Tag: Concerts

#Milestones: That First #Concert

My soon to be #sweetsixteener hit me up for a #birthday gift. Three months ahead of time. Important items of discussion typically happen at the #lastpossibleminute, but here we are. On the bright side, her skills are improving-ish? Not only does she ask me three months and a week in advance, she does so during my afternoon walk. Via #text. Can Novio Boy tag along? Oh, and it’s in San Antonio. #minordetails

The door hasn’t even shut behind me when I walk in and she #hollers “Ma-a-a-h-m…did you get my message?” She emerges at the top of the stairs. Then she hops down. Must be important.

“Okay, #hearmeout…”

I stop and let her flow.

“…there’s this concert, you’ll hate the music, but maybe not?”

My questions addressing all of the things she hasn’t considered, never mind she described it as a midwestern emo band (what is that?), are rising to the top and bubbling. I have to turn down the heat so they don’t spill over.

Tickets are cheap. #redflag. They’ll hit you with #fees. It’s at 9:00 in the morning. #weird and #anotherreadflag. Can Novio Boy come along? #redflagandsirens. It’s at a place called Paper Tiger.

I look it up. It looks like a #divebar #ohhellno

I don’t say yes. I don’t say no. #researchmode. I can’t find it on the ticket apps I use.

“But I got the link to buy tickets on #spotify!” her two-year-old self peeks out for a few seconds before she stuffs her back deep inside.

“Hold on, I’m looking.” Dallas, Houston, L.A. …”Oh, I see, there’s the fine print, TBA, so even if it says 9:00 a.m, they may still be in the planning stages. Listen. This isn’t a big venue. If it was at the Alamodome, it would be different. I have to check out this Paper Tiger place. It sounds like a bar near St. Mary’s campus. If it’s a bar, you have to be over 21 to get in.”

“But how is it that I can buy a ticket if…”

“The same way you opened up your Instagram and Snapchat accounts that you aren’t supposed to have. Guaranteed, if it’s a bar, they’ll check your ID to get in.”

“But even if I have tickets?”

“Chica, you first have to be 21. Give me time to check it out. Have you looked at the venue?”

“What’s that?”

#sigh

It appears minors must be accompanied by an adult. There is a bar #yayme It’s small and frequently hosts live bands. Reviews are positive. I know nothing about the band. #lighbulbmoment

My #livemusicguru friend! I send her a message asking about the venue. Yes, she has been there and enjoyed it. Yes, it’s safe for teens, but it’s best to go with her. There are restaurants and other bars within walking distance.

“Can I pay you to take her?”

“Lol! If it’s a band I like I’ll go with you.”

It’s still a little early and I’m not ready to purchase tickets. There may be a music festival going on which explains the 9:00 a.m. show. I feel #awkward tagging along, but I also don’t want to leave her there without being on the premises. I promise I’ll hide in the back somewhere.

Why is it that an adult can take their kids to most places, but if teens take parents, are they #weirdos or do they have #coolparents?

If we do go, what in the world do I #wear?

March 13, 2025

The Real Thing: U2@Sphere-Las Vegas

Well my heart is where it's always been
my head is somewhere in between...

My body and brain are ready to take on customer service reps. I send a message to confirm availability for a Saturday pick up from the airport. Step one, done. I check concert ticket availability. I call the airline and it’s an easy switch. I’m leaving too early on Saturday, but I can nap on the way home.

I check several ticket apps, steering clear of the one I used. Final step: acquire a concert ticket. Finding one seat, I make the purchase. At this point, I’ve already lost money. You’re in Vegas, I tell myself through gritted teeth, keep at it. You’ll hit the jackpot soon enough.

Check email. Accept the ticket. Hold my breath…

There it is, the part that was missing from the last fiasco. Immediately directed to my ticket app, I follow the link to open the app and tap. There’s my ticket. I now have the option to add it to my phone’s wallet. I take the option so I’m not searching through a barrage of emails. I re-open the ticket app to make sure it’s there.

Yes.

I re-open my phone’s wallet to make sure it’s there too.

Affirmative.

One more try. I’ll be going alone this time and I’ll have to take an Uber, but I’m all set. I’ve never used Uber. I’ll download the app later.

