder personality than I do, you’re pretty much going to drag yourself to work, drag yourself home, and most likely plant yourself on the couch with a bag of Fat Rind and wait for oblivion while trembling in fear at the thought of your retirement budget. You get less and less healthy and realize gradually that not only do you have no idea how to accomplish any of your youthful dreams, but you hardly even have dreams any more. Your life slips away, and you miss large chunks of it, and then there’s nothing.

I don’t mean to drive anyone to despair with reading this, but hey, it’s been a long winter!

Anyway. One of the things that’s always helped me out a little has been music. My parents were uninterested in music, for the most part. Occasionally my mom would listen to the gospel station while ironing, but otherwise the radio was used to find out whether we had a snow day from school. They didn’t own a stereo, didn’t listen to records, didn’t sing in the church choir, didn’t attend my high school band concerts – nothing. To this day, my mother will set out on a road trip and never turn on the radio.

What saved me from a musicless existence was really my big sister. We shared a room and she had an old pink radio that got better reception if you piled things on top of it. Three cheers for 1970s album-rock A.M. radio. From earliest memory, the Beatles, Queen, and, God forbid, Black Betty (blam-a-lam) were my companions.

Unlike my husband – whose parents both liked music, and whose father in particular accumulated albums by the score – I feel like I had to start from scratch in my popular music education. In many ways, I feel like I’m still struggling to catch up, but it’s a labor of love. I listen to music every day; I subscribe to a number of concert listing e-mail services. It’s a passion.

I’m the type to rebut political speeches on TV with side remarks along the lines of “yeah, right” or “sure, if you don’t count THOSE civilian deaths” or cheery remarks of that nature. I’m not as intelligently cynical as many of my coworkers in the news industry, but I have a pretty low opinion of human nature.

Except at U2 concerts.

It’s impossible to be cynical at a U2 show.

When I go to a U2 show, I get a general admission ticket, if possible. U2 always charges less for floor – remember when you’re sitting in those $200 seats that the people on the ground paid a quarter as much to be much closer. What that means, though, is a lot more work getting there. For the Vertigo tour, we tried to get to the venue around 6 or 7 in the morning. For the current stadium tour, it’s more like 5 – and that’s just me, just the lazy, same-day experience; the best I’ve ever gotten with that is around 25th in line, and for that I had to stop by the stadium the night before and be numbered. So, travel to a strange city, stay in a hotel, get up around 4 a.m., rush to get ready and assemble your daylong needs – money, camera, ticket, food, water – grab a cab, get in line, and wait. And wait. And wait. If you’re lucky, you can grab a few Zs. Depending on the weather, you might be uncomfortable; you’ll almost certainly be uncomfortable depending on where you’re sitting. Starbucks isn’t even open yet. You spend the day pacing yourself. I know I need to eat and drink – some folks tough it out, but I’m too old for that. You might need sunscreen and a hat, or rain poncho, or even long underwear. Toward mid-afternoon you have to regulate your liquid intake and output – remember, you’re going to be unable to leave the line, and inside the stadium and probably unable to leave your post, from maybe 4 or 5 to about 10 p.m. By the time you enter the venue, you’ve been in line for 12 hours. Hungry, thirsty, sleepy, oh so tired. And you still have to run, run toward the stage and hope for a spot at the railing, and then wait while the setup gets finished, and wait through the opening band (usually bad), and wait during the set break. And then.

I do it for those couple of solid hours completely free of cynicism and anger. Free of criticism and negativity. Just me and 50,000 or so of my closest friends. Maybe this is the kind of ecstasy that charismatic church members feel, the shared passion and uplift. Something to believe in. Me and my kind, jumping up and down to “Until the End of the World.” Screaming to “Vertigo.” Crying during “MLK” and “Walk On.” Raising our hands and vowing to sign, to vote, to click, to text, to help, to hope. Hoping together that group passion can translate to group power; believing in it, for the moment. Impossible to be negative. Things that make you cringe later on the bootleg, or on the DVD – you believe in them utterly in the moment. No political speech seems overly long or out of place, no appeal to act seems misguided or wrong. It’s all the same thing, the same experience. It’s not jarring, not intrusive, it’s part of the experience. Because you believe.

I’ll be a gloomy cynic again soon enough.

The Edge

A friend of mine turned me on to this compilation: ten minutes of various guitar solos by The Edge. enjoy.

U2 Washington, DC, part 2

Anyway, I knew it would be okay, because our numbers were good and the line was really pretty orderly and calm all day. A really good line. Nevertheless, you get that late afternoon panic disorder syndrome sometimes. Or at least I do. Getting to the venue and then the final final final lineup are big major stress points for me! But E. and I talked about where to be, and we decided on outer rail, and I selfishly hoped we’d be able to be more left on Edge’s side because I never get to be on Edge’s side, but center would be totally great too because E is a big Bono fan too, but of course on the third hand anywhere on outer rail is awesome, right? Right. We were both breathing into paper bags, though, you know how it is.

Eventually they started to move a first group of us to the turnstile area. The security people letting us into that next area used our lineup numbers to kind of regulate how many of us there were, which was great. However, and this is as hilarious to me in retrospect as I’d hoped, as they let us in I like turned my ankle or something and took a mighty tumble. I’m BEYOND lucky that I didn’t actually injure myself or break my camera! It was totally in SLO-MO as I kind of staggered forward trying to get my balance, but momentum won, and I went down fairly hard, knees, then hands, then (oh shit no) I bumped my face on the pavement a pretty good one, too. Luckily I only got from it a skinned knee, some great bruises, sore hand-heels for half an hour, and a sore nose for a few days. MANY people asked me if I was all right, which was awesome, AND since we were so near the front I totally didn’t harm my place in line much by it. E. ended up in the line next to my line, and once she made sure I was okay she was like “Dude, I looked over and you were DOWN.” Secretly I was kind of hoping for a black eye – I bumped my brow, nose, mouth – so at work I could be all ‘totally got a shiner in the pit at the show, losers,’ but to no avail. Hah.

Anyway, then of course it was stand and wait there, too. One security guy told us that he THOUGHT we’d go in and turn left and come out behind the stage – which I thought was weird – and another guy kind of counted down the minutes, telling us we had nine minutes, four minutes – then after it was time, of course, another five or so. God, the tension, you know? Finally what did it was E. asked me for a Tic Tac, and when I passed them to her, it was GO TIME. Scan, in, mob, pack, go left, wait, jam into the usual tunnel, shuffle shuffle, hold up your ticket and wristband, GO. Down steps I did not fall down (been there, fell down that!), and I felt really disoriented for a minute; we weren’t behind the stage, we were in the adam-side corner at the back of the field, LOTS of security, so we hardly even were running. Speed walk speed walk, I headed for the middle, and there was E just ahead of me, heading a bit left, looking at me for confirmation, and WE ARE THERE, rail, Edge side, exactly at the corner before where the rail starts to slope away. Perfection!! Just what I wanted.



I felt like FedEx Field was much smaller than Soldier Field, it seemed like such a short run, but E. said FedEx is actually one of the largest football stadiums. Perhaps it’s because my last memory of entering Soldier Field is running down the whole field and THEN all the way around and into the pit, which is a lot further than just to the rail. Anyway, at that point every anxiety had been hurdled and it was time to just generally freak out. I sat down for just a bit, but not a lot of people were, which makes it awkward, and the douche next to me at the rail seemed to think he could hold like five spaces for people who “should be here in like half an hour,” and E. was too psyched to sit, so there we were, looking around.

And let me tell you, my brothers, it was, once again, wonderful. Watching the field fill up, eventually people coming into the stands, the crews at work. You know how security usually kind of ignores you and like pretends they’re in the military? Our security actually greeted US and was all “how you-all doing this evening?” and we started chatting and found out that all the numerous young, wiry guys at rail security were in fact Marines – I’m not sure if they were getting extra credit or something, but they were so great and so polite. They took a jillion pictures of people for them, “Ma’am”-ed us to no end, had all kinds of conversation, gave each other a hard time, and generally were Dear Boys Far From Home and all that. One from Atlanta, we talked baseball for a few minutes; one from Detroit; I don’t even remember. One of them was telling us how they had some kind of special muster or something and President Obama came to it and shook his hand. So of course I stuck out MY hand and shook HIS hand, and that was kind of cool. They were telling us stories about training and trying to sleep all piled up like frozen puppies in the snow and Quantico and trying to get an Embassy post and hoping for Ireland. Not big U2 fans, but one of them was like “Oh MAN!! MUSE is opening?? Really??” Crack me up. They were a welcome distraction, too, because it was getting pretty cold and windy about then! Brrrrrt.

So we waited and we waited and Muse came and went and we were freezing and shivering and everything. Then it was Energy Drink and SoyJoy Bar time, and I’d managed an extra soyjoy for E., although she’d had her own energy drink earlier in line out of search-fear. The search wasn’t much, though, and besides two food bars and an energy shot, I had the lifesaving bottle of water too, so whew. During the break they fixed one of the light panels that had been on the fritz during Muse; we’d speculated whether they would.



