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Tuesday, August 10, 2004

(As posted in my other journal) Well I don't have a fever, but I think I have inhailed too much bronze. So I have a sore throat and am exhausted from our last few days of work. We did finish the sculpture though, so it will be viewable in Merriweather Post Pavilion after Monday or on my website as I figure I will get to updating Cole Journal sometime soon. So tonight I have my halls cough drops, honey maid applecinnamon sticks and plenty of beer to watch movies and take it easy and catch up on the past few days, more specifically, "Warped Tour, An Adventure on the Scale of Lord of the Rings." As any good story should start, once upon a time, this one doesn't. This adventure started for me sometime a few months ago when I wandered into Herndon's Friday Night Live on a tip that it would be a good time. It wasn't a bad time, and the Budwiser sponsor definately helped the situation. The town green was covered with little kids and their parents listening to safe music while the mini-parents were running around playing tag and throwing balls. It was a mission to pass without getting hit by the halflings, but stepping over wasn't too big a deal. After dark, they mostly cleared out so that the drunker hoodlems decided to move closer to the stage. Somewhere along the line I passed by the DC 101 both and droped my name in their bucket and picked up a CD of Elliot in the Morning music recordings just to be thrown asside when I return home. After such an exciting night I move over to the local bar. I have become sort of a regular at the place, knocked back a few, played some pool, was warned about the police checkpoints and where they were. It was a fun different drive back home that night. A few days later, I get a call on my way home from a long ass day of work. "Is this Josh Yavelberg" "Yes it is" "This is (insert girl's name) from DC 101 calling to inform you that you won tickets to Warped Tour" "Wow... great... unexpected... who's playing?" "Hell if I know, you can pick them up at the station." So a few weeks later I get the time after work to head up to Rockville, MD in order to pick up the tickets. I would go into detail, but the whole experience was not very exciting except for the pinball machine in the lobby. And Rockville was a very uninteresting part of town with a lot of traffic. Fast forward. I bring the tickets up to the light so that the date would become legible. The all day show is on a Wednesday in August. The problems become clear the all day event would be held on a Wednesday. The evil plan becomes clear. The dark forces wanted me to attend a event that would be filled with posing beings just larger than halflings but not yet the size of full adults. Teenagers that would zoom around and look very tempting just to piss me off because it would be against ethics and law to get close to them. I needed a fellowship to avoid such dangers. Most of my friends were going to be working as they had full time jobs. Who was to help me with such a burden? I asked everyone, but all with the same result. I finally decide with one week left that there was no way to get out of this and I had to let go of the extra ticket. So I did what the noble thing and I put it up on LJ as a free give-away. I got two desperate people right off the bat. The first was the obvious winner and was an obvious flake as we exchanged messages back and forth with no resolution as to how she wanted to pick the tickets up. I guess she thought of me as an interent stalker who would rape and/or kill her if we met. So, its Tuesday, the day before the big event and I still don't have a definate on the other ticket. Would anyone step up to the challenge of heading into teenage infested crowds? I posted once more and to someone I thought would have free time that day... Mearth . (A good solid adventure name.) Mearth thus joins OpiusRex on a quest of utmost importance, to go into the bowels of teenage infested concert and deliver the tickets to the vendors and find the beer to help cope with all dangers that it may entail. It's now Wednesday morning. I pick up Mearth on an easy trip and head for the forwarned traffic of 66 west. And we fell into it a few miles before our exit. We were stuck behind the "Big Truck" and in front of coke snorting punks. But the conversation was delightful and got us through the tough times towards our destination, the ticket takers. We find the parking lot and head for the entrance. We see a line of teenagers in the distance, "Is that a line to get in?" Mearth asks. "I hope not, maybe it is for tickets, I don't think it is sold out." We lucily pass through the line undetected by the rabid teens waiting in line forever in the hot sun, tickets still in hand. We then are faced with "The Searchers." The searchers were not forgiving as we decided to bring a bag with extra goodies such as a blanket, frisbee, water... And of course we had to return across the desert-like parking lot to the car to put the items back to return to the searchers without any items not allowed in an event differing from other events at the venue. We finally accomplish our mission of returning the tickets to their source, but it seemed that the problems were only half over. Thus begins The Warped Tour, Quest for Beer. Warped Tour, Quest for Beer will be added later as it is late and time to return to beer drinking and snack eating. ...................................... So now it is time to finish the adventure... "Warped Tour, The Quest for Beer" We entered into Nissan Pavilion faced by the obvious, Nissans. Several cars and sponsors were crowded around the enterance way. Three radio stations (all probably owned by the evil, dark Clear Channel Radio) were pushing their advertising merchendise on the teenagers as they buzzed in every direction. The whole area was quite confusing, but we could hear music off in the distance so Mearth and I headed to the sound. The large grass hill was closed off so the path led to two main stages that had been errected in the parking area on top of gravel. Dust was everywhere, kicked up by the boots and sneakers of trendy pre-frosh as they scooted from vendor to vendor to spend their parents money on crap. We passed by the "reverse day-care center" where parents were dropped off by their kids in a tent cared for by younger supervision. They all looked so unhappy as they lacked any real alcoholic nourishment. We wandered the path passing by several