Well, I've got my tickets to the Barrie show on 22 Aug 98, and I'm as excited as... uh... a Pearl Jam fan going to one of their concerts... yes, that'll do... and I've decided to begin a little diary of my trip to the 'Park. Sure, it ain't gonna go down for another three months, but I'm bored as hell right now, so I figure what the hey...
Entry 1 - 9 Mar 98: The Purchasing
I arose from a series of slightly demented dreams not far past the hour of seven that morning. Wiping the sleep goblins from my eyes, I realized that today was the day -- tickets are going on sale in a scant three hours, and it was time to start the insanity. I had never purchased tickets for a concert before (honestly, we don't get many concerts back in the NS), much less a Pearl Jam concert, so this was going to be a new experience for me altogether. Nova Scotia isn't exactly a rock music mecca, and living in Cape Breton doesn't exactly help, either. At the very least, the minimum driving distance required to even get within a bearable distance of anything even vaguely reminiscent of a bona fide rock performance is three hours, but we have had our fair share of truly groovin' musical acts, all of which I missed completely. I mean, we've had the 'Hip a few times. Green Day took a spin down not too long ago. Hell, Bob Dylan even showed up a few years back. And we do have Sloan...
All right, so here I am walking my way down to Square One in search of my prized tickets, the recently released 'Wishlist' single blaring in my ears, a slight skip in my step despite that fact that I have not eaten in over twelve hours. Arriving at the mall, I find myself surrounded by a moderately large group of fellow Jam fans -- fifty to be exact, only one of whom I actually recognized. I guess I'm just used to being able to name every face I'm surrounded by, as is the case back home... oh well...
So anyways, here I am a whole two and a half hours before the tickets are about to go on sale, sitting around with some fans shootin' the shit. A few of us strike up a little conversation on the specifics of the show and what our chances of getting tickets were, stuff like that. I assured them that all would be fine, reminding them all of the sheer size of Molson Park. I wowed them with my sizeable collection of Pearl Jam memorabilia and CD collection, made several remarks concerning my extreme distaste for the newly released pile of pap that is 'Deep Impact', and was quite vocal on my pick for the Stanley Cup. (Sure, I'd like to see Ottawa win, but I'm realistic -- it's between Buffalo and Detroit, and I wanna see Shanahan make amends for that final shoot out during the Olympics against Hassek...)
The hours waned away in good time, and we arranged ourselves into a line along the outer wall of the ol' City Centre mall. I took my place at fiftieth in line, and we all waited for the Ticketmaster lady to start shoveling out our tickets. By that time, two hundred people or so found themselves waiting in line for the event of the year, and the anticipation began to reach a feverish pitch. The Ticketmaster lady appeared, and we were off and running. The line began to dwindle into the mall rather slowly, and some people began to become rather concerned with their chances of snagging a ticket. They had heard about the 27 minute sell-out of the Montreal show, but I reminded them of the sheer size of Molson Park, which could hold nearly twice that of its Quebecer cousin.
At approximately thirty minutes past the hour of ten, I managed to find myself at the front of the line, mere inches from ticket dispenser, seconds away from purchasing my golden tickets. I wondered what would happen if for some reason I was not able to snag myself any tickets, be it for a sell-out or sun spots or whatever... but my concern was all for not, for as I plunked down my money and snatched my tickets from the Ticketmaster lady, I knew that all was right with the world.
Tickets in hand, I rushed home in search of sustenance. After making myself a truly magnificent feast of Kraft Dinner and cheese, I soon found myself dozing off in front of the TV, blissfully content with the knowledge of my secured spot of grass at the show.
And thusly does my odyssey begin. In a few scant months, the apex of years of Pearl Jamming will have coalesced into the pinnacle of all that is sacred to Pearl Jam fans the world over -- a live performance by the guys themselves. It's been five years in the waiting, but I know that it's all going to be worth the wait...
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