Stiffy's Big Night Out At The Art Center
A couple of weeks ago I went to see a show at the PNC Art Center in Holmdel. I hadn't been to the Art Center since 2000, when I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers with the Foo Fighters.
Most shows I've seen have been in small clubs with an intimate atmosphere, where you could get close to the stage and really feel the band, not to mention actually seen them. I don't get how people can pay huge amounts of money to go to a huge stadium only to watch the band on the big TV because they can't actually see the band on the stage. It's not how it's supposed to be.
Now I've never been a big fan of the Art Center, with it's inadequate parking, over priced tickets and young crowds. Yet every couple of years or so I give in to the temptation when someone I really want to see is playing there. But it's almost never worth the hassle. This time was no exception.
The show was No Doubt with Paramore. I really like Paramore and of course No Doubt rocks, so how could I resist such a solid double bill? I convinced my wife to go with me, as she likes both bands too, and since we hadn't been out on a proper date in a very long time, we figured this was the perfect chance to get away from the boys for an evening and have some fun.
Getting tickets wasn't too difficult, it was just a matter of whether any decent seats were still available. Fortunately a pair dead center in the third section were open and I snapped them up. I laughed at myself as I paid over 100 bucks apiece, plus the fees and charges. A hundred dollars would have gotten me into ten shows back in the day. But if I wanted to see the show, then that was the price. Even though I could afford it with my grown up salary, there was something wrong about paying 100 dollars for a seat that wasn't actually on the stage.
On the night of the show we dropped the boys at the neighbors at 6:30 and told them we'd be back by 11:30 or so. I figured it would take about an hour to get there even with some traffic and that we'd still have plenty of time to see Paramore. Art Center delusions had set in early.
Just as we pulled away, the sky to the northwest began to turn black and we knew we'd be getting a monster thunderstorm. We managed to get to Rt. 1 before the sky opened up. Traffic ground to a slow crawl as the sheets of rain made visibility next to nothing. It ultimately took us an hour just to get to the Parkway, where we ran into rain/shore/show/late commuter traffic. I realized then it would likely take ANOTHER hour to get to the Art Center and God only knows how much longer to park and get to our seats. Oh well, at least we had the Green Day CD with us to play in the car. You've all purchased your own copies by now, right?
The final mile sitting in the Art Center entrance lane took a solid 30 minutes. As we came up the hill on the southbound side, a couple of guys began to direct us towards an overflow parking field. At this point I made the smartest decision of the evening. As we were pulling into the field, which by the way was very wet and soon to be very muddy from the recent downpour, I realized that if I followed the line of cars I was in, we'd be trapped in a mud pit and unable to leave until all the cars parked around us had left. And as I observed several cars ahead of us slip and slide and get stuck after moving only a few yards into the field, I concluded there was no way I was going to do that. I quickly moved out of line and parked right next to the access road and just before the guard rail that would have pinned us in till mid summer. Since the parking at this point was a random free for all, no one really noticed or cared. The car that ultimately took our spot in line became immediately stuck, and then completely blocked in by the following cars. It would likely be a very long evening for them.
Assured that our future had been saved from a muddy hell, we exited the car and began the mile long hike under the Parkway to the Art Center on the northbound side. At this point it was about 8:30 and it was likely we were going to miss most of Paramore. But I was cool with everything, since there was nothing I could do about any of it and there was no reason not to have as good a time as possible. After all, I was alone with my wife, and we were at least going to see No Doubt.
After wandering through the parking lot we finally arrived at the single entrance way to the arena. We were groped by security and herded through the gate and marched up the hill. It had been a long time since I had been here and I forgot how many of the winding pathways towards the back of the arena end at nowhere. So after a few false starts, we drifted all the way to the left and found the way to the seated area. By now Paramore had been on awhile and were due to quit at any moment. I was bummed, but the little I did witness was impressive. They finished their set with Decode and the place went absolutely bonkers. Wow, can she sing.
