I Had a Mid-life Crisis and Brought the Kids!

[luddite lady]

Thanks, Tamadude. My multi-tasking abilities are stretched to the limit right now. September sucks. It's a beautiful time of year but it sucks for me. I have to deal with the start of school, dance season and cross country season and soccer season isn't done yet. Plus, my son and I have taken up fencing. This place and my fencing class are the only "me" time I have these days. And I have to cut back on this place so I can get a few hours of sleep a night.
That's my very long winded way of saying that it might be a while before I post any more of my story.

ETA: Oh yeah! And they HAD to call a federal election, didn't they? I'm kind of involved in that stuff, too. I ain't gonna make it to October!

[luddite lady]

Part 6
Before heading out to the show, I took a shower and changed into relatively mild Nutter gear, a green Police shirt, black jeans covering purple striped tube socks and grey hi-cut Chucks. The Boy and Dancerina put on their T shirts which sported several crazy ironed on slogans like "Stewpid and Proud" and "I'm just a nutter kid". Then we were off to concert number one.
Traffic going into the park was insane. By the time we got into the SPAC grounds Elvis was on to "Every Day I Write the Book" which has usually been the third song of his set. There were already huge crowds assembled on the lawn. We scouted out several locations before laying down our tarps on a very steep part of the bowl on the far Sting side. The view and the topography allowed for a slightly less dense crowd there. The view of Sting turned out to be somewhat obstructed but it was a good angle from which to see the percussion rack, drum kit and Andy. Plus, we had an excellent view of one of the many video screens set up for us in the cheapie area. To call this part of the venue "the lawn" was a misnomer. After a couple weeks of near daily rain, the lawn had been reduced to a slippery incline of mud with intermittent tufts of tenaciously rooted grass. I was glad that I had chosen green plastic picnic table clothes over blankets as our ground cover.
We were fortunate to enjoy a warm, clear and starry night. I don't want to think of what the scene would have been like on the lawn if we had experienced one of those sudden downpours that occur frequently at this time of year. There would have been definite injuries as people ran for cover.
In our rush to get to the venue we had not eaten dinner. So during Elvis' set we dined on our supply of picnic goodies that we had brought in with us. My sister is the queen of snack smugglers. I believe she has never bought a crumb or drop of over-priced stadium/arena/cinema grub in all her life. We dined that night on ketchup flavoured potato chips, peanut butter cream cookies and stale red licorice all washed down with a few juice boxes. Nutrition be damned! We just wanted to rock. Still, it felt like some sort of corrupt kindergarten snack time. We were still wiping away the crumbs from our faces as Elvis finished "Peace, Love and Understanding" and I told my gang, "Now's the time to start getting really excited!"

[luddite lady]

Part 7
While the crew was setting things up for The Police, The Boy and I wandered down to the rail that separates the lawn from the covered section with real seats. My sister and Dancerina were good enough sports to stay with our stuff on the hillside. The Boy weaseled his way right up to the rail. He's short, young, cute and was wearing a homemade fan T shirt. All these things worked in his favour. He really wasn't blocking anyone's view as there were only adults in this area. I managed to squeeze in right behind him while doing my best distressed mother imitation. "Oh my, there you are! Oh my goodness! Excuse me I'm trying to get to my son down there. He's only nine. I'm here, honey. Don't worry. I'm coming." Once I reached him and he assured me that he was okay with standing for the rest of the night, the two of us were parked there all evening. It was the best view available from the lawn. We were still extreme Sting side but totally unobstructed by other audience members.
There wasn't much real grass on the lawn, but there was plenty of the whacky combustible kind around us. The air was thick with it. I don't know anything about the effects of this type of second hand smoke, but my son went from hating the smell to really enjoying it by the end.
"It smells liked freshed bake cookies now, Mom!" he exclaimed, bleary eyed and smiling at one point late in the show. He now occasionally refers to "the time he was high at that concert". He started on this with me once in front of his daycare supervisor and once in front of my extremely stuffy older brother. I don't think either of them are going to be nominating me any time soon for the Mother of the Year Award.
The Police sounded amazing that night. Without the close up visuals to distract me, I really concentrated on the sound. The tempo seemed faster on most songs than I remembered from the earlier gigs I had attended. Stewart owned the show. I heard a lot of high praise for him from the non-partisan crowd around me. I'd say they made more positive comments about "the drummer" than they did about Sting or Andy. Actually, a few of them even knew his name. Nonetheless, Sting was in great voice that night and Andy was laying down some really sweet sounds. Sting and Andy especially impressed me on WWIRD.
I kept studying the video screen when they showed shots of the audience in hopes of seeing Mad and JenX with the Flag. But to no avail. The Boy and I saw Nancyrose once on the screen and let out a squee that confused those around us. With my eye on the screen, I further confused people by screaming out a few times, "He pointed. Did you see that? He pointed!" Each time The Boy just smiled at me and nodded as if he were DM or something.

