Wet, Wild and Headbanger

Slayer Concert-9838.jpg


Not something you think about when you are in traffic waiting or the light to turn green.  Is it something you become once you look in your mirror and see blue and red lights?  Or the word you choose when you have been given a warning.  For me, I tend to be a lot more colourful when I get pulled over, only to have that inner voice tell you to be calm.  Speeding, running stop signs or generally being a time bandit will relieve you of some of your hard earned wad.  To the general public, that is to say everyone, of course, when the day comes (and it will), Johnny Alpha Male will spring out his chest, adjust his belt, push up his ray bans and slowly, but surely utter those three dreaded words.  Adjectives you have been describing to yourself have now moved into the Noun phase.  The time it took you to go from, I’m in a hurry has been replaced by, you muttering to yourself. “Sure Officer, take your sweet ass time, I’ve got all day”.

Once you have gladly thanked the 5-0, you think to yourself, now do I pull away slowly, or spray gravel all over the side of the “To Protect and serve” decal.  Of course you’re mad, upset, your day is ruined.  But is it.  Well, as long as you were polite, calm, well-mannered and apologetic, you might just get a break once you get your day in court.  Unless you just decide to forget all about it.  Either way it’s up to you.  Frankly I don’t care what you do.  This is what I was thinking when were at the Slayer concert last night, well just the last part.  I don’t care who you are, what you do, how much you drink, smoke, or inhale.  It’s your life, how you deal with conflict is all about how you perceive foe. 

When four of Fort McMurray’s finest sautéed into the area, game faces set to stern, I thought to myself, let’s see how the crowd reacts?  To cut a long story short, mainly because I don’t have one, nothing happened and they left.   That was it, no arrests, no pepper spray nothing.  So I presume they went back to Timmie’s and waited for their radios to crackle. 

So, with that let’s talk about why we came here in the first place.  It wasn’t the weather, the Sun had been in a disagreeable mood all day and decided to hide behind the rainclouds.  When it comes to thrashmetal, no one seems to care, I’m sure the sound engineers had their work cut out for them, but the long haired two finger waving assembly could like me, not care less.  They wanted noise, vocals you cannot understand and booze.  This is not something you find at a Ken and Dolly redeux.  I have to say when you are standing in the pit with 2000+ screaming wet fans at your side, you wonder how long it will be before you need to see an Otolaryngologist.  Funny thing is you don’t care.  They just want Loud, louder.  So loud your Kidneys start to fail. 

Well we got our 3 minutes of fame, ok we got to stand in a place where you don’t turn into apple sauce and take some pictures of four 50 something dudes doing what their parents had told them not too.  It was awesome. 

Obnoxious, Yes.  Angry Yes.  Gentle, No.  Insert your own Adjective Here.

If music be the food of Love, just turn it up to 450 decibels, then play on.

Monster Truck

If they put out a ballot at the entrance with 2 boxes, one marked "too loud!", the other, "louder please!". I would be in the minority. It was a heavy rock concert after all, so what was I doing there?  A middle aged wrinkled face who preferred a chilled glass and Tony Bennett in the backdrop.  Well we invited ourselves so it would be impolite not to go.  I have to be honest it was a pretty good event.  When I was 19 I got a little beer paying job working at the saddledome. I worked for some obscure little unknown security firm.  That itself wasn't interesting, but the job of working in the pit and backstage has it's own merits.  Well free concerts really.   Rod Stewart, glass tiger, ACDC. Iron Maiden, Whitesnake, Def Leopard and well, yes. Kenny Rogers. These were just a few.  Oddly enough, no one rushed the stage when Kenny walked on.  

My good friend at the time was working back stage, checking to make sure everyone had the proper accreditation. If your the lead singer however, you are exempt from wearing the coveted pass.  Least, those of platinum Blonde thought so.  My trusted friend did what he was told to do and the lead was promptly thrown out on his ear and that was the end of that.  Of course 20 minutes roll by and he notices people running around like headless chickens.  It wasn't until someone asked him, "have you seen Mark?".  "Who????"  Well the lead singer was pounding on the exit door to no avail.  That was until he said " what? this guy!". Opening the door.   He was bemused and my friend received many shoutings.  He was after all, doing what $7 an hour got you back then. The whole show was about to come crashing down.  All because he thought he was better than everyone else.  So. Lead singers of the world.   Wear your badges! 

If you want peace and quiet, go find some little home grown Italian diner and enjoy the ambience. If you want to ruin your kidneys. Go to the ballroom at Macewan Hall on the university grounds. Stand by the huge speakers and wait for the lyrics.  

Big hair was back.  Guitars wailed out tunes, the leads of both bands were howling at the moon, probably loud enough to wake up Scott Kelly.  The fans were getting more and more jumpy upy. Then as the intermission ran its course, those lucky enough to sneak a bit of Ganga through security were enjoying their "puff puff pass" on the patio.  After all. It's a rock concert.  The mind altering effects were taking full effect as more and more were leaning more than they normally do.  It's always funny to see fans air guitar.  I thought that died off in the 80's. Well it's still here; alive and kicking.  I didn't understand the song words, but people were singing along.  I thought you only did that at when Michael Bublé showed up.  

The "pit" was their in full security mode. The part I love, is knowing I can stand between the crowd and the stage and get up close to the action. I saw a sign that read. "NEXT TIME YOUR OUT!" I gather this is for the yellow jackets who don't have to open their limited word vocabulary.  It's all there, In black and white.  So presumably, if you lark about, you get these 4 pre written words yelled at you.   Not sure what happens next?

Panties were being thrown too, I guess that's better than beer cans.  I'm not sure why someone would throw away a good pair of underwear.  It's not like they know where they came from.  But then again, this isn't a place to bring your granny out.  This is for demons.  This is fuelled by hairy chested Jean cut offs.  So if you do see a ballot box and you drop your slip in the "too loud" box.  Go home, you're not welcome.  To the rest; Play on and play it loud!

Heath Cox. Editor. Intouch.news