Two weeks ago, days after calling TicketBastards to find out information on R.E.M.'s touring schedule, I received an announcement from the fan club telling me that the boys (as we Internet R.E.M. fans are fond of calling them) would be here in Portland on May 19 at Memorial Coliseum. Tickets were to go on sale nationwide on January 21. Within hours I called TicketBastards to find out my best strategy as well as get pricing information. To my amazement and delight, they reported that they were not selling tickets for this event and that I would have to contact Fastixx. I am not sure if this is because the Coliseum is simply a Fastixx venue or because the boys raised hell about TicketBastards' monopolistic tendencies. Either way, I was ecstatic not to be further stuffing Paul Allen's already full pockets (ask me if you don't know about Paul Allen).
Next I talked to a nice young lady at Fastixx who told me that tickets were priced at 43, 33 and 23 dollars with a limit of 8 tickets per person. Immediately I decided that I would be seeking the premium seating so I asked her advice on the best place to purchase tickets. She recommended one of the two Music Millennium stores.Tickets were to go on sale at 8:00 am. I decided that I wanted to be one of the first in line that Saturday morning and resolved that a 6 or 7 o'clock arrival would ensure excellent tickets.
After pondering the situation a few days, I began to consider the possibility of an all-night vigil to maximize my nearness to the stage. When Friday night rolled 'round, I had resolved to at least scope the situation later in the evening. Since I usually stay up late weekend nights anyway, this would not be unusual or out-of-the-way for me. That schedule coupled with a three hour nap early in the evening insured that a 4 am visit to Music Millennium would be no problem.
Thus, at four o'clock Saturday morning I jumped into the Honda and ventured out into the cold and lately windy Portland night. Twelve minutes later I arrived at Music Millennium to find that there were indeed several mounds of clothing and blankets that probably had people laying at the bottom of them. Deciding that I must seize the moment, I parked the Honda right in front of the lot of them, got out, smiled to the few who were awake and took a seat on the pavement at the end of the line.
After sitting there for several minutes considering my situation--bored, cold and uncomfortable--I made a mental list, hopped back into the Honda and headed home for the bare essentials. I grabbed a pair of gloves, a sleeping bag, a lawn chair, the new issue of Spin and several R.E.M. bootleg concert tapes. I was back in line by 4:30 and was happy to see that nobody else had arrived since I left. As I unloaded the car, all the veterans smiled knowingly as they thought, "Rookie!"
After a bit I found a little bit about some of the people in front of me. A total of six. The first was a young lady I shall to refer to as Hardcore. She had arrived at her hallowed position at 8 o'clock Thursday night. Yes, she waited 36 hours to get her front and center tickets. When I arrived, she was completely concealed by a mound of blankets and a sleeping bag. Surprisingly, there was no hint of any of life's other necessities in sight. No cooler. Perhaps she had sandwiches stowed somewhere. One other note: she was remarkably adept at moving about while wrapped in her zipped up sleeping bag. I guess she had lots of practice.
Next in line were the Enigmas. I dubbed them that because I know little about them--not even their arrival time. I know that it had been the previous evening, but am unsure of the exact time. They appeared to be a couple (hetero), but this was never confirmed. She had resourcefully included cards in her supply cache, which she broke out for a game of hearts during the last couple of hours. I did not hear him speak a word during the whole fiasco. The Enigmas were pretty chummy with Hardcore, but it is unclear whether they had forged their ties during the wait or whether they knew each other previously.
Fourth in line was Nearby who told me her real name which I promptly forgot. She had an apartment within a few blocks of Music Millennium (hereafter referred to as MM) which she would venture to periodically with Hardcore or the female Enigma, presumably for bathroom breaks. Nearby was, by far, the friendliest of all the front-liners. She asked me my name (and remembered it) before asking my opinion on the wisdom of having Sonic Youth as the opening act. She was also pretty tight with Hardcore and the Enigmas, but, again, I'm unclear as to their length of acquaintance. Nearby had arrived at 9 o'clock Friday night. Around bar time, I think, some drunk guy came walking by the four of them and asked what they were waiting for. When he discovered that they were waiting for R.E.M. tickets, he asked Nearby if she would buy him a pair, to which she replied, "Yes." He left for cash and returned minutes later with $100 and his address and phone number. More on this situation later.
Next up we have the Slackers, a lovely Generation X couple that were immediately in front of me. I spent most of my conversation time with them and Nearby, who had apparently developed a repoire with them, too. The Slackers had apparently arrived separately, she first with her sleeping bag. When he got there, he was bewildered at the sight of five sleeping bags with no visible hint of the nature of the contents of each. He started tapping bags at the rear of the line and got lucky the first time.
Less than an hour after I arrived, the cast of characters continued to expand. The Punks were the first to arrive. There were two of them: Leader and Pauly. Leader wore a bandana, leather jacket and a goatee. Pauly reminded me greatly of Pauly Shore because of his laugh and way of talking. They had brought a significant amount of beer with them and finished it all by the time 8 o'clock rolled around. They were also fond of telling us about some sort of concoction called "the chartreuse" that was "killer." They even offered me a drink, but I had to decline. Incidentally, beer was the only thing that the Punks saw fit to bring. They spent most of the morning sitting on the cold sidewalk with no blankets or even gloves. Eventually, Leader asked and gained permission to use the part of my sleeping bag that hung over the edge of my chair. I don't think it helped him much.