[English-lion]

[quote="luddite lady"]
ETA: Oh yeah! And they HAD to call a federal election, didn't they? I'm kind of involved in that stuff, too. I ain't gonna make it to October![/quote]


Oh it will be over way before the Americans vote



Keep it coming Loving it!!

Did your boy get the munchies????

[Maud138]

[quote="luddite lady"]Part 7
I managed to squeeze in right behind him while doing my best distressed mother imitation. "Oh my, there you are! Oh my goodness! Excuse me I'm trying to get to my son down there. He's only nine. I'm here, honey. Don't worry. I'm coming." Once I reached him and he assured me that he was okay with standing for the rest of the night, the two of us were parked there all evening. [/quote]


Nice work, mommy

[policerule]

I'm trying to keep up, but I just can't sit still long enough. I'll catch up shortly, LL...

[kimmy]

Mrs Lady.....

I've been sooo busy that it was only today I caiught up with you!

And...... I've only got to part 7! I think this storywith have to go into another series!

It's FAB!! Can't wait to read about the trip when your dad arrives!! Ha!! It'll be great...... and very funny...... I can imagine the build up!


Keep it coming!!


Kimmy

[luddite lady]

Part 8
A group of increasingly drunk male 20 somethings were standing right behind The Boy and me. When the band left the stage before the encores, they began to freak out. One looked like he was going to weep, "That's it? No way man! What about that song...I can't remember the name...but that song...?"
Another looked liked he was on the verge of violence, "What the hell? No Roxanne?!?"
I told them that there was still more to come. This made them happy and calm, but I then became their personal oracle.
"The lady says there's more, man. Cool! What are they going to play, lady?"
"How many more songs now, Ma'am?"
By the end of it I was the one on the verge of tears and violence. A lot of people were leaving the seated area just before "Next To You". My drunken comrades thought this hilarious because the ancient hag in front of them had assured them of one more song. When they chose this moment to try to jump the railing and get seats up close, I told them to go for it. I don't know how successful they were but The Boy and I were at least able to enjoy the last song without fielding any more slobbery questions.
When the concert came to a close we met up with Dancerina and Sis' again. Without being asked, my daughter, who does her level best to dislike all that I am fond of, grudgingly told me that she enjoyed the show and thinks that The Police are "okay". If the boys knew Dancerina, they'd understand that this admission coming from her is about as high an honour as a Grammy.
As we took the long walk back to the car, The Boy told me he had been "inspired" by the concert. He wanted to become a guitar player. I tried to hide my disappointment when I asked, "Not interested in the drums?"
He replied, "Sorry, Mom. I was watching Stewart. I don't think I could work that hard every night."
You gotta admit The Boy has a point.