Then, finally, finally the Bowie and the smoke and the hooting and the anticipation and suddenly I forgot to be cold for the next couple of hours and it was TIME. Happy happy happy. E.and I jumped up and down and sang and yelled and shrieked and perhaps wiped away a tear every now and then. One of my early favorite moments was when the bridges started moving for the first time, and gradually … swung … toward us … and stopped. Right in front of us. Our eyes were like saucers. I think E. thought I’d somehow known that THAT was the precise spot, but of course I hadn’t; my geography was shaky. I’d HOPED, yes, I admit to that; I knew where I’d been in Chicago, and adjusted my rail goal a bit, accordingly, but I never thought it would work out so well. For once I could see Edge really well for most of the show:



And Bono, well, and everyone, really. Great views the whole time. Larry stopped right in front of us for the djembe section; actually too close for good pictures, so I stopped trying and just enjoyed it!



A great view afterward of Larry running back to his kit, making an accurate and athletic throw (of the djembe) to his tech.

And as much as we enjoyed everything, and as amazing as Adam was again as always, I think the high point for both of us had to be when Bono came and knelt pretty much in front of E. and rocked back and forth and sang and was there for like A WHILE.



I’ve never been to a show with quite so much paramedic activity. Someone worked their way to the rail quite near us (because they felt ill) and promptly fainted. And those 100 pound 19 year old Marines turned out to be prompt, decisive, and very fast, let me tell you. Someone else went down behind us somewhere. At one point there was a hubbub off to the left and one of the Marines told us that a couple had gotten engaged over there! Can you imagine? And there was even what rumor held to be something of a domestic disturbance not that far from us either. I mean, really.

But I mustn’t forget to mention that Bono gestured down to someone who was trying to toss him an American flag, and got his hands on that, and then pulled Amp – remember him from earlier? – up on stage, and gave him the flag, and there was singing and dancing and some devil horns and flag-waving and general useful symbolism



and at the end Amp and Bono hugged and – remember that morning? About snubbing Bono and stuff? Well, E. and I were laughing our butts off, but who among us is above that kind of participating? Dude, not me.

Also even though we were further from Adam this time and I got fewer good pics of him, here is one, just to prove I still love him too.


Anyway, amazing again. Brilliant again. Uplifting again. Funny and moving and solemn and marvelous again. I’m sorry I thought the Ang Saang Suu Kyii masks were creepy before I saw what actually happened with them live, by the way. As always, everything’s cool with me!

Afterward we ‘omg omg omg’ for a while and watched one of our security guards take a ride on one of the bridges (wheee!). This is how awesome they were; a number of people (including us) waited afterward to say goodbye and shake some of their hands.

After, E. and I found our way out to the loading docks; the first one just didn’t feel very promising, but there were already a few fans hanging out at the other one, so we staked a spot out there and tried to see what was what. Earlier in the day I’d been talking to a security person who’d told me that the band was going to do a runner straight to the airport after, but of course I’m always skeptical. But the ring road around the stadium was packed with pedestrians and buses and trucks and people leaving. So either they were already gone, or else it would be a couple of hours. While we waited, Amp showed up, and I couldn’t resist hassling him. “Oh, screw YOU, Bono,” etc. and to his credit he just laughed and said, “Yeah, I sold out!” Someone else recognized him as the guy who’d been onstage and asked to take a picture with him, and I didn’t hear what they said, but I heard him answer, “Yeah, I gave him some man love.” Crack me UP.

After a while, with busy traffic and staff and security and traffic and paramedics leaving and everything, we talked it over and mutually agreed that, while meeting them would be awesome, it was going to be a long wait to even find out if there was a chance, and we had a “mile” walk in the dark back to the car in the highest crime county in the country, and it might be smart to take that walk while there were still plenty of people around. So that’s what we did, with a lot less gear to haul this time.

And the gates were open to exit the parking lot, meaning my friend didn’t have to swipe her card, meaning we didn’t have to pay! And we hooted and giggled and babbled all the way home, and again, the advantages of being in a real house – microwaved leftovers afterward, and the chance to look at pictures immediately. And all manner of things were well.

Complete Flickr set here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_lynch/sets/72157622415023943/

Set list:
Breathe
Magnificent
Get On Your Boots
Mysterious Ways
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Your Blue Room, Beautiful Day
New Year's Day
Stuck In A Moment
The Unforgettable Fire
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight (remix)
Sunday Bloody Sunday
MLK
Walk On
Encore1
One
Amazing Grace
Where the Streets Have No Name
Encore 2
Ultraviolet
With or Without You
Moment of Surrender

(just remembered that I didn’t put set lists in my previous posts, so I’m gonna go back and add them in a bit.)

U2, FedEx Field, Washington, DC, 9/29/09, part 1

Yes, yes, I'm very late. Let's get to it.

I ended up writing a ridiculously long account of my day and night at the show with my friend E., so I'm cutting it into two parts: here's the first half.

On Tuesday 9/29 my friend E. and I went to the U2 show at FedEx Field in Landover, MD (aka the Washington, DC show). We hit the dollar store the night before for snacks and stuff but failed to find those foldy chairs/camp chairs we were looking for. (from what we could tell, neither of us having been to the stadium before, it’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere all by itself – no running across the street to McDonald’s for us, so we had to bring food for the whole day.)

First thing I’m gonna say is that it’s a whole different thing to wake up in someone’s house to get in line. I didn’t have to share the bathroom! AND my friend made us a quick breakfast! It’s very different having some eggs and toast and coffee inside when you’re on the way to it.

We were initially aiming for a bit earlier but got swept up in an epic quest for said chairs. The first couple of stores we hit – drugstore and grocery store – weren’t open, but we finally found one that was; it didn’t have lawn/foldy chairs, but we spotted pet beds and the light bulb went off and we each grabbed one. Better than sitting on concrete all day if it came to that. (In Chicago I was SO stiff and sore the first day.) Then E. saw that they also had milk crates. Pet bed atop milk crate = luxury seating! I admit, I nearly didn’t get a crate for myself, but I’m so glad I did. It was an inspired idea. We were amazingly comfortable all day in our improvised seats, and the crates were handy to carry our stuff TO the stadium in, AND the pet beds made for respectable pillows when we tried to nap later on in the morning.

Anyway, we found the place, and the internet said there was a metro station “less than a mile away” where we planned to park (although it was supposed to be an extra $25 payable on the way out, I believe). We drove past the station on purpose to see if we could get a glimpse or get near the stadium (and, you never know, maybe there was early parking that was open already, or something), but the street was all blocked off and there were a couple of cop cars up there, so we turned around (and we weren’t the only ones) and went back to the parking.

Well. It wasn’t light yet, and it sure seemed like more than a mile to ME. We grabbed our crates and beds and stuff and hiked and hiked. A few joggers passed us, and then one guy passed us, jogging but not a jogger – I knew he was one of us somehow, not dressed like a jogger, had a backpack, etc. It was kind of a deserted area, and even though we were going past normal/nice seeming townhouses, my friend did mention that we were in the county with the highest crime rate in the country. *ulp*

When we got to the grounds, after what seemed like a two-mile hike at least, what with hauling our gear and the early morning haste and pre-line anxiety – the cops/security still had the street closed off a good distance from the stadium, and our jogger was the only person there waiting. So we met him and of course he said there had been a line the night before, etc., but we couldn’t figure out how to get around to consolidate – they wouldn’t let us go TO the stadium, which we’d have to do to get PAST the stadium. We noted our arrival times in case we had to wait there forever, maybe we could try some kind of consolidating later, or something.

Anyway the guy talked to the cops and eventually one of them gave him a ride somewhere, like as the cop went to talk to the other cops – I was kind of confused by this – anyway, so I went and talked to the remaining cop (heat coming out of his car window! Yay!) for awhile and he said they weren’t going to let anyone on the property until – I don’t even remember, until noon? Wasn’t up to him. (he said people kept running over his flares driving up to look, like we had; he’d been through boxes of the things. In fact, I thought I remembered feeling something under the tires, but I kept that to myself.) We talked about it for awhile, and finally the other car came back and said to let us in. WOOT. So my friend and I grabbed our stuff and hustled. A long way, and then around, and then we spotted Jogger again; hmph! Why didn’t the cops give US a ride? It was a long way! A few minutes later the LINE came to join us, with the number people and everything, so we got numbered (wristbands) – my friend and I got 57 and 58, and by that time it was probably quarter till 7:00 at least – and I was like WHEW. I mean, once I get a number, I feel SO much better, you know? Until then I feel like everything’s in doubt.

