Everything is wrong with me
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
 
the Motley Crue concert: a lesson in moronocy
Last night, my roommate Brian and my friends Brendan and Joey "attended" the Motley Crue concert at Jones Beach on Long Island. I say "attended" because they didn't actually go to the concert, but rather took a boat into the waters just outside Jones Beach Theater, hoping to be rocked out.

And it didn't work. Like, at all.

This all started a year ago, when Brian and Brendan (not to be confused with Site Guy Brendan, whose apartment was actually broken into last night - I'm not sure if he's ok, but the important thing is that the website is safe) went to a Rush concert in Holmdel, New Jersey. I declined this invitation, mostly because, well, Rush sucks. However, I passed on what turned out to be a "life-altering" experience.

I forgot that music was only part of the concert experience, and when Brendan and Brian came back from that Rush concert, they were changed men. They stood in the pouring rain to watch the show, but more importantly, to watch the antics of Rush fans, who are apparently a fascinating and unique group of people. The number of private jokes spawned between the two of them combined with the number of references to the concert between them in the presence of others has got be a world-record. They hang out all the time, but every time they're in the same room, it's "Remember at the Rush concert when that dude peed himself during Neil Pert's drum solo?" or "Remember at the rush concert when Geddy Lee went off during 'The Trees' and people were so mesmerized that forty-three of them actually ascended to heaven, rat tails and all?" The point is that since then, Brian and Brendan have been feening for another ridiculous concert to go to together.

So their next big concert project was Motley Crue. The plans for this project were hatched almost as soon as the tour was announced, but this time there was an interesting twist, thanks to Brendan's cousin Joey.

Joey is a tremendous guy. He was one of the first guys I met when I moved to NYC back in the summer of '01, and he, Brendan and I had some crazy times back then, most of which I can't repeat here because Joey is now a New York City police officer. But I digress.

While on the job (sometime in the spring I think), Joey banged up his foot and has been out of work in therapy or something. So naturally, he did want anyone out of work for the summer would do: he bought a boat. Sadly, I have yet to see this boat, but I hear it's a real beauty. Nothing special, but something upon which that you could take a few ladies, liquor them up, and then say something romantic, like "You look so beautiful against the water and the moonlight" or "Your hair smells of the sea" or "TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING SHIRT RIGHT NOW OR I WILL THROW YOU OFF THIS FUCKING BOAT - NO ONE KNOWS YOU'RE HERE! BY THE TIME THEY FIND YOU, ALL THAT WILL BE LEFT IS STINK AND TEETH!"

So the plan for the Motley Crue show was this: instead of getting tickets to the show, Brendan, Brian, Joey and I would get on his boat, go out to the bay just outside of the stadium, and have some beers and listen to Crue being Crue. Sure, they've never done this before with other concerts, but this was Motley Crue, and times called for extraordinary and unique measures.

[Legal disclaimer: Joey, from the start, was to be excepted from the drinking activities. Apparently, the NYPD wouldn't be too happy about it if one of their own got a DWI for driving his boat after a Motley Crue concert. Fucking Nazis.]

Yesterday, the day of the concert, we were all set and pumped to go. I'm horrified of boats and water and fresh air, but I knew that we'd have a lot of booze, and that of course makes everything better. However, at the last minute I got railroaded at work - one of those "Sure, we've known about this for a week and a half but we'll show it to you for the first time at 2:30pm on the day before it's due, so get on it" dealies - so I couldn't go. Rage. Rage. Rage.

Turns out, not being able to go was not as bad as I thought it would be. For starters, they could not move the boat to the concert area for over an hour. From what I gathered, Joey's boat is docked by a canal. There is a small, rickety bridge over this canal. They had to go under this bridge to get to the concert. Apparently the tide was too high, so that the boat could not fit under the bridge. So the three of them sat in the boat, by the dock, for OVER an hour, eating sandwiches and drinking beer and most importantly, getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. Sorry I missed out on that.

However, they were not fazed. Eventually the tide went down and the were able to clear the bridge, by about three inches. They were psyched and off to the concert they went.

They stationed the boat as closely as they possibly could to the arena. Apparently, they didn't miss any of the concert, as they didn't hear anything coming out of the open/outdoor arena of Jones Beach. So they kept listening to the radio and drinking beers, carrying on and having fun. They one of them realized it was getting late and turned down the radio to make sure that the concert hadn't started. They heard off in the distance, a faint muffling of sound and the muted cheers of fans. The concert had started. And they could barely hear it. Sweet.

From what I learned, the next two to three hours were spent hanging out on the boat. The three of them did a lot of things - drink beer, smoke cigarettes, piss off the side of the boat - but what they most certainly did NOT do was rock out to The Crue. On land a few thousand metal heads were having the time of their lives, while these three morons were out to sea (literally and metaphorically).

At the end of the evening, Joey was kind enough to drive Brendan and Brian in the city where they parted ways. In retrospect, they had a good time, saying that it was fun even without actually hearing any live music. In the words of Brendan, "Who doesn't love a boat ride?"

My reaction? Suckers. Weeks spent planning this and no one thought about whether they would actually hear the music? I mean, isn't that kind of important? Instead of three guys going to a concert, getting drunk, rocking out, and gawking at the weirdos present, the evening turned into three mostly sober dudes hanging out on a boat in the middle of a bay in near-silence, with homoerotic undertones galore. Actually, I'm not sure about that "homoerotic undertones" thing, but I know these guys personally, so I wouldn't put it past them.

I'm just glad that I wasn't there. I would have been complaining like a mother fucker, which would have led to me getting all worked up, which would have led to a panic attack, which would have led me falling off the boat. Such is life.

But still, I'll make sure to tag along on their next concert "adventure". I'm going to the Journey website now to see if they posted tour dates.



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