[Maud138]

[quote="luddite lady"]As we took the long walk back to the car, The Boy told me he had been "inspired" by the concert. He wanted to become a guitar player. I tried to hide my disappointment when I asked, "Not interested in the drums?"
He replied, "Sorry, Mom. I was watching Stewart. I don't think I could work that hard every night."
You gotta admit The Boy has a point.[/quote]

Oh that really made me laugh! He is a very clever boy .

[luddite lady]

Sorry that this is taking sooooo long to complete. Life is kind of happening a lot lately. At this rate, I'll be done by the one year anniversary of MSG.
Part 9
The walk back to the car seemed endless. I kept scanning the crowds for signs of Nutters. And then I saw them! A little ways in front of us were two women wearing retro gym shorts, tube socks and green T shirts. I didn't know who they were from the back but I knew I had hit the jack pot.
When I pointed them out to my gang Dancerina moaned, "Oh no. You have found your people. You're not going to actually talk to them are you?"
"Hell, yeah."
"What if they are not even two of your cult friends?" she asked.
"Look at how they are dressed," I countered.
"Maybe they're just insane." She paused. "Oh right. If they are your Internet friends then they are insane anyway."
I didn't stick around for any more of Dancerina's abuse. I was speed walking and dodging people to catch up to the green cladded ladies ahead. Once I was close enough to read the word Madgrad on the back of one of the shirts, I just lunged mindlessly at the poor woman. I gave Mad a big old bear hug from behind while saying "Mad! Mad! Mad!" Before Madgrad could collect her shit or JenX could dial 911 on her cell phone, I introduced myself. I had forgotten that they had never seen a picture of me and that my concert get up was a tad more subtle than theirs. When I realized this, I apologized to them for my completely un-Canadian behaviour. (We're the people that typically say sorry to lamp posts if we brush them on a crowded street.) After a moment or two of excited flag/concert related chatter between the three of us, the rest of my gang caught up to us. I introduced them to Mad and JenX. Then without missing a beat, Madgrad looked at Sis' and said very convincingly, "Aren't you John's sister?" Previously, I had asked her on this site to say that if the occasion should arise. My siblings and I had always lived in the shadow of my oldest brother, John when we were growing up. My Mom would even introduce us as John's sister/brother. I thought this throw back to old times would get under Sis' skin a little or maybe make her laugh. Not so. She gave Madgrad a look that made Sting's deathstare look like something coming from a Sunday school teacher. I seriously feared for Mad's life for a moment. I think Madgrad had the same thought.
Pointing at me, she said, "She told me to say that."
Simultaneously, I was pointing at myself and saying, "I told her to say that." I felt like I was in grade 4. My sister then had a good laugh at our expense.

[luddite lady]

Part 10
As we arrived back at the motel in Schenectady The Boy asked my sister a question that I had never thought to ask her. He wanted to know if she had ever been to a Police concert before. Her answer astounded me.
With her typical nonchalance about such things she said, "Yeah, I saw them once about thirty years ago. They were playing at a place in Toronto called The Edge. I believe it was in 1978. I saw them for the cost of a pitcher of beer split three ways."
My jaw dropped open, but it made perfect sense. My sister would have been about 20 years old then and I remember she went to see a lot of new bands with her friends who worked for an independent record label. In fact, that is how she met her husband.
She continued, "I recall that they were cute and fun. They all wore striped shirts back then. It was good stuff, a little raw, but good."
At this I was thinking, "I know of one who is STILL cute and fun and looking pretty good in the striped shirts." I didn't get to articulate my thought, however, because my sister was still talking. She smiled, "I like seeing them once ever thirty years. Maybe they'll get back together thirty years from now and do this reunion thing for me again." Ha! There's a challenge for you, Stewart. I'm sure my sister will still be going strong. And I think Andy could still be rocking at 97. Sting will have probably perserved himself in one of those hyperbolic chambers. Keep eating those Wheeties, Mr. Copeland! Come 2038, you don't want to disappoint one of your earliest and most intermittent fans.
I didn't want to argue the point with my sister but I thought that I had read that The Police had played The Horseshoe for their first Toronto gig, and not The Edge. This was bugging me so much that I recently asked Dietmar about it. After all, who should I believe? My own sister who had lived the experience or some guy in Germany that I met for about five seconds in a parking lot on Long Island? Well, when the guy in question is Dietmar and we are talking about The Police, the answer is obvious. Just today I was able to tell my sister that she had seen The Police at The Edge in March 1979 and that I had on my computer the scans of two different original posters advertising the gig should she require further proof. What's more, the ticket price was $5. (But knowing my sister and her insider friends, she may have got into the club for nothing. She probably smuggled some of her red licorice in too) She graciously stood corrected about the dates.