So we spread down the sidewalk, grass behind us, facing a big empty parking lot and the sun, and the girls behind us offered us blueberry muffins, and we said HELL YEAH to that. It was chilly, but I was giddy at that point, and my friend saw it and totally understood. Once you’re actually on the property, half the anxiety and unknowns and doubt just melt away, right? Ahhhhh. So we had our muffins and they talked about moving the line and taking another roll call and stuff. Some of you probably know the fan named Amp; I didn’t know his name till later, although we’d hung out for a bit in Chicago. (he’s in some of my Chicago pictures, actually.) He came and was talking to the muffin girls, and was totally cracking us up with his rendition of Why I’ve Had It Up To Here With Bono. He said that when they were doing the Letterman stint, he’d been in a fan line with a picture of himself with Bono that he hoped to have autographed, and basically Bono snubbed him somehow, like looked right at him and/or the picture and refrained from signing it even though he was going down the line doing the meet and greet. So Amp was all “Bono is dead to me! I’m here for the other three guys. If I see Bono I’ll just be like ‘Fuck YOU, Bono,’ etc., etc.” It was very funny.

Anyway, after awhile they moved us up steps, onto concrete, and into the cattle chutes, BUT, my friend and I were close enough to the front that we got to be on the end, in the first chute, and that means GRASS. Again. How lucky could we be? I had told E. how everything seemed to work out in Chicago that we were just in the nick of time, if we’d been ten minutes later it would have been too bad, etc., and this was another example of that fine principle coming to fruition. When they moved us up, and when people came into that area throughout the day, that waiting area became a wristband/floor access area; they checked our tix and gave us venue wristbands as we went into the chutes, and then to back-and-forth all day we could just show wristband.



The line went back and forth in the chutes in an extended “S” pattern. Later in the morning there was actually shade, even, although not later still in the afternoon. Everyone was pretty mellow. We weren’t really next to the most awesome people ever, conversation-wise, but they weren’t terrible either; we had some nice moments. E. and I were a party of two, so we had lots of time to sleep and rest and stuff.

There was a circle drive around the stadium, and it filled with red trucks later in the day. I took a walk in the morning around to find the loading docks, and there were not one but two, rather near each other, but still!! Thanks for adding an extra level of wtf to my day, FedEx Field.

Starting in the early afternoon – or even around noon, I guess – they had some vendors outside, with soda and water and coffee and even, I think, hot dogs, although *shudder* it’s hard to imagine ever eating a hot dog again. The coffee guy came by just as it was getting hot: “hot coffee!” No takers. So just a bit later he came past again: “iced coffee!” Crack me up. It was nice that they were there, though; it was port-a-johns all day, so no running water, and (furthermore) I really need some caffeine through the day to feed my addiction and prevent headache and dozing. Even if it’s coke. One thing I learned in DC is that my preference for Pepsi over Coke is getting stronger; I’ve always liked Pepsi quite a bit better, but after a few days of having to settle for Coke, the next time I had a Pepsi it was SUCH a pleasure. Ummmm.

Anyway, the vendors and staff and everyone were really nice to us all day, chatting and joking and such. Except the one I overheard talking about bombs and stuff because we were in DC and Bono and world leaders and so on. Yikes. Yeah, um, we were trying not to think about that? Dude? The Coke guy said he’d worked the Chicago shows – said they transport the workers around to different venues. Which doesn’t make sense to me, but he said he’d been up in the stands for the shows and how neat looking it was and everything. That dude had a long day – I saw him hawking drinks in the inner pit later.

So, you guys know the drill – wait, wait, wait, eat, drink, get nervous, wait. Zooropababy was there too; we weren’t near each other in line, but we had the chance to visit a few times during the day, and I swear she gets cuter every time I see her (which hasn’t been many, but still). That was nice! I don’t think anyone else I really know was there, although I saw a familiar face or two just from fandom and other lines generally.

In the afternoon, you know, it was getting pretty crowded; they had us scooch up a few times as the line threatened to overflow the area they’d reserved for us. My friend E. took to line life like an old hand. She’s really awesome and a U2 fan from way back, and had seen them a few times before, including the inauguration party because she rocks like that, but she hadn’t really done the ga line all day like this before. She was like a real pro the whole time. That said, at the same time I felt a lot of pressure for things to work out really well for us, because it was her only 2009 show and I had done it a few times and knew about the line numbers and stuff. So I had taken advantage of the Chicago shows to job shadow Ally and get a better feel for the whole thing, since I don’t get to do it very often myself. (My husband thinks I’m all insane and extravagant with the shows, and I’m the one of my flist who goes to the fewest shows and is the lamest! Life is pain. But it’s not fair to spend OUR money on my passion; we might want to buy another car or, you know, retire one day, after all. But I digress.)

U2, Chicago, Soldier Field, 9/13/09

U2 in Chicago: the madness continues

As stated, after the 9/12 show my friend Ally and I got numbers 46 and 47, which was awesome. We went back to our group by the loading dock and eventually ended up asking a cab driver where we could get something to eat near our hotel at that hour; eight or ten of us ended up with late-night subs, also availing ourselves of the opportunity to buy some pastry and/or chips for the next day.

After the first day, some of us were really tired (okay, ALL of us were really tired), and some of us felt less urgency for the second day. However, Ally and I planned to hit it hard again; we wanted to be there about 4:30. Unfortunately, we overslept – I can’t imagine why, besides the exhaustion, other than the fact that four educated, intelligent, capable women from three continents apparently can’t figure out how to work a hotel alarm clock. At any rate, the two of us got to the off-site underpass encampment around 5:30 (again, the venue wouldn’t let people line up overnight on the property, but with security’s knowledge they lined up very nearby). We were just in the nick of time, AGAIN, because (as happens) some people were missing, and security was getting ready to move us to the on-site line again – the underpass. So the line organizers were going down the line taking roll again and renumbering to skip over the absentees. Ally and I bumped up to 35 and 36, which is the best number I’ve ever had and could not be more awesome. Then security let us on site to the real line, which, again, it wasn’t a single-file waiting area, so the numbers weren’t kept as strictly as at other lines I’ve seen, but it worked for us. The wait was much more pleasant Sunday because we’d been there before, we knew the ropes, we had more room because it wasn’t a line-merging rush at the last minute. Time seemed to pass much faster.

The day went very similarly. People looked familiar; we tried to save our strength. I was exhausted from the day before and from lack of sleep, but I can’t really fall asleep in line very well. I can relax and rest and come very close to dozing, but not really sleep. I was so tired, I kept thinking that if I kept eating, it would be the same as sleep – energy acquisition, right? I ate everything I could. You also end up analyzing your liquid intake in strange ways. Like, I have to have caffeine to live and to not have a headache. And it’s very important to keep hydrated all day so you don’t faint during the show. But after 3:30 or 4:00 you can’t go to the bathroom from the line, and you don’t want to have to go once you’re inside – it’s such a madhouse. So you drink a lot at some times, cut yourself off at others – it’s kind of weird.

The first night, however, I discovered my secret weapons to surviving, even tired and/or hungry, which is that I sneaked a water bottle into the place each night – later you need that water! – as well as a soyjoy bar and one of those “5-hour energy drinks,” which I don’t usually have. I don’t know whether it’s a psychological thing – certainly those drinks taste horrible – but having the bar and drinking the thing after the opening band gives you just that extra bit of energy to get through.

The second day, the head security guy (“Tony”) told us he’d been trying to get us better organized and safer, because the charge into the stadium had been kind of a dangerous cluster the night before. This time they roped us off again, but a phalanx of security actually walked us through the first area to the turnstiles. Again there was some confusion – people in all the other lines were getting wristbands, and the staff person in our line was holding a bunch of them, so going through, we all stopped and asked, “Don’t we need wristbands?” and he said “No – don’t hold up the line!” so we went ahead without them, because, what can you do? A guy after him hole-punched our tickets for reasons I don’t understand. We ran inside and around the corner and waited again. Then we were supposed to hold up our tickets and wristbands as we ran past security. I HAVE NO WRISTBAND. but it was a mob scene, there was no way they could see or could have stopped me, so I just held up my ticket with the rest and ran ran ran. Again Ally and I wanted the same spot and she promised to hold a space for me, so I ran and looked for her and ran and walked past security and ran-walked and nearly died - football fields are BIG - and there she was as promised, so there we were!

This second night we decided to try for the inner pit – in past tours this was lottery-based or random, but on this tour it’s strictly first come first serve, which, frankly, is the only way I’ll ever get in there. So with Ally’s superior running skills coming into play once again, we got inside the pit at the stage rail right in front of Adam Clayton. Hooray!







Sunday night's show was even better than Saturday’s. It has to be the best concert I've ever seen. they made a few changes in the set list and took out 'Pride' for the first time in years but added back in "until the end of the world," which made me very very happy. That’s not only a song I love a ton, but it’s one of my favorite U2 songs live. Ally and I had a great time jumping up and down and singing and cheering and taking pictures.