Just as we were getting ready to head to our seats, Paramore finished and a wave of humanity charged out of the arena right towards us. We had to move to the side so as not to get run over by the mobs of folks racing to the bathroom or looking for a spot to light up. At that moment of course my wife had to pee so we moved back to the concession area and stood on line for the bathroom.
Up till this point my sweet wife had been a real trooper. But the strain of the long drive plus the rain and the crazy mob and the long line for the john pushed her over the edge. She started to give me that "I want to go home now" look. But I made it clear that we were going to see No Doubt, especially because we had worked so hard to get to this point. As she moved towards the bathroom I reminded her this wasn't the Ritz Carlton, and that she should just squat and squirt and not think about it. She wasn't amused.
While she was wading through the ladies room, I spent a few moments soaking in the scene. I was amazed at the number of young people smoking. Hadn't they heard? Maybe smoking is even cooler now that we all know how bad it is. Ahhh, rebellion. And sadly, future customers. I wandered over to the beer vendor and noticed that a 16 oz. cup of light beer was 9 bucks. Awesome. I saw a number of middle aged parents with pre teens. Would I take my 10 year old here? Maybe. The funniest sight was the hordes of lawn ticket holders absolutely covered in mud. In fact by now the whole place was a sea of mud and you had to be careful not to slip and get hurt.
The arena was a hoard of teenagers and twenty somethings filled with earnest and energy. Other than the disturbing number of tattoos, it could have easily been mistaken for a crowd from 1990. I was glad to see that not too much had changed other than the crazy prices. I loved the energy buzzing all around me and missed being able to do this more often. Those were the days.
When Mrs. Biceptz emerged from the trauma of the girls bathroom, we were finally ready to get to our seats. By now the crowd had calmed down and we could move to the seated area. It turned out that our seats were easy to get to and most of the folks in our section were well above 30 years old.
Around 9:30 No Doubt finally came on, and they put on a great show. Gwen looked and sounded fantastic and the band was tight and totally into it. Within two songs a big smile had crept onto my wife's face and she had forgotten about all the nonsense she had had to put up with to get here. Now we were finally having some fun. "She's had two kids??" My wife was amazed anyone woman that had given birth could have a flat belly like that.
At 9:45 I made the second best decision of the night. At that point I was happy that we had made it to our seats and had seen a bit of No Doubt, after missing Paramore. But I began to think about how insane it would be trying to get out of here when the show was over. The mad rush of the crowd, the traffic, the muddy field. I figured that if we left when the show actually ended, we most likely wouldn't get home until well after midnight. And the thought of dealing with the traffic just crawling to the Parkway made me ill. I looked over at Jackie who at the moment was enjoying herself and determined that if we waited to the end, it would spoil the fragile success we had achieved so far. She'd be exhausted, our neighbors would be annoyed, and I'd be very unhappy. I turned to Jackie and said, "Let's leave at 10, OK?" She was initially shocked that I would agree to, let alone want to leave a show early, but was thinking exactly along the same lines and was ready to leave whenever I wanted to.
In the good old days I would never have considered leaving any show early, save for some sort of calamity or an opportunity for sex, or if the show really sucked, and the only show I ever walked out on was in 1987 when PIL played in Asbury Park, because they sucked so badly.
With everyone focused on No Doubt it was easy to escape our seats and leave the arena. We walked through the largely empty concession area and into the dark parking lot. We saw only two other people during the long quiet walk back to the car. Were they as wise as we were? No they were just really drunk. We got to our perfectly parked car, got in, and were on the Parkway home in less than a minute. Had we waited, it would have taken at least a half hour.
On the ride home I realized that despite the craziness, the traffic, the weather, the $200 for the tickets, and ultimately seeing only about 30 minutes of the show, I somehow had had a great time. The whole experience had been a big silly adventure, but had been entertaining none the less and we laughed about all the wackiness the whole way home.
One thing I was sure of was I wasn't going to back to the Art Center anytime soon, at least for another decade.