We were all pretty tired, so the kids settled into bed without too much fuss. I had to be up at 7:30 a.m to meet my intrepid travellers, Sporterella and Daddy-o, at the local bus terminal. My sister and I cut short our trip down memory lane for the time being so that I could get some sleep too.

[Maud138]

Yay for Dietmar!

I still love your story, LL, please keep writing. You still have a few days before Sockii's deadline

[luddite lady]

oooops. Double post.

[luddite lady]

Part 11
I dragged myself out of bed and leaving my sleeping kids and sister behind, I made the short drive to the bus terminal. Schenectady is a manufacturing town that seems to have already fallen on hard times a while ago. In the quiet of an early Saturday morning, however, with the sun glittering on a town still damp from an overnight shower, this place exuded an unexpected peaceful beauty. Or maybe it was just the effects of the risidual pot smoke from the night before. At any rate, this moment of calm and loveliness would not last long. The bus arrived on schedule, but without my awaited passengers aboard. When I inquired at the ticket counter, the woman there told me that there had been a disturbance at the border overnight and that most of the Canadian passengers would have missed their connecting buses once they had arrived state side. Upon hearing the words "disturbance at the border" my immediate thought was, "What has Dad done now?" But then a more sinister thought came to mind. Just a day before our departure the most grotesque and bizarre incident to ever happen on a bus in Canada was making news around the world. If you know what I'm talking about, I'm sorry for recalling that awful specter for you. If you don't know, be happy in your ignorance. I kept telling myself that stuff like that is too nutso and random to happen twice in a row. Another part of my brain though was whispering, "Copy cat psychos. Copy cat psychos." I was also a little concerned that the two had not called me on my cell once they were aware of the delay. They didn't have a cell phone of their own, but I was sure there'd be a pay phone at the bus terminal where they were held up.
"Don't count on it working in one of these joints though, Honey," said the lady behind the counter as she listened to me muse out loud. She really was quite helpful despite her overriding pessimism. She became my only friend and ally as I shuttled back and forth from the motel to the bus terminal all morning. There were several possible buses that Sporterella and Daddy-O may have connected with. Each time I showed up to greet a bus, I was greeted with disappointment. Greyhound Woman tried to phone various terminals to hunt down my passengers but she only got answering machines. "Am I the only one working in this damn company?" was one message she left. Another one was, "After working 17 years for this company, don't you dare tell me 'Thank you for choosing Greyhound!'" Bless her. This woman's rumpled humour helped me from falling into a full panic. The retelling of her little one-liners also lightened the mood of my gang back at the motel every time I showed up empy-handed again.
Finally, at about 1:45 p.m. a bus arrived and deposited two very tired travellers into my anxious outstretched arms. Long awaited hugs were exchanged. The two of them blurted out their story at the same time. It was so rushed and confused that I still don't know what happened to this day. It's safe to say, however, that:
A. my Dad did not cause an international incident at the border,
B. they may have well ended up in NYC if they hadn't jumped off a bus at a rest stop
C.my Dad still believes it is never OK to phone somebody in the middle of the night
D. Sporterella now has her own cell phone.

[Maud138]

Ahhhhh cellphones. Now I know how we did it, when there weren't any....... We did not.
A lot of things went wrong and there was a lot more stress!