I have never been a concert fan. I don't like crowds and rarely am I impressed at the drunken shenanigans of my favorite bands. The last time I went to a large concert was the Warped Tour back in 2001. The bands sucked except for Alien Ant Farm, and it was 100 degrees outside. Whoever decided to combine motocross and shitty punk/ska should be deported to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Even one of my favorite bands, 311, managed to stay drunk most of the show and butcher their best songs, making me stop listening to them for almost a full year.
With this massive amount of concert baggage, I accepted an invitation from my good friend Andrew Poole to attend the Tom Petty concert at the Gorge Amphitheater. I didn't really want to go see Tom Petty because I saw him live once at the Idaho Center and it sucked ass. The Wallflowers opened and then Tom got on the stage and did a half-assed job of everything, reminding me that nobody worth a damn in the music industry gives a shit about fans that live in Idaho. I decided to go because the opener for Tom was The Black Crowes, who are probably the only musicians out there that I cannot help but admit are 100 times cooler than I will ever be.
Let's just say I rolled into the campground outside the Gorge with a fair bit of skepticism. We drove past throngs of frat boys sans wife beaters (which were tucked into the back pocket of their jeans) with white baseball caps appropriately turned backwards. These guys were yelling obscene things at underdeveloped 15-but-look-18 year-old girls walking around the campsite. This isn't to say that the majority were young fans...there were all ages there. When we drove up to our campsite, we parked next to a fucking PEACH of a group of fans. They were all fishermen from Alaska, and by the time we arrived at 4:30 they were demolished beyond all recognition from drinking out of an unmarked pickle jar. After a series of introductions, our new friend Leif coined the phrase "Bering Sea Motherfucker" in reference to his short friend Pete who was 24 years old and had three children, the oldest of whom was SEVEN. Do the math in your head while I tell you that Pete had an Iron Maiden shirt on and thought that the most badass concert he'd ever been to was Night Ranger with Quiet Riot. Leif and Pete kept threatening to kick each other's asses in an odd homoerotic way that would continue throughout the evening.
I haven't even gotten into the concert, and already I am having a better time. I could have sat in my chair, beer in hand, and just watched the crowds walk by and I would have had the time of my life. Three teenagers strolled by with bottles of whiskey and they were so absolutely demolished I doubt they could make their way to the concert, considering they couldn't walk in a straight line. On the way to the gates I saw some fucked up looking rednecks who seemed shocked to find that they were carrying a baby when they got to the entrance of the show. They sort of awkwardly passed the child back and forth like it would somehow perform the perfect series of motions to teleport the child to their parents' house. Upon entering I turned around to see a guy wearing a black t-shirt sporting the words "Fuck Allah, and all his mindless followers too." He had his jean jacket slung over his shoulder and was smiling like the huge walking dick that he was. He looked sauced and probably pissed in his pants minutes later, so I took that as a small victory.
Next: The concert and everything after.
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