I'd better start saving for tickets now...
Most shows I've seen have been in small clubs with an intimate atmosphere, where you could get close to the stage and really feel the band, not to mention actually seen them. I don't get how people can pay huge amounts of money to go to a huge stadium only to watch the band on the big TV because they can't actually see the band on the stage. It's not how it's supposed to be.
Now I've never been a big fan of the Art Center, with it's inadequate parking, over priced tickets and young crowds. Yet every couple of years or so I give in to the temptation when someone I really want to see is playing there. But it's almost never worth the hassle. This time was no exception.
The show was No Doubt with Paramore. I really like Paramore and of course No Doubt rocks, so how could I resist such a solid double bill? I convinced my wife to go with me, as she likes both bands too, and since we hadn't been out on a proper date in a very long time, we figured this was the perfect chance to get away from the boys for an evening and have some fun.
Getting tickets wasn't too difficult, it was just a matter of whether any decent seats were still available. Fortunately a pair dead center in the third section were open and I snapped them up. I laughed at myself as I paid over 100 bucks apiece, plus the fees and charges. A hundred dollars would have gotten me into ten shows back in the day. But if I wanted to see the show, then that was the price. Even though I could afford it with my grown up salary, there was something wrong about paying 100 dollars for a seat that wasn't actually on the stage.
On the night of the show we dropped the boys at the neighbors at 6:30 and told them we'd be back by 11:30 or so. I figured it would take about an hour to get there even with some traffic and that we'd still have plenty of time to see Paramore. Art Center delusions had set in early.
Just as we pulled away, the sky to the northwest began to turn black and we knew we'd be getting a monster thunderstorm. We managed to get to Rt. 1 before the sky opened up. Traffic ground to a slow crawl as the sheets of rain made visibility next to nothing. It ultimately took us an hour just to get to the Parkway, where we ran into rain/shore/show/late commuter traffic. I realized then it would likely take ANOTHER hour to get to the Art Center and God only knows how much longer to park and get to our seats. Oh well, at least we had the Green Day CD with us to play in the car. You've all purchased your own copies by now, right?
The final mile sitting in the Art Center entrance lane took a solid 30 minutes. As we came up the hill on the southbound side, a couple of guys began to direct us towards an overflow parking field. At this point I made the smartest decision of the evening. As we were pulling into the field, which by the way was very wet and soon to be very muddy from the recent downpour, I realized that if I followed the line of cars I was in, we'd be trapped in a mud pit and unable to leave until all the cars parked around us had left. And as I observed several cars ahead of us slip and slide and get stuck after moving only a few yards into the field, I concluded there was no way I was going to do that. I quickly moved out of line and parked right next to the access road and just before the guard rail that would have pinned us in till mid summer. Since the parking at this point was a random free for all, no one really noticed or cared. The car that ultimately took our spot in line became immediately stuck, and then completely blocked in by the following cars. It would likely be a very long evening for them.
Assured that our future had been saved from a muddy hell, we exited the car and began the mile long hike under the Parkway to the Art Center on the northbound side. At this point it was about 8:30 and it was likely we were going to miss most of Paramore. But I was cool with everything, since there was nothing I could do about any of it and there was no reason not to have as good a time as possible. After all, I was alone with my wife, and we were at least going to see No Doubt.
After wandering through the parking lot we finally arrived at the single entrance way to the arena. We were groped by security and herded through the gate and marched up the hill. It had been a long time since I had been here and I forgot how many of the winding pathways towards the back of the arena end at nowhere. So after a few false starts, we drifted all the way to the left and found the way to the seated area. By now Paramore had been on awhile and were due to quit at any moment. I was bummed, but the little I did witness was impressive. They finished their set with Decode and the place went absolutely bonkers. Wow, can she sing.