Today, we’re having a late breakfast, hanging out at my uncle’s place, roaming around the art district, and checking out The Neon Museum. Tomorrow I’m going to the concert of my life. Alone. And I. Don’t. Care.

Friday morning I sleep in. My phone’s calendar reminds me of the flight I canceled. Today, I’m relaxing at my uncle’s place. I was supposed to leave today, so he went back to work. I have the place to myself and binge watch a Netflix reality show.

I’m taking an Uber to the concert. Send someone to look for me if you don’t hear back from me. You’ve heard of those crazy stories. I don’t want someone to throw me in the trunk, murder me and dump me in the desert, I message my sisters.

Don’t get in the car if you feel unsafe. You have gut feelings for a reason, they blip in return.

What do I do if there’s a glitch with the Uber? I can not have another glitch! I’ve scheduled my ride to pick me up at 6:30. Doors open at 6:00 and the concert starts at 8:30. My muscles twist themselves into tighter knots. Calm down, it’s fine. I decide to take an afternoon walk to get my mind off all of the scenarios that will prevent me from entering the mother ship once again.

I get a notification my driver has arrived. Her name is Jackie. Make eye contact and talk so you’re less likely to get murdered. I tell my brain to shut up. I enter her car and I’m greeted with a mini night sky of tiny LED lights changing from neon pink, to purple, to blue, to green, to yellow, and pink again. Whoopsies. I feel bad for thinking she’d hurt me.

Back at the orb rising out of the desert, I follow the crowd. Stopping for a selfie, I make my way up the stairs. I enter the building and get to the portal. This time, my ticket is in a different section; I don’t need escalators. My heart wants to jump out of my body. I can relax once I’m inside. Bono’s voice fills the room. The glow transports me out of this place.

Give me one more chance
and you'll be satisfied

I’m here early so there is no need to make small talk with people stuck in line. I enter the bag check point. I advance to a person with a scanner as I hold out my phone, barcode ready. 

Give me two more chances
you won't be denied...

Scan.

“Enjoy the show.”

Sixteen year old giddy me wants to SCREAM! I get in line for merch and buy an overpriced hoodie. I enter my section and gasp. Is this real? I’m sitting HERE? I’m on row 25. Not far from the stage. My non-tickets were on the back end of the highest section.

The DJ starts the pre-concert music and the crowd in the pit begins to gather. I dance at my seat and ping my sisters. I made it! You should be here with me… I dance through the rest of the show. This concert as at this venue is like the Grand Canyon. You see pictures and video, but you have no idea how the experience moves you until you see it in person.

Even better than the real thing, yeah…

Did I Ask Too Much?: U2 @ Sphere Las Vegas

Did I disappoint you? Leave a bad taste in your mouth?

Yes, yes you did, but I don’t know who to blame. A bad taste in my mouth is an understatement. I was struck dumb. Numb. Speechless. What happened? I followed all of the directions. When my tickets didn’t load to my app, I contacted the ticket company two days before the event. I didn’t yell at anyone. I didn’t get drunk. I didn’t smoke something I shouldn’t. There was no tattoo I’d later regret. No zip lining in frustration from the Stratosphere.

We walked back to the hotel stopping for a drink along the way, but I didn’t want that either. I began drafting my email to customer service while we waited to order. Later, I got into my pajamas, tossed my sparkly tank over the top of a chair, worn for four concert-less hours. New boots didn’t have time to rub blisters on my feet.

I woke up at my normal Your-Brain-Is-Now-Wide-Awake time of 3:00-ish a.m., confirming it with a groggy one-eyed peek at the red lighted digital clock. I must have slept hard, I felt the morning ready to greet me. Ahh, different time zone, remember? It’s only 1:00. We’d just be getting back had we been there.

I flop back into bed feeling around for my eye pillow. I place it over my eyes and breathe deeply. Its soothing lavender scent is long gone. My brain props itself on an elbow wanting to talk. I need sleep! It presses with questions.

Can I change my flight? Will I get my money back? I mean, I did get tickets. But they didn’t work! Is E available to pick me up from the airport? I can find someone for a ride or just get an Uber. Are there tickets for Friday’s show or are they sold out? It doesn’t hurt to try. I’m too close not to go.

