When I left for the Journey show last Friday, I was wondering about the article factor. The show six weeks ago that I have not yet written about (lousy homework) was the greatest show ever. Was this show going to be so different that it merited an entire article of its own? I didn't want to include it in the account of the other show. The other show was a magical good time, and deserves to stand alone. Well, as it turns out, so does this past Friday's show. It was completely different from the last Journey show, and very different from any other concert experience I have ever had.
First of all, the show was at a casino. I have never seen a concert at a casino. The casinos 'round these parts usually book country acts that do not interest me or comedians that either do not interest me (Howie Mandel, I'm looking your way) or comedians that I cannot afford to see (oh, Bill Cosby, I can't pay what you are asking!) Anyway, Journey was playing at a casino. A casino 110 miles west of the city.
There is a casino that is half an hour out of the city. Twenty minutes if someone other than me is driving. Could Journey play there? Nope. I have to drive halfway to South Dakota to see Journey. (Here is where you try to point out that I didn't have to go see Journey again. And here is where I disagree.)
So, I print up the little map from the casino's web site. It is literally three roads to a fourth road, where the casino is located. Okay? Okay. Highway 212 to Highway 71 to Redwood County Road 2 to County Road 24. And the last three roads only made up 17 miles of the journey to Journey. So, no problem. Right? Right.
The Local Cool Guy and I left his house in great spirits, wearing our Journey shirts. ("Oh, you're not going to be that guy," the Pirate said to me as we chatted on the phone that day. What? But our shirts are so cool! My shirt is from the 1983 tour, and LCG's is a crew shirt from this tour. And not only are we that guy in fashion, we listened to Journey for most of the drive to the show. When it comes to Journey, we are totally that guy.) Anyway, LCG was driving, because he is much speedier than I am. As we merged onto Highway 212, the car got cranky, so I shut off the air conditioning. (I drive a Dodge Neon. That means I can either run the air conditioning or accelerate. My choice!)
No more sputtering from the Neon. Neat! Then LCG says to me, "Say, is your Check Engine light usually on?" Ah, no. I am fixing to have a snit, and we haven't even left the western suburbs! "So, what do you want to do?" he asked me, and I turned right into a four-year-old. "I wanna go see Journeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!!!" Apparently the oil change guy had told him earlier in the day that if the car had been cranky in first gear, it was because the car needed the injectors flushed. With that information, I felt moderately confident in the car's ability to make the 200+ mile round trip. Snit averted. Almost.
Turns out Highway 212 has lots of stoplights until you are about 30 miles out of town. Grrr. I started to get all anxious because I happen to know that Separate Ways is the second song on the set list. My reoccurring theme of the drive was, "I don't want to miss Separate Ways!" It sets the tone for the show for me. A show full of good time sing along rock and roll hits! But LCG reminded me that was why he was driving there. So we would be on time.
And have I mentioned the weather? There were supposed to be thunderstorms rolling in across the state, including the area near the casino. Which is all well and good, except that Journey was playing the outdoor amphitheater. I was willing to stand in the rain for two hours if I could rock to Wheel In The Sky. It keeps on turning, you know. So it was raining here and there, which was freaking me out because 212 is a hillbilly road. You know, a two-lane highway. When I am going seventy miles an hour, I don't like traffic in the next lane to also be going seventy, yet heading straight for me. Lousy rainy hillbilly road.
Then we hit a detour. Crap! Every county road we passed, LCG wanted to know, "Is 3 on the map?" "No!" "Is 4 on the map?" "No!" (The casino map, not so detailed.) We followed the detour to 71, so we were finally less than 20 miles from our destination, but about 5 minutes from showtime. And did I mention that not only did the show start at eight o'clock, but Journey was actually going on at eight? I didn't want to miss Separate Ways!
But looking the general direction of the casino, the sky wasn't black exactly. More like a navy blue. (So, it was going to turn black very soon.) "I don't think you're going to miss Separate Ways." I thought he was right. A rain delay would help us out quite a bit. Because then we got to Renville County Road 2. We wanted Redwood County Road 2. We decided to try Renville anyway. It was only a mile, and the map might have a typo. And I didn't want to miss Separate Ways. Have I also mentioned that both of our phones had lost signals back on Hillbilly Road 212, so we could not have called anyone for directions if we had thought of it?
