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Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Don't eat the brown acid
Posted by Wade Tatangelo on Wed, Jul 18, 2007 at 9:32 PM
Just in time for the Warped tour: Things not to do at all-day, outdoor summer concerts
Published 07.18.2007
http://tampa.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=271552
Despite all the common-sense evidence stacked against them, all-day outdoor concerts in Florida still exist -- and people still attend them. The older you get, the idea of joining 20,000 people in a shadeless field on a sunny, muggy July day becomes more and more incomprehensible.
Now I'm not here to advise against attending something like the upcoming Warped Tour in St. Pete. You're gonna go if you're gonna go -- and no amount of cautionary tales will stand in your way.
But as a public service, I've compiled a list of "don'ts" -- gleaned mostly from firsthand knowledge -- that should help make the all-day, outdoor summer concert experience a bit more bearable and less likely to land you in jail, the hospital or both.
Don't Jump in the Bay
At Warped Tour's 2004 stop at Vinoy Park, lines were stupid long -- with one queue to buy a coupon, another to actually trade it in for beer/water. Pasty-faced teens decked out in black everything (see: Don't Wear Goth Gear) got so hot they resorted to jumping into the bay in droves. It wasn't a pretty scene -- these kids looked like cats dropped in a pool. Especially when they mistook some dolphins swimming past for ... SHARKS!
Don't Eat the Brown Acid
I've got this buddy, we'll call him "Willie," who took his girlfriend to Livestock back in '97 because she was a huge Motley Crüe fan. Well, Willie wanted to impress his sweet little drug-craving gal, so he bought some blotter acid from a longhaired stranger shortly after arriving at the show that was held way the hell up in the wasteland known as Zephyrhills. Willie and his girl put the tabs under their tongues, and the next thing they knew, they were in the car driving away from the giant flies that were trying to eat them whole. Willie and his woman ended driving until the road ended at Treasure Island, where Willie dropped $200 on a hotel room at 4 a.m. He spent the evening on the beach climbing the imaginary sand dunes that he called "the white cliffs of Dover." Willie and his gal broke up several days later when they finally came down. Moral of the story? Do I really need to spell it out?
Don't be a Blanket Nazi
Outdoor concerts with unreserved seating always solicit assholes that lay down the comforter from their king-sized bed right smack in front of the stage and then get mad when I step on it every time I go to buy a beer or take a piss -- two activities that eat up a lot of my time during all-day rock concerts. Look, stake your claim away from the stage, away from the walking lanes, away from the folks who actually came to see the musicians perform -- we are generally heavy drinkers and frequent pissers. Speaking of frequent pissers ...
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