Let's Spend the Night Together

Okay - this is a story that I have told many times, but have failed in successfully putting it to paper. Let me try again, although, warning, this one is a bit mundane.

One of the most common questions that I get asked, and one of my favorite questions to ask others, is the classic, "What is the best concert that you have ever seen?" For some people this is an instant answer, and may include something along the lines of, "Back when I was a student at UCLA in 1969...," or, "I stumbled into this dingy and depressing club in New York, and Television played an impromptu set to 15 people." For others it may take over an hour to decide, as they can't pick which of their 100 Phish shows was their favorite, "Night 3 at the Garden in 1998 was magical, although, their 2005 NYE show maybe takes the cake. No, scratch that. It was their one off show at Red Rocks in 2007... I think."

When I was growing up it seemed like the generations before me had more opportunities to see the artists that they loved, often at incredible venues or festivals, and for cheap; these two factors seem to accompany most stories depicting someone's favorite show. Once I realized that this misconception was due only to the fact that my music taste preceded me by at least three decades, I was opened up to the world of bands currently touring. This enabled me to actively seek shows out, as opposed to only seeing them in the limited news outlets that only promoted the arena events. In college I could run down to the local club and see two or three small national acts for $15 or less. I discovered a lot of great music this way, and it laid the foundation for my love of live events and the planning/production that they require.

Getting back to my point - and apologies for the slight diversion - my answer to this question is difficult. There are many different factors to take into consideration when deciding: sentiment, show production, artist, venue, mental state, experience, and the list goes on. The most sentimental show that I have ever been to is the third and final time that I saw Rush in 2015 with my dad and brother. Meanwhile, Foo Fighters at Wrigley Field in 2018 with my best friend Jake takes the venue award. You get my point.

Despite all of this, one concert resonates with me more than most: The Rolling Stones in St. Louis at the Dome on September 26, 2021. This was the opening show in support of their much delayed No Filter Tour.

For starters, although it was previously announced that Charlie Watts would not be joining the band due to health issues, Mr. Watts passed away in August of 2021, just one month before the show. Charlie was the founding drummer of the band, and had been with them since the very beginning. This tour would be the band's first without Charlie keeping it tight behind the kit. Nobody knew how the band would react to this, as this was also their first show of the tour. We knew there would almost certainly be a tribute in some capacity, but it was not yet clear. I was excited to see Steve Jordan behind the kit; Steve had worked closely with Charlie since the '80s, and if anyone was qualified for the job, it was surely him.

Although I had grown up listening to The Rolling Stones, it had never occurred to me that I should try to catch one of their shows. I think I become wary about seeing legacy acts in the dwindling years of their life, especially when very few of the original members are still touring, if any at all (cough, cough, Yes... although they still put on a good show). For whatever reason, however, I decided to buy a ticket to the show just a week prior. It was on a Sunday, St. Louis was the closest they would play, and I would already be traveling for a different festival taking place the day before in Indianola, Iowa. I picked a GA ticket located on the back half of the arena floor and listened to nothing but the Stones for the rest of the week.

Following one of the worst festival experiences of my life at Knotfest that Saturday, which is a story for another time, I got back home at about 1:00am on Sunday morning. Knowing I would need to get on the road early the next day, I immediately fell asleep on the living room couch. If my alarm didn't wake me up, it would certainly wake my parents up. My rest was not very restful, but I soldiered on and was on the road by 7:00am. I had six hours of driving to do, and my anxious personality requires plenty of buffer when I travel. After stopping for the greasy and delicious combination of pancakes, egg, cheese, and bacon that makes up a McGriddle, as well as a large coffee, I was St. Louis bound.

I got to St. Louis, parked close to the venue, and wandered over to the concourse to check out their merch truck. Because I ordered my ticket to be picked up at the box office

day of show, I got a physical ticket (RIP). I believe this is an important detail, as my luck once inside the venue was made possible because of physical tickets. Once I got my shirt I went around to the designated entrance and got in the line. The doors had not yet opened, but I had nothing better to do, so I stood in line for a little over an hour. I spoke to the attendees around me, and I got to know them through their relationship with the Stones. Some had travelled from New Orleans, a few were local, and a couple were from different countries. One thing was certain - I was the youngest in line by a solid 15 years.

The doors opened and we all flowed in. One important detail to note is that this show was the arena's first show back post-Covid. The pandemic left multiple people without jobs, and one of the largest impact areas was the events industry. I bring this up because it is worth noting that the staff at the venue likely had not yet worked a show of this magnitude, and it is tough to properly train an entirely new crew on best practices and protocol. As everyone with floor tickets made their way to the designated floor entrance, a ticketing agent announced that many of us would have the choice to get our original seats upgraded at no additional cost. My best guess for this happening is that the show was undersold. The promoter and organizers did not want Keith and Mick to jump onstage only to be met with hundreds of open floor seats - not a good look. All of the GA floor ticket holders could get a reserved seat on the floor, and the venue most likely brought people down from the upper bowl to stand down at the back of the floor. I got up to the desk handing out the new tickets, and the assistant made a hole punch in both of my physical tickets; this ensures that someone can't get inside the arena and pass a ticket to someone in the lower bowl, essentially allowing them access to the floor using the same ticket. The hole shows that the ticket has already been used. Following the instructions I walked to the next set of workers and held my wrist out to get a wristband, which indicates to staff that I am allowed to be on the floor. This is a quick visual confirmation, as opposed to checking someone's ticket at every checkpoint. I got to the doors of the floor and was handed another wristband, although I had no idea why. Once I entered the arena I wandered towards my seat to check it out, and then planed on heading to the bathroom. In the process of doing this, something clicked in my brain: two wristbands - one for admission, one for Pit access...

The way the floor was laid out, the GA section was in the back, there were sections of reserved seating in front of that, and two VIP GA pits were positioned on either side of the stage's catwalk: Pit 1 and Pit 2 (pictures attached). As I glanced down at my wristband, I see that it says Pit 2. It takes a second to settle in, but I then immediately hurried to the access point for Pit 2. I flashed my wristband, they checked the holographic element, and let me in. I wandered towards the front, as the section was not yet filled with people, and ended up at the barricade. I was stage left, which is Keith's side, roughly 20 feet from center stage where the catwalk came out. I took a minute to internally freak out, and then kept my composure as I was there by complete accident.

I went through all of the scenarios in my mind, and the only logical explanation was that I was accidentally given a Pit 2 wristband. I had gotten my GA floor ticket upgraded to reserved seating, an employee thought this entailed me getting a wristband, and I was given that. Unbeknownst to either of us, I had just been handed a second upgrade valued at around $700. The decision to hold my bladder from then on out was the easiest choice I made the entire day.

I stood in awe for roughly two hours as I witnessed one of the greatest bands to ever grace this planet. I was fully entranced: Mick's moves, Keith's charisma, and Ronnie's joy. I thought about how crazy it was that my grandma grew up listening to the Stones, and how they were currently standing 15 feet in front of me. That was a night that I will never forget, and I feel extremely lucky to have that experience. I desperately want to see them perform again, but how do you follow up a show like that?