So, of course, it was the wrong County Road 2. We went back to 71, and in another mile, arrived at a sign for the casino and the correct County Road 2. We turned in the direction of the billboard's arrow. After a few miles, we realized there had been some fine print on the billboard that we had missed. We were meandering the wrong county road in the pouring rain again. I decided we should just buy a farm and stay. Metal Cowboy and CEB would shake their heads and mutter, "They went to the Journey show and were never heard from again." That's because staying in Morton, Minnesota would have been easier than finding the casino!
Hillbilly roads and bad billboards! We started to think that the casino didn't really exist. The casino in the metro area? Oh, it exists. There are billboards and brown Department Of Transportation signs pointing you in the direction of the casino on every road that could even remotely lead you to the casino. Apparently they don't do it that way west of town.
We even considered just going home, but since we were so close, we decided that we wanted to see if the casino really existed. And then there it was! No, not the casino, don't be ridiculous. But it was Redwood County Road 2! Yes! And then when we turned we saw the "turn here" billboard. Um. Not helpful. You cannot see the "turn here" billboard until you have already turned. We came to a stop sign. A billboard pointed us to the right. We turned right, and there loomed a giant lit casino. "AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" we hollered in unison. It does exist!
And we pulled up, and everyone was standing in line outside the amphitheater. That's right! We got there just in time! The rain delay was over, and the crowd was filing in! I didn't miss Separate Ways! When we parked, I crumpled up the not helpful map and threw it. "We need that to get home." "I'm going home on 169! It's a proper divided highway, not a hillbilly road." When we exited the car, we shared a hug. The hug you see people giving their child when their child returns from the war, or is maybe rescued from a desert island. The "we survived insurmountable odds and are now at the Journey show" hug.
We got our tickets, and asked the nice lady how much time we had before the show. She said at least half an hour. We made a busy beeline to the cocktail bar portion of the casino, and sat down to have a few belts. This is standard Journey show preparation, but in this case we needed to recover from two hours of downpours on hillbilly roads. And then the rumor started circulating. Tornado Warning. And then a whole bunch of people started filing in. And then the bartender hollered, "Tornado Warning! Everyone go to the basement!" and pointed us in a direction. We picked up our cocktails and wandered after the crowd.
He: "Why did they make us walk past windows? Where is the basement?"
Me: "Um, LCG, we went past the basement."
He: "Oh. Why didn't you tell me?"
Me: "You seemed like you were headed somewhere."
He: "I'm drunk! Why am I in charge? (pause) Are you right now asking yourself why you are at a casino during a tornado supervising the drunk LCG?"
Me: "It did occur to me."
After much wandering, we wound up sitting in the casino restaurant, sipping our cocktails (I enjoy the fact that we were allowed to tote our cocktails along during the tornado) and making friends with bingo playing senior citizens. Mr. Drunk LCG was quizzing these poor older ladies on their bingo habits, but they didn't seem to mind.
Then we heard the all clear announcement. Then we heard that the Journey show was canceled. It was only 9:30! They still could have played! Let's see, three thousand fans were there, Journey was there, the storms had passed, and the three thousand fans all happened to be holding tickets to a Journey show and there happened to be an amphitheater there. But, that was just not the case. Neither of us gambles. We had just driven over 100 miles through iffy weather to rock. And there was no rocking to be done.
He: "I have the second season of The Simpsons on DVD."
Me: "Okay."
So we drove (uneventfully-no hideous detours or other unpleasantness) back to the cities to sit in his living room and watch the Simpsons. And Journey probably won't be back in the Midwest until next summer.
Me: "Great. Now I just have to look forward to you singing Journey songs in my car for another year."
He: "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Me: "It's not. I just kind of thought I would get to see one more Journey show before that kicked into effect."
But, no such luck. Although I think that was the most pre-concert excitement I have ever had, and the concert didn't even happen. Stupid weather. I don't think I'll be getting all psyched up about any more outdoor concerts any time soon. If I do, monsoon season will probably start.