“It’s all fucked up…”
No, not Journey! They were fine. The process for viewing their performance, and the circumstances entailed in such a cluster fuck. Three separate streams of people feeding from a vast array of parking opportunities, toward a single entry point. The young twenty-something part-time employees adorned in red tee shirts labeled as “Security” were going to allow just one of those streams of hundreds of ticket holding concert goers to enter the gates, before allowing the other lines to merge. One of the men standing near us said out loud: “Fuck this, who’s going with me” and everyone looked at each other and collectively mumbled: “Yeah”
Only to watch him walk away alone, until he stepped right into the moving line we had all been jealously observing for the past half hour. “Fuck that” the observers said, and we all pushed into the flow of entrants presenting our tickets to see the show.
After enduring this chaos just to get inside the venue, we then spent the remainder of the daylight hours consistently getting up and down out of our seats to let people in and out of the row. This was intermittently connected to the overwhelming urge for many of the concert goers to hug and greet one another, as if they hadn’t seen each other for months on end. “Glad handing” is the term my grandfather used to describe this disingenuous social politeness for the sake of appearance. I guess we all succumb to that form of “fake self” to sell our pleasurable disposition for the sake of personal marketing, but those tickets were $140 each, and there were 8 of us there together. Seems like an expensive way to visit with people you only see at these gatherings?
All the while, there are legitimate concerns, that because they don’t offer an excuse to hang out with people you hardly know, don’t get the true consideration they probably deserve. Ever wonder why it’s Donald Trump vs Hilary Clinton…?