Just as we were getting ready to head to our seats, Paramore finished and a wave of humanity charged out of the arena right towards us. We had to move to the side so as not to get run over by the mobs of folks racing to the bathroom or looking for a spot to light up. At that moment of course my wife had to pee so we moved back to the concession area and stood on line for the bathroom.
Up till this point my sweet wife had been a real trooper. But the strain of the long drive plus the rain and the crazy mob and the long line for the john pushed her over the edge. She started to give me that "I want to go home now" look. But I made it clear that we were going to see No Doubt, especially because we had worked so hard to get to this point. As she moved towards the bathroom I reminded her this wasn't the Ritz Carlton, and that she should just squat and squirt and not think about it. She wasn't amused.
While she was wading through the ladies room, I spent a few moments soaking in the scene. I was amazed at the number of young people smoking. Hadn't they heard? Maybe smoking is even cooler now that we all know how bad it is. Ahhh, rebellion. And sadly, future customers. I wandered over to the beer vendor and noticed that a 16 oz. cup of light beer was 9 bucks. Awesome. I saw a number of middle aged parents with pre teens. Would I take my 10 year old here? Maybe. The funniest sight was the hordes of lawn ticket holders absolutely covered in mud. In fact by now the whole place was a sea of mud and you had to be careful not to slip and get hurt.
The arena was a hoard of teenagers and twenty somethings filled with earnest and energy. Other than the disturbing number of tattoos, it could have easily been mistaken for a crowd from 1990. I was glad to see that not too much had changed other than the crazy prices. I loved the energy buzzing all around me and missed being able to do this more often. Those were the days.
When Mrs. Biceptz emerged from the trauma of the girls bathroom, we were finally ready to get to our seats. By now the crowd had calmed down and we could move to the seated area. It turned out that our seats were easy to get to and most of the folks in our section were well above 30 years old.
Around 9:30 No Doubt finally came on, and they put on a great show. Gwen looked and sounded fantastic and the band was tight and totally into it. Within two songs a big smile had crept onto my wife's face and she had forgotten about all the nonsense she had had to put up with to get here. Now we were finally having some fun. "She's had two kids??" My wife was amazed anyone woman that had given birth could have a flat belly like that.
At 9:45 I made the second best decision of the night. At that point I was happy that we had made it to our seats and had seen a bit of No Doubt, after missing Paramore. But I began to think about how insane it would be trying to get out of here when the show was over. The mad rush of the crowd, the traffic, the muddy field. I figured that if we left when the show actually ended, we most likely wouldn't get home until well after midnight. And the thought of dealing with the traffic just crawling to the Parkway made me ill. I looked over at Jackie who at the moment was enjoying herself and determined that if we waited to the end, it would spoil the fragile success we had achieved so far. She'd be exhausted, our neighbors would be annoyed, and I'd be very unhappy. I turned to Jackie and said, "Let's leave at 10, OK?" She was initially shocked that I would agree to, let alone want to leave a show early, but was thinking exactly along the same lines and was ready to leave whenever I wanted to.
In the good old days I would never have considered leaving any show early, save for some sort of calamity or an opportunity for sex, or if the show really sucked, and the only show I ever walked out on was in 1987 when PIL played in Asbury Park, because they sucked so badly.
With everyone focused on No Doubt it was easy to escape our seats and leave the arena. We walked through the largely empty concession area and into the dark parking lot. We saw only two other people during the long quiet walk back to the car. Were they as wise as we were? No they were just really drunk. We got to our perfectly parked car, got in, and were on the Parkway home in less than a minute. Had we waited, it would have taken at least a half hour.
On the ride home I realized that despite the craziness, the traffic, the weather, the $200 for the tickets, and ultimately seeing only about 30 minutes of the show, I somehow had had a great time. The whole experience had been a big silly adventure, but had been entertaining none the less and we laughed about all the wackiness the whole way home.
One thing I was sure of was I wasn't going to back to the Art Center anytime soon, at least for another decade.
I'd better start saving for tickets now...
posted 7/17/2009 06:14:00 PM
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