At first I didn’t feel that way; I was kind of discouraged, because from that close to the stage, your view is most excellent of some of the stage but very limited when it comes to other parts of the show. And when the bridge swung out and was almost directly over us, it was so chaotic, security had to come out into the crowd, you couldn’t really see anything – I felt kind of less than 100 percent thrilled about our choice.



But the bridge was only right over us for one song, and security got out of our way, and we were right at the stage, and the sound was amazing, and the show was amazing, and everything went right. Oh, not only that, but they played a rare track “Your Blue Room” live for the first time ever anywhere that night. It’s not even on my short list of favorite U2 songs, but it joins many less-than-my-favorite U2 songs that is totally redeemed live (I never liked Miss Sarejevo that much until I saw it live on the Vertigo tour, for instance). Plus it was such a rare experience.

Sometimes something happens at a concert that you really can’t explain. It’s the same people doing the same thing, but everything just kind of clicks and comes together, and the audience is better and pushes the band a little further, and they give a little more and provokes the audience to respond a little more – this was that kind of night. Afterward people were just kind of gasping, “amazing – wow – WOW.”



Afterward we went back out to the loading dock again. Let me mention here that, regardless of the facts, venue staff will invariably tell you that the band left a long time ago and that you are wasting your time waiting. Sometimes this is true and sometimes it isn’t. However, this time there weren’t really any security people around, and someone came and took down some barriers, so it didn’t look good for stalking on this particular occasion. So we gave up and went away – exhausted and satisfied.



My flickr set from 9/13/09:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_lynch/sets/72157622310971887/

set list:

Breathe
No Line On The Horizon
Get On Your Boots
Magnificent
Beautiful Day
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Elevation
Your Blue Room
Unknown Caller
Until the End of the World
Stay (Faraway, So Close)
The Unforgettable Fire
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy
Encore 1:One
Where the Streets Have No Name
Encore 2:
Ultraviolet
With or Without You
Moment of Surrender

U2, Sept. 12, 2009, Soldier Field, Chicago

I’ve totally neglected this blog for forever – the result of too much other ‘social media,’ I think.

But I have some shows to tell you about – in September I went to three U2 shows and got some great pics.

First I went to the two Chicago shows on Sept. 12 and 13th; I met a bunch of friends from across the country and abroad for the occasion, which was great – some I hadn’t seen in a few years, and some I hadn’t met in person before, so it was loads of fun catching up and/or getting to know one another. (California, Colorado, Florida, Ohio, Vermont, Illinois, Indiana, Australia, New Zealand, and Sweden, and I know I’m forgetting some. There was a large California contingent.)

I had general admission tickets, as one does. The Sept. 12 show (Chicago 1) was the North American tour opener, so it was a big draw. There’s a tradition at U2 shows that the fans organize the line, so it’s first come first serve and you get on a numbered list. This allows you to come and go during the day with a measure of security and makes it harder to cut in line (until chaos happens). However, it’s considered good form and good manners to be physically present in the line for most of the day; that way you’ve done your time and earned it, and also the people around you in line recognize you; it eliminates misunderstandings and hard feelings.

So, since it was the tour leg opener, we heard that people had lined up a day or two earlier – to begin establishing the line and the numbering, although the facility (Soldier Field) wouldn’t allow them on the property overnight, so they had to leave, come back, stand across the street, etc. When we got there at 5 a.m. there was a bit of confusion; the ‘two days earlier’ group apparently had wristbands they were giving out to establish the order, but a different group seemed to be giving out numbers, as is the custom, so there seemed to be two lines. We were in a tunnel under a street, so the lines formed on opposite sides, and we got in the non-wristband line and got the numbers chick to give us some numbers (we got in the 60s, which is pretty good). One always does worry that there’ll be some kind of drama, and I never feel secure until I have my number – although this case was particularly worrisome! As it turned out, the tunnel area was used heavily by bikers, joggers, etc., so security had us all move over to one side, and the lines really kind of merged and fell apart at that point. At that point it really worked to our benefit; people kind of ignored the numbers and our group probably ended up further ahead in line than we would have. However, given the awkward scramble, we ended up more crowded under there than we should have, which made for some discomfort during a long day of sitting on cement. (oh, my elderly joints!)



Once in our proper places, we were well launched into the ‘hurry up and wait’ cycle. It’s always an anxious rush to get there and get your space established, and then you just wait and wait and wait, anxious for the next rush. People brought blankets, lawn chairs, etc; there was a lot of resting and sleeping, and some card playing, and a lot of chatting. It was a very long day for me, because I hadn’t done it in almost exactly four years and because it was the first show of the season; we didn’t know what to expect, most of us hadn’t seen the stage yet, hadn’t been to the venue before, etc. It was cold there under our bridge in the early hours, but the weather actually was great all weekend, and later we were so glad not to be out in the hot sun all day. It worked out really well for us (my U2 experiences often seem to revolve around having gotten somewhere in the nick of time; in this case, to the shade!).



but it was easy to get out of line and walk around, etc. I made a big effort to save my strength - but also we had a thin blanket, and the concrete really started to hurt our joints and ass bones after a while, so it was good to stand up. The best thing was that there was a food kiosk near the field museum north of the stadium, and also a real bathroom with plumbing in the parking garage - and they had staff people there all day both days, stocking and cleaning it - with water fountains and even a vending machine with water and coke. LUXURY. It was so much less horrible just having plumbing and water. I remember some GA lines with only port-a-johns and no vending, and it makes a huge difference. I brought a water bottle to smuggle in and refilled it a few times during the day. the rest of the time, it was just boring. we checked our phones for the time like every three minutes all day long.

Sometimes one can accost the band at the loading dock when they arrive in the afternoon for soundcheck (as well as after the show), but given that there had been some confusion over the line earlier, and the band usually arrives mid-afternoon when things are starting to get anxious at the line, we didn’t really go over there to wait. Apparently they signed some autographs at the hotel but not at the venue anyway.

As stated, things get anxious starting around 3:00, and people started taking things to their cars, going to the bathroom for the last time, ditching extraneous baggage, and so on, as more security people gather and you can see the ticket takers and staff members getting organized. finally they roped off the first like hundred people or so, and then the second, so they could let us in in groups. However, as soon as they dropped the ropes, we ran across a plaza to the turnstiles, where we waited for another minute. they let some of us through with nothing, and gave some people wristbands, and had some thing where they were hole punching some of the tickets, too. we ran inside and around a corner where we waited for 15 or 20 minutes while they made announcements we couldn't hear. do we need wristbands? nobody knows? etc. during the running there was pushing and shoving and I think they were really lucky nobody was hurt. Then they let the second group follow us in before we'd gotten to progress, so it got very crowded and pushy. It wasn't very well organized at all. Finally they let us through this narrow hallway toward the field. I saw a guy holding a bunch of wristbands and asked him for one. running running running across the field, looking for my friend Ally, who is little and spry and runs much faster. You know you’re going to get separated; the way to go is to agree on what general location you want and then whoever gets there first tries to save a bit of space, so you’re running and looking around for each other, passing security telling you to walk every few steps, slower faster slower faster. There was no way to stay together; it was kind of a madhouse. Ally got at the outside railing in the center and saved as much space as she could, so some 6 or 8 of us got to stand all more or less together. and then I finally had a chance to look up at the monstrous canopy over the stage and just go "holy shit" for a while.



The stage is just amazing. I don’t know what to say about it. It looks kind of ridiculous at first, too much, incomprehensible, but then you start to get used to it a little, and then when U2 are actually on, it’s such a part of the show, the lights, the smoke, the sound, it seems Just Exactly Right.

When you get up at 4 in the morning and haven’t had much sleep, it seems like nothing could be worth all this. And when you get to the venue before dawn and join the ragtag band of folks, with their odds and ends and sleeping bags and supplies and layers and sleeplessness and everything, you know it’s just going to be a big pain. And when you wait in line all day, dealing with whatever the weather throws you, and often physically uncomfortable, eating whatever comes your way, trying to get a nap, well, I seriously thought this might be the last time for me. Why do I do this? Why do I put myself through this? It’s such a hassle, and it’s so ridiculous. Sure, it’s a lot cheaper than seats, but maybe I’m getting to That Age, you know? A good night’s sleep, decent meals throughout the day, getting to the venue at a leisurely 6 p.m. … all that sounded pretty good.

And then the smoke and the lights, and the band comes out, and the music starts, and it’s all worth it just at that moment, much less throughout the night. It’s divine madness. At one point several of us had a good cry. And you jump up and down and scream and sing and cheer and wave. And they come around and stand right in front of you, and that would never happen if you hadn’t sacrificed for it.