With or without you…

I’m hearing Bono sing. I can’t live, with or without you…

And I can’t live without trying, Bono!

Last year I was number 3,000 something in an online queue to snag a ticket for an interview with Brene Brown after he released his autobiography. I missed that one too. Tickets sold out in less than five minutes at a venue the size of a gnat compared to Sphere.

It could work out. Try it when the world wakes up. I mother myself back to sleep. Shush my brain. Go back to sleep, you can’t do anything until later. It’s fine. Weren’t you okay with not going in the first place?

Well, yeah, but that was before I bought tickets.

You’ve got to get yourself together, you’ve got stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it…

Shhh…go back to sleep. Try again, later in the morning.

It’s just a moment, this time will pass…

Stuck in a Moment: U2 @ Sphere-Las Vegas

I’ve waited most of my life to see my favorite band. I’ve never been much of a concert go-er, but this one topped my list of things to do for a fulfilling life. My funcle lives in Las Vegas, no need to hunt down hotel bargains. However, once concert ticket x 3 is out of our budget since we also want a summer vacation. Plus meals, plus airline tickets…a solo trip is easier. A little.

I downloaded several ticket apps. Checked prices, sections, looked at videos people posted, how can I not make this happen? It’s Sphere, a planet-building emerging from the desert, with U2 inside. Ticket prices seemed to drop the day of the concert. If I get there, wait until the day of the concert, maybe…

My husband and 14 year old gave me a “meh,” when I asked if they wanted to go. I didn’t need much convincing to go without them. I booked a flight, made arrangements to hang out with my uncle, who is more like my older brother, and decided to wait on the ticket. People resell tickets all the time. If I don’t make it, there are plenty of other places and events to see.

…but I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

I arrived in Vegas on Tuesday, December 6th to attend the concert on Wednesday. I scheduled my return flight for Friday. I figured a mid-week concert ticket would be a easier to snag than one happening over the weekend. This was before I knew they extended their residency through the first weekend in March. And so goes the world of not being up to par with concerts.

Not being much of a risk-taker, and certainly not one who gambles, I gambled anyway and bought two tickets four days early. My uncle would go with me. Who goes to a concert alone? Worse, what if they’re sold out? My youngest brother is also a fan, and I kept him and my sisters updated on this trip since I booked my flight in October. We contemplated a sibling outing so we could rock out together. It didn’t work. Like taking family pictures, it’s hard to get everyone in the same frame at the same time.

My OOTD

I kept them posted on everything in real time, but told them I’d enjoy the concert once we were there. I prioritized presence, but everything leading up to it didn’t count.

It’s a beautiful day, don’t let it get away…

The Portal

A beautiful night, anyway. We hike to the venue and figure out where to enter. I don’t know where to look. Do we take pictures in front of the massive orb or get in line and wait until after the concert? We decide to get in line. My heart wants to jump out of my body and I’m sixteen year old giddy. So many people! We’re in a portal about to board a mother ship to take (us) out of this place.

Tickets are ready and an usher directs us to another line even though it isn’t our assigned section. Scan. Scan. Scan. Scan. Small talk with people around us.

“We’ve waited for…”

“This is our second time…”

“We came all the way from…”

My barcodes are ready and I hold my phone up to the reader. The usher asks me to scan the second one. We try again.

ACCESS DENIED

“A lot of people are having this issue. Go to the service desk and they’ll get you in.” The usher continues scanning everyone else. Smiling at our line mates, we head to the desk to wait in another line. There’s more small talk with a guy who flew in a few hours earlier form Monterrey, Mexico. People are getting scanned or their tickets are getting printed.

Sleight of hand and twist of fate

Two young ladies make their way to the counter. “Are there tickets left?” The person helping us informs them it’s sold out. The lines have thinned. The deep U2 instrumental tones welcoming everyone have become louder as people found their seats. It starts soon.

My phone has stopped pinging.

I ping my sisters even though they’re probably already in bed.

I’m at a place called vertigo…it’s everything I wish I didn’t know…

Tuesday, February 20, 2024