giants, inflated for everyone's amusement, guarding activities that were free for all. I actually liked these giants with their mohawks, but I wasn't about to partake in their fun without a few beverages in me, and Mearth quickly agreed. The buzzing was becoming overwhemimg, the heat was scorching, and there was no way to blend in as we were obviously on the older side. It was this last fact that snapped my attention to the fact that alcohol was not within any viewing radius. Panic nearly set in. Before I was about to grab the nearest halfling and shake the information out of them, Mearth and I decided to make it a quest, to find the beer at a mostly underage event. We decided there had to be beer, and it must be sold at the concessions, but where? We wandered to the first vendor, only bottled water. There was Winterfresh gum, slim jims, and probably some edible underwear lying around, but no site of a vendor that was serving alcohol, and the giants just mocked us at this point. They knew where it was, they could see over everyone to the destination, but their inflatable lips just smiled and didn't give up the secret. We ventured past the second giant closer to the pavilion stage where there were bathrooms, and permanent consession stands, but the taps were dry and the cashiers had no clue if there was any beer at this event. Our hopes began diminishing. We waded through the mini punks to the other concessions that had a sign for frozen margaritas, a tempting sight as the sun was beginning to wear us down, but the sign was mearly a mirage, taunting us to a product that didn't exist. All hope seemed lost, what were we to do. If there was no beer here I don't think I would be able to continue the length of the concert with jail-bait running all around me. We happend upon an ancient, someone nearly our age, but seemingly old enough to drink, thinking they may have a clue to lead us to our much needed refreshments. The ancient pointed back to the enterance. We thought it was all over, we would have to leave to get drunk. The ancient then clarified that it was by the enterance, there would be a tent, and in that tent would be the oaisis that we saught. We were saved. We pushed through the crowds, the weight of the sun bearing down on my like never before, the sweat of every passer by pulling me down. Mearth reached back and grabbed my hand so that I wouldn't be overtaken by the sweaty munchkins and pulled me through as we made our way back to where we started. We reached the entrance, the tent was nowhere to be seen. A mirror image of the concessions from the other side of the pavilion lay waiting for our money but no beer was for sale. Was it invisible, could it only be conjoured by those who were most in need, was it just another mirage? Then we finally saw the tent. Rising behind the concessions and tucked away down an allyway guarded by Clear Channel henchmen stopping the youngsters from getting near. We were saved. We entered cautiously to find one beer vender with two taps, Budwiser and Miller Lite both at $7.50 a cup. The prices were outragous to be sure, but when in need... We now knew our plight to be different. We wouldn't have enough money to get to our much desired inebreated state. We did become aware that many in the tent had already ventured to that state and were becoming louder with every sip. Donnielle from DC 101 came in shortly after and riled the drunks up even more. We could either deal with people much more drunk than us or head back out into the concert. We had two beers each and decided to headed back out until we could gather more money. We stopped by the first grinning punk giant and decided to give a go at his maze. An extremely small rugrat was scurrying around the maze like it was his only mission in life. Mearth decided to give it a go first against the little creature, only to fail miserably at beating the little thing. She did finish, and managed not to sustain further injury to her already injured neck. I, on the other hand, took on a teenager who seemed determined to beat me. I too have had a recent injury to my knee and was wondering how fast I could manuver around the obstacles the maze contained. I pulled through with only one fall flat on my face to dive by and tie the opposition. We needed more beer. It was now a search for the ATM. With all the vendors scattered about, this place was certain to have an ATM. Even little kids with no jobs know how to spend their parents money by the truckload. We again took the direction of the main pavilion figuring it had to be close to the permanent vendors. I don't like asking for directions, like any normal guy, so it took a few minutes of us swooping around like vulchers before Mearth pulled aside and asked a worker picking up the garbage. The worker pointed us in the direction of lemonade, which we wouldn't have minded, but we wanted beer. He said that it was beside the lemonade stand, and we headed off. A few minutes later and we were dragging ourselves back to the beer tent to drink our overpriced beers. After waiting in a long line behind nasty people spitting tobacco. We got two more beers each and decided not to wait in the 15 min. line again for more, and hung out in the shade avoiding the teenagers still trying to get into the tent. We thought we were safe, but every so often we found one breaking through to talk to a friend or parent who had been trying to avoid them alltogether. The rest of the event consisted of a lot of wandering and becoming drenched in other people's sweat. We watched skateboarders on the half pipe doing tricks, little girls flying through the air as they crowd surfed, and a couple of good bands playing the songs that are always heard on the radio. I had come to see Flogging Molly and I wasn't leaving until I had at least one run at pushing around the little ones in a pit. So we stayed until such a point. We were standing in the middle of the crowd waiting for Flogging Molly to start, and when they did, the chaos opened all around us. I was able to move Mearth out of the way as I began pushing my way in the mosh pit to good old Irish punk rock. We decided to leave at this point and head home after the countless hours of dealing with little people buzzing around in the hot sun. No sooner do we leave than the thunderstorms set in turning the whole event into a giant mud puddle. We left just in time. Thus endith the adventure of Warped Tour (sponsored by Vans)

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