And as soon as it’s over, you start thinking madly of how you can do it again, how soon, when, where, there must be a way, this can’t end. It’s more than a concert. It’s an amazing experience. I’ve seen U2 from the seats, and they’re amazing, but it’s not the same. In line, it’s a community. People share their resources, pass water and food around. You don’t have to explain why or convince anyone; everyone in line left a crowd of family, spouses, friends, coworkers who don’t get it and came here where everyone gets it. You see someone you think you recognize everywhere. Didn’t that chick get up on stage that one time; I know that guy’s in some of my pictures from that other show. It’s a different country.

Yeah, I’m kind of nuts that way.

Did I mention outside rail at the center??

Amazing.

After the show we went around to the loading docks, where a number of people were waiting around. We saw some of U2's crew, and some of them seemed to be carrying wine into the place, which did not indicate the band making their getaway anytime soon. While we waited, one guy (who’d been in line all day with us) told us that the next day’s numbers were being given out. Ally and I, who planned to come back early the next day (our group broke up and came at different times according to sleepiness and insanity), ran to find them. Around the stadium, under the bridge, under another bridge, around the corner, and they were just about to leave for a few hours’ sleep when we found them and got the last two numbers of the night, 46 and 47, which is very, very good. And so off to get something to eat, and so to bed for a few hours.

Here’s my flickr set from Sept. 12, 2009.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_lynch/sets/72157622289275337/

set list:

Breathe
No Line On The Horizon
Get On Your Boots
Magnificent
Beautiful Day
Elevation
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Stuck In A Moment
Unknown Caller
The Unforgettable Fire
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight (remix)
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Pride
MLK
Walk On
Encore 1:
Where the Streets Have No Name
One, Bad
Encore 2: Ultraviolet
With or Without You
Moment of Surrender

U2 tour sneak peeks

It's not long until the U2 tour starts up in Europe! They've been building the stage and rehearsing in Barcelona.

Here are some looks at the stage, which they're calling "the claw" but which I think also looks like 1. "the tentacles" and 2. "the dangerous carnival ride." It's supposed to rotate, but I'm having a little trouble envisioning exactly to which part the rotation will be confined to. I'm also imagining how many of us it'll kill when it collapses, and how many times Bono will get stranded outside the rotation zone by wandering off script.

http://www.u2eastlink.com/

http://www.u2eastlink.com/foro/read.php?18,1000503300,1000503338#msg-1000503338

http://forum.atu2.com/index.php/topic,6363.0.html

Qualms aside - my husband said it looks PopMart-y, which *shudder* - it looks pretty cool.

Secondly, here are a couple of rumored set lists from rehearsals. A few interesting things on there, but sadly it looks like they plan on doing "unknown caller" - the one song I always skip on the new cd. have a look:

http://forum.atu2.com/index.php/topic,6366.0.html

http://www.u2gigs.com/

No Line on the Horizon

I love this album already.

If you know me, you probably know that I'm a big U2 fan. (ask me about the time I met Larry Mullen Jr.)

So I tried to brace myself. I've been anticipating this album since approximately the day the Vertigo tour ended, and one hears strange updates from time to time. I've had so many fears about this album, especially hearing the word 'experimental' used so many times. I have nothing against racket - one of the things I love about Wilco is what an unholy NOISE they can make - but production-wise I guess I like a cleaner, less dense sonic signature than some. Generally. Like I'll always prefer 'All That You Can't Leave Behind' to 'Zooropa' and 'Pop.' that might sound self-evident, but there are those who disagree!

so I was fairly frightened of this album. 'Get On Your Boots' didn't reassure me very much - it was pretty thick and, well, not a great song.

I've been through the album only one time so far, and it's silly to love it already, but I do. Not really in spite of the production, and certainly not because of the production, but kind of existing alongside the production.

Bono really sounds like he's singing all-out sometimes here. I like how (as on the last two albums) they've refrained from fixing up his voice; it's getting a little worn sometimes, but it sounds very honest and true when it cracks a bit here and there (not too much, thankfully). While there is a lot of noise going on sometimes, it's not all the sound of eight guitar tracks and loops; there's totally a 'Joshua Tree' guitar tone to be found here and there, and some tasty stuff that verges on the semi-clean. and I have no complaints about the drums and bass. I think Adam Clayton gets better all the time. (My husband would mention here how far he had to go, of course, to which I say 'hmph'.)

so there's my preliminary $.02.

U2 memories - two years ago

Two years ago I hit my first two Vertigo shows in Chicago. I took the train up May 10 and met a bunch of my online friends for the first time at the United Center. It was a beautiful warm day to spend in line. After a day off, the 12th was cold and rainy, but we persevered.

A few pictures.

May 10, 2005:
Larry


adam


bono


bono and edge


And May 12.
cold!


stalking edge


larry


adam


everything

U2 odds, ends

Here's a billboard.com article about the U2 3D movie.

Also some in-depth interviews and stuff with The Edge's guitar tech Dallas Schoo, including some youtube links I haven't tried out because I have dialup. Quit laughing. Do you think it's easy, being a cheapskate?

Here's a brief: The Edge will receive an honorary degree from Berklee this spring.

At @u2.com, check out the U2 cartoon achtoon baby.

Bono and Larry get haircuts

Stolen from various places on the web. Bono’s new haircut looks pretty good.






Bono’s not the only one who got a haircut, though.


Historical record: Here’s what Bono looked like a year ago this week outside the United Center.


And here’s Larry a year ago this week.

It seems like so long ago, the U2 concerts in Chicago last year, but I remember it so vividly, too. Getting up before dawn to get to the United Center by 6 or 7 a.m., the sitting, the walking, the waiting, the cold, the hot, the thirst, the hunger, the uncleanliness, the thirst, the waiting, the exhaustion, the chills! The thrills!

Inarticulate babblings re: U2, St. Louis, Dec. 14, 2005

1. RUNNING! The top speed b/e running and E poised in Rock Godness behind Larry as they all gather to worship!
So much I can't even start and I can't even look at my pictures because my battery's so dead and J took the camera sometimes and we have 190 pictures and our seats were exactly what I'd hoped for.
The "Sunday Bloody Sunday" kid was awesome and the "Mysterious Ways" girl was a real dud. The "Yahweh" pianist was good and ballsy enough to do a little fancy thing that made Bono beam at him from all the way across, but at the end he just couldn't hear what Bono was telling him, so Edge had to come and hang all over him and direct him very closely, and at the end during the applause Edge gave him a BIG HUG, and then he went down the ramp back to his place and he had a total "I AM SUCH A GEEK I CAN'T BELIEVE IT" Big Dork, fists in the air, I just won the olympic medal kind of moment that cracked everybody the hell UP. He must've had a sign earlier; B went out nearly to the tip just to get him. HYSTERICAL.
We were even with the end of the front video screens, basically.
Edge wasn't playing through a wireless rig until the encore, so he didn't come out on the ramp at all until then, but I'm so glad he DID play wireless then.
Bono was in such fine voice. The operatic parts were beyond HUUUUGE and great.
I DIED during instant karma. Now Melissa knows what it's like to hear a woman pee herself over the phone. DIED. Larry started the drum thing and I was like, "What's that?" and Bono said "This is a song ... we've been tryin' to do ... Lennon" and I was like "INSTANT KARMA!!!!!!!" omg.
Larry's drum fill? Not nailed. heh.
The St. Louis crowd was lame for 40. Has to be said.
There was one moment, this is why I don't do a song by song review, at the end of either Streets or SBS, I think it was SBS, when we just wouldn't stop cheering. The roar was stupendous. Bono was like "Jebus, people" and Adam was like "Holy Jebus," and Bono covered his ears and grinned at us and they had to WAIT. It was MASSIVE.
So much grinning and laughing and love and babies.
Hoh boy, am I happy. Wow. Like wow.

Leg cling!
Kiss on the mouth!
Happiness!

2. So we were a bit late and there was some hairy traffic at the last minute - the street I was gonna take was closed, so I got in a bit of a jam and had to circle around, and then the parking garage was full, but we made it into the flat lot right across - SO EXPENSIVE!! I mean, I don't mind paying for parking, but more than $10 is just greedy.
Anyway, we missed Kanye West entirely, and we were both a little disappointed, but the crew was in full swing, Dallas Dallas everywhere and my hero Batwoman with the mighty belt of gear. It's always funny to see them check things that just don't need to be checked. Still plugged in? How about now? Here's something I never noticed before, though:
Dallas got out a tape measure and measured Edge's mic placement.
J and I just stared in bemusement. It was hilar.

I'd warned J about Arcade Fire, but I thought I'd just be excited; I didn't realize it was like someone flipped the WOOT switch. It was reflexive! I just yelled "OH YEAH THIS IS IT THIS IS IT!!!" and started hooting and yelling. I grabbed my phone to call Melissa and my hands were visibly shaking!! The floor was hooting too, but people around us weren't, really, until they kind of caught on and overheard and the word kind of spread and WOO WOO WOO!

