If the Mayans were right and Friday, December 21, 2012 marks the end of the world, we should be safe in using our remaining hours to lay down what it’s all about. I’m talking about partying. At rock concerts. Here’s your chance to share a memorable tale (or two) of your most rockin’ wasted time at a concert.
The first one that comes to mind for me started with an 8-inch Thai stick spliff smoked on the car ride to Philadelphia’s historic Academy of Music to see an early ’80s, full-tilt boogie version of The Temptations, featuring a reunited David Ruffin and Eddie Kendricks. There was maybe a month-long period when we were scoring Thai stick. It was AWESOME. Much wisdom came from that stuff as our band first got its shit together.
We entered the majestic Academy of Music, squirmed through a warm-up comedian, and then had our minds blown as The white tux-donned Temps descended a glass staircase and took their place at that amazing multi-prong mic stand. Cloud nine indeed! It goes without saying that stoned 20-year-old dorks that we were we felt EXTRA-COOL for being the youngest, whitest people in attendance.
Man, that was a legendary show and a legendary high. Even Ruffin replacement Dennis Edwards stumbled on stage and reunited with the band for a song or two. He had a buzz on that went far beyond the joys of Thai stick.
That night helped me understand what it’s all about.
Silly me, I thought rock concerts were for the music. Or for flirting.
I can share several stories of pre-concert shenanigans, but I’ve always been too square, too self-conscious, or too interested in the music to get completely wasted before or during a show.
I saw the Replacements the first time stone cold sober, and they were a.) drunk and b.) terrible. I resolved to see them drunk out of my mind the next time they came to town, to see if that might help. This I did, a few months later. They were still terrible, and I had a skull-crushing hangover to show for my experiment.