(See what I did there?)
Coming home silly with my buddy Danny was fun all year long. Trudging our way to McMasters Street, stumbling along at 2am, discussing some nonsense was awesome. And often times we'd end up on the couch, listening to music and talking. And then the offer for Phish would come up. Honestly, it just wasn't for me. Too much going on, too much that just didn't make sense. It seemed like too many sounds, too many weird instruments, too much happening that couldn't be happening all at once. Certainly one impossible thing.
But this year taught me not to dismiss something I haven't tried, so yesterday I set out to try it. Picked up at 2pm by friends from my home in my 2nd least favorite state (only better than the Dakota that doesn't have Mount Rushmore), we began our trip. Hours later, we were meeting up with friends I thought I had already said goodbye to for the last time for a year, but here they were again. A miracle occurring as Mr. Steiner arrives without a ticket to a sold out show, where two hundred fans walk the venue, fingers up offering 5 times face value for a last minute ticket for every one shrewd business man looking to sell one. And an hour after I had given up faith, the great Steiner returns, $40 ticket in hand. Certainly another impossible thing.
And the show began. Standing along side close friends, both heavy enthusiasts and first time attendees, everything seemed right. And it wasn't just great music. It was a perfect event. Energy flowed through the crowd like a spark through a people connected by copper wire. The music emphasized by four professionals playing separately so well that it seemed to be one instrument. The crowd, 20 thousand people dancing in a frenzy so ubiquitously wild and individual that it seemed to be a single wave pulsating through a single body, reflecting the swings of the music.
I know Derek, Coop, and I had a blast. Team Phish.
"Thought I could get you to come to Yarmouth Road. Play with the bees and buzz in the honeycombs."
-Yarmouth Road, Phish
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