Edge was just jumping around like a lunatic. hop hop BOING BOING. Babies everywhere. Adam: Snowflake shirt. (I know, I know, humor me.) It looks like a lot of our pictures are stinkers, as always, but a lot of them turned out decent, too.

Some things I really missed about being on the floor - mostly eye contact!! - but it was kind of cool to be able to see them like ... not like the Mecca-like culmination of a mini-hajira (is that the right word??) but actually a concert you drive to and go into like normal and drive home. Only better. No mark on my ticket, no wristband, no writing on me!! So strange, these non GA customs are. I must study their ways.

What else? What else? I don't even know. Adam on the ramp getting mondo love and reaching out and touching people's hands and taking a bow and grinning with all the Adam love. Larry and Adam cracking up over something, at the beginning. I think '40' was a little shorter. Adam was having trouble getting feedback over there. Not absolutely certain whether I ever got Lisa on the phone. Maybe she has a LONG message. It would seem like there was a connection, and I'd look down later and it wouldn't be there, so I'd just call Melissa again.

Setlists: U2, September 20 and 21, 2005, Chicago

More playing catchup -
Here are the setlists from the Sept. 20 and 21 Chicago U2 shows.

Sept. 20
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
Elevation
Electric Co.
The Ocean
Walk On
Beautiful Day
Miracle Drug
Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own
Yahweh
Love and Peace or Else
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Bullet The Blue Sky
Miss Sarajevo
Pride in the Name of Love
Where the Streets Have no Name
One
(encore)
Discotheque
The Fly
With or Without You

All Because of You
The First Time
Bad



Sept. 21

City Of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
Elevation
The Electric Co.
The Ocean
Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses
Beautiful Day
Miracle Drug
In A Little While
Yahweh
Love And Peace Or Else
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Bullet The Blue Sky
Miss Sarajevo
Pride (In The Name Of Love)
Where The Streets Have No Name
One
(encore)
Bad
Original Of The Species
With Or Without You

Fast Cars
All Because Of You
40

A GA diary: U2, Chicago, Sept. 20-21, 2005

Still updating from last fall:
U2 log
Part one of three, the log I kept in Chicago.


Monday 9/19
5:10 p.m.
Already the train is late, and I try not to worry that I’ve forgotten something. As Ally says, as long as I have the actual concert tickets, we can work around the rest. My suitcase seems unnecessarily large because it’s our only suitcase that has wheels. I learned my lesson last time. Maybe I’m anxious about arriving in Chicago at night & having to hail a cab in the dark, a woman alone, with luggage. I’m so small-town. I promised J I’d “be so careful I’d barely have any fun.” I don’t want to be extremely late & worry my friends. Only 20 minutes so far, but they don’t tend to improve.
5:50 p.m.
On train, coming into Lincoln, listening to the Allman Bros “Eat a Peach” on my iPod. Looks very ominous, dark and low’ring outside, with lightning. Does lightning strike trains? Will it rain in Chicago? Did I bring an umbrella? I did not.
8:00 p.m.
You know that scene in War of the Worlds when the flaming train speeds by in ruin? It’s a lot like that, only very slow, more crowded, and with a crying baby.
10:00
Arrived! Thank goodness. I was getting a headache, and the cab ride was wonderful, with the lake on my right and the skyline on my left. My friends Ally and Melissa were waiting outside the hotel.

6/20
5:13 a.m.
You have got to be kidding me.
6:45
We arrive at the United Center. My friends and I are numbers 59, 60, and 61 in line. There are about 8 tents and campers crashed out on sleeping bags and camp chairs. We spread our blanket and get our bearings. Laura, a tall girl who got to play guitar onstage last time we were here, gets out of a car with her blanket. We’re home.
7:45 a.m.
Andrea and the Belgian women arrive (separately). [Note: I know there’s a Belgian and a Frenchwoman, but let’s call them Belgian for convenience.] Belgian women were in Toronto, and Andrea asks about GA at the box office there.
8:05
I’m cold! At what time of day should I apply sunscreen? People are gradually streaming in. Ally and Melissa walk around the United Center to check out what we call the stalking area - where the band arrives, mid-late afternoon, and sometimes comes out to meet the fans.
8:30 a.m.
The Irish flag makes its first appearance, draped over some guy’s shoulder.
8:40
We lie on the blanket and attempt to nap for a while. It’s hard to fall asleep, with people talking and coming and going. I give up around 9:15 when Mandi arrives. The official parking lot opens so people can move their cars. I decide to apply sunscreen.
10:15
We move the blanket uphill into the shade and spend quality time discussing how hot Adam is, which is basically the theme of the morning. Adam is very popular among our group. The port-a-pottys are already gross. Mandi sits up and says “Oh my God, my bra just totally came undone.” It’s amazing how many people in the line look familiar.
11:00
We are so bored. The coming and going is at a lull, and people are sitting in the shade, just waiting, for the most part.
11:40 a.m.
We sit or lie on the blanket. The guys uphill are listening to the May 12 bootleg and talking about prior shows. (I recognize it from the guy in the audience who yells “I love you, Bono!” at intervals.) The group of women behind us are playing trivial pursuit. A guy who’s clearly impersonating Bono walks by and causes almost no sensation at all. My friends recognize him. “Oh, that guy.” Mandi and Andrea are waiting at the box office for them to release GAs. I’m hungry. I don’t know whether we’re going to try to find some lunch or not. The beauty of the number system - written on our inner wrists in blue sharpie - is that we can leave and return without causing animosity. On the other hand, my friend Melissa has arthritic knees, and we’re all trying to preserve our feet and legs for later. It’s the standing, but it’s the being still, unable to really shift your weight or change your position, that’s so grueling.
I’m getting hungry.
12:00 Ally offers to walk to taco bell for us. We gladly accept and make a list. The United Center general manager came by with a couple of staffers and made chitchat with some of the line. Last spring he rode around on a Segway and gave out some free bottles of water on a very hot day. He’s awfully corporate, but he says he’ll come by later with free water. We encourage him to do so. He teases us with the possibility of a free tour later, but he doesn’t seem very sincere about it.
Ally sets off for Taco Bell. Guys behind us still listening to May 12 bootleg. There hasn’t been much consistent traffic, although the spread-out, straggling line has grown to the end of the block. There’s still lots of room between groups, blankets outspread. By 5:00 the line will be solid to the end of the block and beyond with people standing in an actual more-or-less line close together.
12:15
On closer, but still not extremely close, look, fake Bono’s not really that bad. The guys behind us gave me a free bottle of water. I forgive them everything.
12:45
Ally returns w/taco bell. We gobble - delicious - and prepare to go around back for stalking.
1:20 p.m.
We join the 25 or so fans already waiting at the performer entrance, which consists of standing on the sidewalk between a fairly busy street and a chain-link fence. It’s two or three hours before anyone could reasonably expect the band to show up. The baking glare of the sidewalk is a poor substitute for the shady, grassy hillside where we waited earlier. Sunscreen has been slathered and re-slathered, and all that’s to be done now is wait and sweat.
1:50 p.m.
The manager came back with miniature bottles of water for those who want them. I chugged mine. I have to pee already, but I can wait a couple of hours. It’ll re-absorb as I dehydrate. People are further in than it seems will be allowed, but there aren’t any barricades like there were in May. People have brought a strange, ragtag assortment of items to be autographed, including postcards and what looks like an ink drawing of Bono. The Belgian women wears a cardboard sign around her neck with what might be her name written on it. This puzzles me. The crowd has grown to some 40 stalkers.
2:30
Apparently they’re only releasing GAs one at a time, and they’ve only released 3. Andrea got one - she started the line - but Mandi’s still waiting. Melissa’s blanket, her jacket, and Ally’s jacket are still back in the shade, but I brought all my stuff with me. Still cooking; far too hot to wear my denim jacket. Once in a while a car slows down and someone asks who we’re waiting for. I don’t know why they ask. They never seem particularly impressed by the answer. I think my brain is cooking. I am greasy with sunscreen. At least we ate, thanks to Ally’s valiant Taco Bell run. Otherwise we’d probably faint.
2:53 p.m. More people asking what we’re waiting for and not being particularly impressed with the answer. Lonely guy has recently turned into Jesus Guy. Never trust a man in a yellow necktie.
3:00
Additional security arrives and moves everyone back to the sidewalk outside the gates. We stand and crowd in anticipation.
3:30
People who look like Head Honcho security arrive. Anticipation builds. We eye every shiny black SUV that passes, and the drivers return our gazes uncomprehendingly.
4:00
Band members arrive. Bono and Edge both work the fence for a while, signing autographs. Bono takes someone’s cell phone and speaks into it. You can hear him chat people up: “What’s your name? Ryan! A good Irish name.” He speaks to the crowd a couple of times, mostly inaudibly, and poses with a family for a picture. He doesn’t quite come close enough. Edge comes close enough for eye contact. Response to my “Send Adam” sign was inadequate.
4:30 long bathroom line.
4:40
The GA line seems awfully short. Word is the box office only released like 8. In the line for the bathroom, Andrea and I at the same moment saw a guy at the front of the line who bore a striking resemblance to Adam from just that one angle. We cracked the fuck up, and he totally had to have heard us, because he was looking at us and cracking up. Also he was holding a “need tickets” sign, which, for Adam, was surreal.
4:45 The lineup
5:05 The line stretches to infinity.
5:30 Melissa breaks into Arcade Fire. Everyone within earshot gets it.
5:55 We stand. We fidget. We freak the hell out. Melissa sings various film and TV themes.
6:15 We - Mel, Ally and I get onto the rail exactly where we were May 10. In the ellipse: Mandi, Jessie, Andrea, the Belgian, the Frenchwoman, and everybody. The UC manager comes and gives us more funny looks.
6:50 p.m.
The twelve-hour mark is reached. We three are sitting with out backs to the rail wall. There isn’t really room - I can’t breathe. Mel gave her camera to Jessie. I’m just waiting, waiting for the Arcade Fire and the moment we can applaud Dallas.
7:06 p.m. C’mon, C’mon!
Melissa has agreed to be in charge of the two signs I made, since she doesn’t have a camera. They say “SEND ADAM” and “THANK YOU.” We’re gonna try to write a list for the post-opener, pre U2 music.
7:25
Manager came around with wine for people in the middle. Melissa keeps talking to him, so he brought another case of those small water bottles to pass around. I tucked mine into my bag for later, lest I have to pee too soon. I mean, I’ll have to anyway, but I want to be able to refrain.
7:40 Dashboard Confessional doesn’t suck but isn’t really my thing either. I keep wanting to call them Collective Soul.
8:02 The kind of straightforward pop-rock that all kind of sounds alike to me. I’m too old for ‘em.
8:14 intermediate music, list assembled by us three with help from the people around us.
1. unknown
2. E Pro - Beck
3. unknown
4. Idioteque - Radiohead
5. Mr. Brightside - the Killers