Shortly after the Punks arrived, we all greeted (everybody had been roused by the Punks incessant chatter) the Hippie Wannabes. He wore a goatee, Lennon glasses and a floppy leather hat. She had no distinguishing characteristics other than her piss-poor parallel parking abilities with their Volkswagen minibus. Their three-year-old child, Max, seemed to be undaunted by the early hour or the chill in the air. His jolliness was matched only by Pauly Punk's.
After the Wannabes settled down onto the blanket they spread out on the sidewalk, Leader Punk began the long conversation that would last for the next few hours. It started with Leader asking Papa Wannabe what he paid for the minibus followed by a quick proclamation that he had been ripped off. Papa seemed undaunted and launched into a long explanation about the van's worth at which point I zoned out of the conversation. The next time I checked in, they were discussing the merits of a variety of "street rods." I joined in when Leader proclaimed that a car could NOT come stock with 400 horsepower. Surely, one would need to bore it and stroke it before it would be that powerful. Sorely tempted to comment, I once again veered from the conversation but not before noting the smirk on Mr. Slacker's face. Awhile later, the conversation had turned to handguns, at which point the Slackers and I broke into belly laughs.
And so it went for most of the morning. Pauly and/or Leader would leave occasionally to get another beer. Papa Wannabe had some sort of concoction he would mix occasionally and even the Slackers had brought along a bottle of champagne to help alleviate the effects of the cold night air. Eventually, Papa Wannabe turned on the radio in the minibus and we listened to a lame hard rock station until Mama Wannabe changed the station to a local alternative, albeit AM, station. Reception was poor and volume was inadequate, so Mr. Slacker jumped into his car (which he had moved in front of my car after my first arrival) and turned on his more than adequate stereo. After listening to the intermidable disco mix of "Tainted Love" for much too long, I mentioned that I had brought along a number of bootlegs. if anybody was interested. Ms. Slacker was delighted at the prospect and so we listened to a 1989 concert from the Green World Tour. Ms. Enigma, Hardcore, Ms. Slacker and Nearby were all quite impressed with the sound quality of the tape and wanted to know how one got a hold of such things. I explained the Internet trading practices and I heard Ms. Enigma say to Mr. Enigma that they should start using their account. Also notable is that when the boys started playing "Swan Swan Hummingbird" Pauly Punk was extremely vocal about the fact that he hated that song. This, as well as his constant pleas to Leader Punk to go "crank up some Nine Inch," said much about how much of an R.E.M. fan he was. I doubted he had heard a single song from Murmur.
We did not, however, have enough time to listen to the whole tape because Mr. Music Millenium Proprietor came out to tell us how things would work in relation to buying tickets and that we could enter the store in small groups for hot coffee if we liked. Pauly, by this time completely snockered and not able to finish a sentence, said, "Coffee?" Ooops. I guess that's a sentence.
And so the seven of us (no Punks!) were allowed to enter the store and climb the stairs to the much awaited Fastixx counter. Again, while waiting, we were given the rundown and were also allowed to give "advance orders"--number of tickets and method of payment--in order to facillitate the process for everyone concerned. While this was occuring, the Punks had managed to make their way up the stairs and stood in the doorway to the room. The ticket counter was right by the door and the line went away from the door to the back of the room. Thus, Leader and Pauly were standing near the front of the line causing Nearby much consternation over the possibility of them jumping in line. I reassured her that nobody would let that happen, but she seemed to take little comfort in my words. When Pauly began making his way to the back of the line, Leader quickly called him back to the door to whisper something to him, to which Pauly slurred, "Dude, the line's back here." Reluctantly, Leader made his way to the back of the line and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
The fun had just begun with Pauly and Leader, though. After Pauly asked everyone if they would be purchasing the $43 tickets (no, I waited all night for ear-bleeder tickets), the clerk attempted to get their advance order info, Pauly could barely elucidate for them his method of payment and was slow to understand their need for a driver license and check guarantee card. At this point, I became very grateful to not be behind Pauly since it was more than obvious that he would be unable to write a check in any reasonable amount of time. What's more, to the shock of all of us, Leader had begun to have second thoughts about even buying a ticket since, he said, he probably wouldn't have enough money for rent. First he backed out when Pauly placed his order and then minutes later decided against shelter in favor of R.E.M. I sensed that he was probably going to stiff Pauly for the price of the tickets.
A few minutes before eight, Nearby started worrying about the consequences of being seated next to a drunk who would give $100 to a stranger on the street. She asked Mr. Slacker (who was not buying tickets) if he would purchase the stranger's two tickets, but I quickly jumped in to say that I would purchase the extra tickets for her. The idea of waiting for an extra transaction was simply too unbearable to deal with and I was relieved when Nearby handed over the cash and thanked me. I think that my friends Vlady and Mike will probably be getting the seats next to the drunk stranger. :)
Finally, eight o'clock rolled around and the tickets began to roll. After things got going, I lost track of everyone except Nearby who wanted "her" change back. I was a bit intoxicated by the purchase, so I did not question when she said the two tickets cost $86. Later, I figured out that she had stiffed me for the service charge (four bucks).
I stumbled out of the store, packed the sleeping bag and chair in the trunk and headed off to McDonald's for a victory breakfast (Mr. Wait-all-night-for-R.E.M.). Here's a rough sketch of where our seats are: