Snapped a few pictures but I suspect the results will be less than stellar. The camera is a cool concept but delivers some crappy pictures most of the time.Arrived about 15 minutes ago. Brought lawn chair, sleeping bag, work gloves, Newton (with keyboard), lip balm, digital camera and bag with normal stuff (cell phone, credit cards, cash, modem, etc.). Stopped for $50 at ATM on the way.
Upon arrival it appeared that two people were in line but just using chairs to placehold. They're sleeping in their cars. At least one raised his head long enough to confirm that I was not jumping in front of them as I placed my sleeping bag and chair in line before returning to the warmth of the truck.
Ran across the street to the Laurelhurst Market to drop 70 cents in the soda machine, but it's not taking money this morning. I really needed something hot anyway.
Preparation consisted of setting my alarm for three and going to bed at 11. I refered to my earlier work on the REM story for the list of essentials since I was rather bleary-eyed at first. And anxious to get underway.
As I rounded the corner from 39th onto Burnside, I thought that I would be really disappointed if the line stretched for a block or more. It didn't. Evidently Pearl Jam fans aren't as fanatic as REM fans. Or maybe they're smart and join the fan club where they can get good deals on good seats. Or so I have heard.
4:19 am
Thirsty and hungry but quite warm in the truck. If and when I have to man my position, it is not raining yet but has recently. But I guess you could say that anytime but summer in Portland.
The guy ahead of me stirred a bit but his windows are so fogged it's impossible to tell if he's awake or not. He likes the Refreshments, Sister Hazel and KNRK (the local alternative station) and has the bumper stickers to prove it. Cars drive by occasionally setting off the motion sensor lights at the Laurelhurst Market.
Snapped a few pictures but I suspect the results will be less than stellar. The camera is a cool concept but delivers some crappy pictures most of the time.
As the sound of an airplane cuts through the darkness, I spot movement on the corner. Some kid with a backpack crossing the street. Evidently not a Pearl Jam fan but what the hell is he doing up at this hour? What the hell am I doing up at this hour? Tickets go on sale at 8:00 but I suspect that they'll open the store for us a little bit prior to that. Last time they had hot refreshments for us.
I wonder what time the Laurelhurst Market opens as a man walks across the street. He's black. (Is it racist to mention that? Yes.) Probably not until 6 I'm guessing. The motion sensors continue to turn the lights on and off, seemingly for no reason at times. My motion detector is equally sensitive. There are light poles in front and back of me with concert flyers stapled on. One of the flyers hangs on by a thread as the wind whips it about. It causes me to look up to investigate from time to time. However, I can no longer see the pole behind me because my rear window is getting pretty fogged up. I can see it in passenger side mirror, but side mirrors aren't a part of my normal sensory intake.
I think briefly about asphyxiation. Last fall when we were camping in California, Tina and Thomas ended up sleeping in the back of her uncle's Land Rover. I stayed up most of the night talking to friends who at one point mentioned that new cars are sealed so well that sleeping in them can be dangerous. They convinced me to crack a window. Tina was pissed bacause I woke her. The guy in front of me has a Tempo GL of recent vintage. How long would it take to run out of oxygen in a Tempo? The other guy has an old muscle car which I doubt would be a danger. It is also fogged quite a bit less.
4:50 am
It has started to sprinkle a bit. A bird chirps madly in the dark. I'm glad I'm inside. Does he think that bitching will make it stop?
We have an Easter party to attend at 11 later this morning so I'll have to try to grab a few hours between 9 and 10. Or maybe just an hour. Or maybe not at all. Maybe tonight.
I roll down the window to find the source of the machinery hum that pervades the morning darkness. It seems to be the ice machine at Laurelhurst Market across the street. It shuts off and I notice how good the morning air smells and feels. Makes me glad I left southern California.
The bird seems to have a method to his madness. He chirps three times and is answered by another bird with a single, weak chirp. I couldn't hear the second bird with the window up. I also note the sound of something flapping in the wind near one of the houses across the street. The cigarette sign at the Laurelhurst Market rotates gently in the breeze emitting a barely audible squeak. The ice machine is back on and I'm getting cold. Time to roll up the window and fire up the engine.
5:30 am
The muscle car guy fired up his engine causing the Tempo guy to stir a bit. I wonder what they brought for entertainment. Maybe the thought never occured to them or perhaps they thought they could sleep through most of it. I'm tempted to do that but fear losing my place in line. I'm not really that tired anyway. Once I'm awake, I'll be up for hours before I can sleep again. Maybe I'll sleep on the way home from the party in Washougal which is about an hour away.
Still no signs of life at the Laurelhurst Market. If nobody is there in 15 minutes, the chances of a 6:00 opening seem slim. I spot an airplane flying south from the airport which is odd since the main runways go east and west. Perhaps they're using the alternate (crosswind) runway this morning.
5:43 am
Just completed an abortive attempt at sleep. Bench seats don't work well for that especially with the seat belt buckles sticking right in your back. Just before I was ready to try it sideways, somebody pulled in behind me. Two young adult males in a Jimmy. They are eating and drinking. Bastards! A lonesome train whistle sounds out. The Jimmy's have killed the engine. They have made no effort to establish a presence in "the line". It's really metaphorical anyway, isn't it?
5:54 am
The guys in the Tempo have exited the car. I talk to one briefly. He's been here since 8:00 the previous night. He says the muscle car guy has been here since 8:00 am Friday. Tempo number one is headed to Starbucks. Tempo number two says he's gonna try to catch 15 more minutes of sleep.
In the meantime, a carless entry has joined the game. Everybody watches nervously as he strolls up to the front door and gazes at the chairs there. He walks back behind my chair and stands there. I get out and ask him if he would like to sit in the truck. He says "Maybe in a while." He's got a hooded winter coat on but he looks cold. He amuses himself by reading all the promo material in the window. He has that long, tangled hair that Eddie Vedder used to favor. Here he comes...
6:15 am
 |
The party has moved outside. Everybody is taking their place in line in anticipation of the impending rush. It's cold. |
Had a semi-interesting conversation with carless boy. It's his first Pearl Jam concert. First time buying tickets here. Second concert at the Rose Garden (first was the Stones). He smells like sandwich meat and, consequently, so does my truck now. He's going to see Phish three days before PJ.
6:30 am
It's getting lighter outside. The Jimmy's are reading the paper and talking about gambling addicts. The Tempos are going to try Starbucks again. It must not have been open the first time.
A Music Millenium chick arrived at about 6:00 but hasn't opened the store yet. She's in there playing some dance music crap. All drums and synths. No guitars. Doesn't she know she's got a Pearl Jam crowd out here?
A homeless guy with a beard and shopping cart is meandering down the street across from us. He's sucking on a cigarette and asking us for cans. He's got a sleeping bag where I put the cat litter. The disco beat goes on...
6:56 am
All guys, no girls. And we're talking real men here that read the sports page and talk about golf. It's begun raining, albeit lightly, so I'll be limited in writing. The muscle car is a Mustang. It's a Shelby. I personally don't like the Shelby's. He regails me with his past exploits at waiting in line. Evidently the Page-Plant tour was the best to wait in line for.
Prologue: 11:30 pm
The rain picked up and I had no chance for further entries. Eventually, the Music Millenium chick came out and took our names, number of tickets and payment method. The list was eventually used to generate the ticket orders.
Muscle car guy got two floor tickets in the 17th row and two in the 18th. The guys behind him (Tempo guys) did not get floor seats and one was pretty upset. So upset in fact that he traded his section 101 tickets and $50 to muscle car guy for his 18th row tickets. So muscle car guy goes to the show for free. That works out to $2 per hour for the 24 hours he spent waiting.
Me? I got section 8. That's the bleacher section on the opposite end of the floor from the stage. Not great but not ear-bleeders.
The Laurelhurst Market never opened and nobody served hot beverages. I didn't get home from the party until 4 or 5 and fell asleep shortly after. Now I'll be up until the early hours of the morning. Hope I can fix my schedule by Monday morning.