8:30 Dallas in full effect.

6. Beverly Hills - Weezer
7. unknown

8:39 Stuart passes by

8. Picture the View? - the Cure
9. Rebel Rebel - David Bowie

8:45 Dallas passes by.

10: Float On - Modest Mouse

8:47 Ashley and Wynnona Judd walk by. I see Wynona but I don’t recognize or register Ashley; Melissa does.

11. Rock the Casbah!
12. unknown
13. Arcade Fire omg

11:45 p.m. I didn’t write anything during the show. When I was making the list, a security guard came by and asked if I was a reporter. I said aloud, pretending to write, “Security is nice!!” Guy smiled - laughed and made a cha-ching gesture. Then later he came back - much later - and I recognized him and waved. And he handed me a setlist. Not a stage setlist, but a security copy. And ten minutes later he came back and handed one to Melissa. Later when the lights came up we waved and mouthed “thank you” and Melissa blew him kisses. We walked around back and saw him again and waved at each other. Now we’re waiting around at the band entrance/exit to see if they come out again. I’d love to have my set list autographed.
It must be the United Center. My contacts are doing that fuzzy fucked-up thing they did in May.
12:20 a.m.
There are almost 20 of us at the exit gates, but we’re not sure whether the band is still around or not. We don’t see “regulars” type people we recognize or, really, anyone official to ask, either. I wonder whether, if they were still here, there would be security in sight. We’ve seen employee-types leaving, and someone’s walking a wee Jack Russell-type pup down by the loading docks. Everyone else has phone calls to make, friends to tell about the show. I talked to J, but I really don’t have anyone to gush with. During the show I called Shannon, Eileen, and Lisa three or four times, but I didn’t know whether she picked up or not.
12:34 a.m.
We’re down to 14 stalkers. Hope wanes.
12:45 Larry Mullen. Larry. Mullen. Junior. Signed us autographs for all and let us take pictures. I cupped his hand under the set list as he signed it.

Wednesday 9/21
6:00 a.m.
5:15 came even earlier this morning than yesterday. My contacts are still all blurry; I’m packing eyedrops and specs, but I’m not sure what to do about it. We were up till well past 3:00, riding the Larry high. We were giggly and hysterical. I’ll finish updating at the venue, but after Larry we took a cab back and went to a 24-hour breakfast dive down the street. My food got gross very quickly, but it was good that we ate something. I’m - I think we all are - hoping to get several hours’ sleep at the venue. My eyes feel all red and weary. It’s like college but without the booze. At my age that’s far, far too close to an all-nighter for my comfort. And we have about 12 hours before we go in!
Last night the SUV stopped and I couldn’t see who was getting out of it - you could tell it was someone, from the buzz - until Ally, behind me, said “Oh my God, it’s Larry.” He stood there kind of looking and not-looking at us. Someone gave him something to sign and he asked, “Do you have a pen?” Andrea gave him one. He said “Please don’t video me,” and the guy didn’t really hear him, so he said a bit more forcefully, “I don’t want to be video’d.” The guy asked if we could photo him and Larry said yes. He asked if Andrea liked the show, and she said it kicked. More later.
7:20 a.m.
We got here just a bit after 7:00. I’m number 108, which is a bit disappointing, but I’ve had much worse. It’ll work out, though.
… So Larry signed autographs. I handed him my set list and tried to give him my sharpie, but he wouldn’t take it because he already had the pen. From behind me, Melissa said “You’re the holy grail!” I said, “Shh, don’t scare him!” I stepped back a bit and I said “We miss the boom chas.” He looked almost as though he wanted to smile. His shirt was way unbuttoned.
After he signed each thing he glanced at the person and gave a little nod like “We’re done here, right? Check.” He was very patient in a “not sure I really want to be doing this” kind of way. He tried to get to everyone and we all thanked him. My camera battery was basically dead at that point. I got one off-center picture of him with Ally in the frame. My camera didn’t snap in time when Ally, Melissa, and Mandi were posing with him. There aren’t any pictures of me and Larry. When he signed my set list, he put his hand flat under it to sign on it, and I put my hand under his in a gesture meant to help give support or a platform for him to write on, but it ended as my hand flat under his hand. Which probably was offputting, but it’s a nice memory.
8:00
Ally returns from Walgreens with blankets. Melissa makes what I assume is her first phone post of the day. We’ve been telling everyone in line “we met Larry last night” as they walk up. I have a general impression that we’re really obnoxious. Still hoping I don’t have to take out my contacts. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.
9:15
I slept about 90% for 45 minutes or so. I kept hearing conversations and planes. I gave it up and made a “BOOM CHA” sign. P.S. Still have met Larry.
10:00
I’ve been lying down relaxing but I just can’t sleep. Can’t let go that last 5 or 10 percent. I put in foam earplugs, but I just can’t shut out the conversations around me. There’s some talk of renumbering. I hope that’s to my advantage. I don’t have access to a good shade patch. I managed not to burn yesterday. I should write the Neutragena company and thank them.
11:45
They renumbered to account for people who signed up as though they were camping but didn’t seem to be around. I dropped from 108 to 81. Which probably doesn’t make much difference except that the people with those numbers are going to be really pissed off when they come back. I smell a rumble in Brighton.
11:15
Mandi went to box office line. We get snacks from the wagon. I get a cold Pepsi. He didn’t have any meatless sandwiches. I’m hoping I can totally avoid pooping for the whole day. Stinky Guy from May is here. He’s talking to someone who looks like Mysterious Ways woman from May but probably isn’t. We’re planning to go around back to stalk around noon.
12:00 noon
We head around back to stalk. Andrea shows up, and she and Ally both brought umbrellas. We just got here when they brought out the small free water and said they’d be back 3:00-4:00. Don’t know if I can get any sleep on a hard sidewalk next to a busy, smelly street, but if I could it would be awesome. I feel physically unwell from lack of sleep, because I am. I put in my earplugs, but I can still hear conversations and cars loud & clear.
12:20 This really is the ridiculous part, the long, hot wait round back, but meeting Larry last night made anything seem possible.
12:45. It’s way too hot. I decide that if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be ill later. I leave the stalkers and go back to the blankets, leaving “SEND ADAM” with Mel.
3:00
I got a couple hours’ nap time. Mandi and I came over to the gate to stalk now. I don’t feel hungry, but I feel weak.
5:10
Larry came at 4:30, w/Adam and Edge soon after. We waited for Bono till 5:00 Line=clusterfuck.
5:40
Clusterfuck continues, but we all went to the fan club line. Looks ok. Took out contacts.
6:23
None of us scanned in. Rail to the right of Larry. Ally, Mandi, me. Melissa went over to the right corner like last night.
Something I meant to mention was how emotional a reaction fans have when they meet a band member. I remember in May when Bono got out of his car, a woman near us took several steps backward in reaction. When Melissa met Edge in May she cried afterward; yesterday afternoon a woman was sobbing; & last night Mandi wept after we met Larry.
8:15 D. Confessional still emo. We’re clearly all exhausted w/ hurting feet. Just waiting for Arcade Fire!
11:30 Melissa texted me earlier that she saw Billy Corgan.
Thursday 5/22
6:45 a.m.
Last night after the show we walked around to the stalking area. The first night it was pretty abandoned, but the last night in the city there was a certain amount of bustle going on. One of the guards told us the band had left already. We knew there was a peace museum fundraiser that night also. Mandi’s mom, on the phone, told her she’d seen them go too - guess they had a police escort. Andrea’s mom had driven (and let us put junk in her car), and I called J as we went to the car. I babbled meaninglessly for a while. They’d just closed with ‘40’ with Sheriff Larry leaving the stage last, that stud. Andrea’s mom had all this cold bottled water and some potato chips & stuff. To be handed a cold bottle of water as we came out of there - priceless. She drove us back to the hotel, too, so we saved cab fare and had a giggly, chatty good time.
We decompressed for about half an hour. Such a luxury, such a gift to have plumbing. Just to wash one’s hands w/ soap and running water instead of a precious handful of bottled, not to mention using a real toilet that flushes and is clean. 6:15 a.m. wasn’t nearly as early as I’d have guessed. I slept really well for a change. Nothing to anticipate, I suppose.
I have mixed feelings. I’m so glad I don’t have to do that again. My God, it was grueling. And I’m homesick and I miss my things. But the hardship is kind of cool, since a couple of hundred people are doing the same thing. There were so many people we recognized. Fellow autograph seeker. Dancing Spanish speaker. Joy from Phoenix. Guy who slept all day. The guy next to us at the rail. All the people Ally’s met along the way. The concerts themselves, completely awesome. I never want it to end.


