A roadie suddenly appears and runs down the length of the security gate, squirting water into various people’s mouths from a water bottle. Gabe motioned to the guy that I needed some water which I flat-out rejected. “Lisa, you have to get into the spirit of things!” I responded with, “Are you nuts? I don’t know where that bottle’s been!” (loss of cool points due to middle-age comment about germs).
As the music continues, I come to realize that the band(s) are angry. They are singing One Man! One Fight! while shaking their fists in the air. I’m at a loss. What are we supposed to be angry about? I can be as angry as the next guy, but I need a specific topic. Oh, I know! I’ll be angry about hidden cell phone plan fees. Better yet, ATM fees! Nothing infuriates me off more than getting charged for using a rogue ATM. Now THAT is something to rage about.
The singer takes a moment to renounce the war we’re not supposed to be fighting and support our troops. I’m all in for supporting our troops, but which war are we upset over? I need clarification. Iraq? Afghanistan? War on drugs? War on Wall Street? I wanted to raise my hand and ask, but I felt that would send my cool stocks plummeting. Not willing to risk it, I kept my angry face intact by thinking about my HMO.
The music comes to an end and everyone crowds around the merchandise tables. Feeling the need to prove my coolness by purchasing a concert shirt, I approach one of the black-garbed, bored-looking assistants and ask her what the name of a particular band means.
“Standing together, united, in a state of aggressive euphoria,” she disdainfully says to me.
“Well, may I have a black one with the pretty colors in a small?” (cool points bottom out at this remark).
Overall, the night was a unique experience and yes, I would do it again. Once my ears stopped bleeding, the music was actually pretty good. My kidneys have stopped trembling and I will feel major cool when wearing my anti-establishment t-shirt.
Best of all, I’ve already chosen my rage-against-the-machinesque topic for my next venture. I needed something to whip me into a mental frenzy. Nothing so mundane as hatred against the oil companies, Wall Street or the intrusiveness of Big Sister/Big Brother into our lives. I needed something REAL.
I hate those things. Every time I buy a magazine I have to go through it and remove those annoying cards before I can enjoy my reading. That just riles me up, I tell you.
Someone has to take a stand and that someone is… me. And I’ll be my wearing pretty-colored shirt, too.
Til next time,