8:04 a.m.
Getting on this train reminds me of the time we met Larry.
The strangest adjustment isn’t back to civilization, or to work. The weirdest thing, and oddly difficult, is - for me - the first time (as when waiting for the train) that you’re in a crowd that’s not the crowd at the concert. All these people together waiting for something, and none of them waiting for U2. I don’t recognize any of them, none of them have numbers, none of them camped here overnight. They don’t know what I’m going through. We’re not going to just start a conversation because, unlike the GA line, these people and I are not neighbors. We’re not sort-of suffering together, and we won’t celebrate together later. Arcade Fire means nothing to them.
I’m imaging J’s reaction to my reaction to Arcade Fire in December. December is not enough. I want more. More love, more madness. More face time. More autographs!
It occurs to me this morning that I basically just ate potato chips yesterday. I was thinking how on the way up to Chicago on Monday I really wanted to - and did - avoid using the train bathroom because yecch. 24 hours later, what luxury the train toilet would have seemed.
General notes on train home:

Soundtrack home: Arcade Fire
Miss Sarajevo
“We recorded this with Luciano Pavarotti. He’s not here, but I have been putting on a little weight.”

After a while your ass is sore from sitting on pavement, concrete, and the ground. Your feet hurt from standing and walking. Your knees and joints ache from confinement. You think you can’t bear to stand, but if you squat or kneel it hurts something else just as badly. You have to rotate the aches.
You monitor your intake, trying to stay hydrated enough to feel well but trying to juggle it so you won’t have to pee between 5-11 p.m.
That last hour is horrible. When you’re all lined up but the gates aren’t open yet and you don’t know where you’ll be, and you start making plans about pairing up or teaming up if someone scans. It’s what you waited all day for, it’s the payoff moment for all the late night, early morning, lack of sleep dirty sweaty hungry hot cold sick thirstyness. It’s horrid. The suspense is horrid.

Wed. night the guy behind me asked me what they’d opened with the night before, and I pulled out my setlist. The half-dozen or dozen people who could see it all took a good look and a couple of people took pictures of it, which cracked me up. It felt like my thirty seconds of fame, to cause an extremely small stir. They were looking over our shoulders at our pictures of Larry, too. Ally was looking at her picture with the group and Larry and was zooming in on his chest, and I, standing behind Ally, heard a guy like two people behind me say something about it. (“They’re zooming in on his nipple!”)

Word is that Kanye West will open in St. Louis.

At the end it’s weird, strangers saying goodbye. “Did you say you’re going to Detroit? See you in Cleveland!” It’s amazing where everyone’s from. The first night Ally was right next to some other guys from LA.

“The Edge is from the future. Not just the future, but from another planet in another galaxy in the future. … I’m serious. … When his spaceship came down in the north side of Dublin it was making that sound. And Larry asked him, “Where are you from?” And Edge said, “I’m from the future.” And Adam asked him, “What’s it like in the future?” And Edge said, … “It’s better.”

I swear Melissa (or Andrea?) was talking to someone who was like “last May they were filming the scan-in line for Good Morning America,” and (Andrea?) said “We have a friend who was scanned in and she was so excited she kind of freaked out and they showed it on TV” and the guy said - no shit - “Oh! Was she wearing a pink tank top??”

It’s weird how the body responds. I don’t exert myself much, so this is strange. There are moments in the day where all you can think about is how hungry you are or how thirsty you are or how much your feet hurt or whatever, but it passes. Mostly it passes in the euphoria and excitement and anticipation of the event. But like today, yeah, I’m looking forward to an actual decent meal, but at the same time it makes you realize how much people overeat. I know there’s a happy medium, but it makes you just go, Do I really need to eat so much?

Bono, toward the back, hesitantly: “This is … this is a song that …” Comes forward, checks monitor, continues with assurance. “Yeah. This is a song that we haven’t played much …”

The first night there wasn’t any doubt that Bono saw our “send Adam” sign. He kind of did a little double-take. I MADE BONO DO A DOUBLE-TAKE.

Also the first night some people in the second tier on Adam’s end had a big sheet-sign that just said ADAM. At the end he shaded his eyes to look up at them, then gave them a big wave.

The second night when Adam was on the ramp by us he most definitely made eye contact with me and Ally and gave us a big grin.

Bono impersonator was a different Bono both days. First day, he was straw-cowboy-hat, all-denim Bono. Second day, he was green military cap, Love and Peace jacket Bono. He’s a bit younger, but he really does look startlingly like Bono. Guess he’s from a tribute band. That guy’s always in the ellipse, but he doesn’t camp out, he shows up late. He’s always working the crowd, too. Wish I’d managed to get a picture of him, but I hardly even got pictures of my real friends, because I was trying to save my camera battery for later.

Dear God, I like U2 more than ever. This can’t be over. Can I find a way to get to Cleveland?

Thursday night
A day later and it’s surreal. I feel so empowered … it’s weird not to have anything on the horizon. My sharpie numbers are nearly worn off. Yesterday Ally and I were saying how everything was The Best Ever because we were so desperate. The best water, the best potato chips, even the best nap on the ground with the sun in your face. This afternoon, today, I feel like everything is kind of new. Running water, not just for a half hour but all the time. Access to a toilet. I was home for hours before I thought to look in the fridge. Milk! Oh, God, milk! I took a big drink. It was the Best Milk Ever. Dinner had vegetables in it and I ate a whole meal with silverware off plates. Corn! Best corn ever!
It’s the little things.
One thing I learned is that it’s worth the weight of an extra bottle of water in your bag just so you’ll have it later. It doesn’t matter how warm the water is, it just matters that there’s water. My hands are clean. My fingernails are clean. After putting on sunscreen a couple of times, my nails were always filthy. It got to the point where you’d pick up someone’s discarded nearly-empty bottle of water to pour some in your hand and do a quick wipe-wash. This afternoon I took a nap in a bed with sheets and a pillow, indoors. In two days I became obsessed with water and how much and when, and with where and when I could urinate. I felt compelled to have a bottle of water on the train this afternoon.

I thought when I got back from city driving, I was a faster driver here. But when I got home from 3 days of being in a car only when I was a passenger in a Chicago taxicab, I noticed that I drove … like a cab driver once I got back home.

U2 show, St. Louis, Dec. 14, 2005: pictures, part 2 of 2

Here's the last batch of U2 photos, from the Dec. 14, 2005, St. Louis show.




Throw your hands in the air!












lights on!


B/A on ramp.


Terrible picture, but Adam leaning to thank and touch people. *thud*





Note Adam.








Mmm. Nice.


Even nicer. With bonus B.


Bono running so fast that all you can see is kind of a leg. He’s so speedy he’s become invisible. No, Bono! Don’t turn into butter!


Speedy Edge speeding past. Dude, my pictures are blurry when you’re standing still.



E ran safely to base and now is a rock god.






I like this one. It’s all about levels.




This one too. The juxtaposition.




Adam had trouble getting it to feed back. He had to keep going back to the amps. My final pictures were pretty bad because my camera battery was dying.






No cowboy hat, no rosary. Bono did leave the spotlight he’d turned on the crowd sitting by his mic stand, but Larry didn’t grab it.
And goodnight.