OK, so Friday was REM in Mansfield (Boston), MA; Saturday was REM at Jones Beach, NY. Sunday is Father's Day and my eldest daughter's Confirmation Day at church. Are we exhausted, yes... do we care, NO! We had already had a great weekend, and the plan was set for us to have Amanda's Confirmation ceremony at church at 11, where she was the speaker, then celebrate with family and friends at home. A little while later, Amanda and I would hop on the LIRR and head in to NYC to see Michael Stipe and David Belisle at a book signing for Belisle's photography book, Hello near Greenwich Village. Yes, I do realize how insane that makes me seem... because I am.
The ceremony at church was beautiful. Amanda was graceful and confident as the speaker for the Confirmands. Our entire family was there to celebrate. After sleeping less than 5 hours due to the Jones Beach delay, I was stumbling a little, but enjoying the day. I had read about the book signing about a month ago, and figured I would go alone, and Mike would stay home with the kids. But then I decided to see if Amanda was interested, and for her, Greenwich Village is the epitome of cool, so she was in. My husband was gracious enough to let us escape the house on Father's Day when we should have been catering to him. He understands that this was a rare opportunity, and I wanted in.
In an effort not to offend our guests I didn't check the train schedule until they had just about all left the party. Of course I then realized the train was departing in 5 minutes and we literally had to RUN to catch it. Thankfully I live 1 block away from the train station- and it is a blessing!
After the 10 minutes or so it took for me to catch my breath, Amanda and I started talking about our weekend. She was really talkative about the Jones Beach show, and extremely grateful that we brought her. Then she told me that during church, before and after her speech all she could think about was that she was going to get to meet Michael Stipe later in the day. At that moment I realized I had passed my REM obsession-fanaticism onto my daughter. I guess there are worse things!
I don't claim to be an expert on the NYC subway system, and it took me a while to get my bearings straight, but once I did we were on our way. We arrived to the area of the McNally Robinson bookstore, and it was beautiful. The several blocks we walked were gorgeous, the weather was unbelievable. We found the bookstore and the inevitable line for the signing. After waiting about 20 minutes on the line an employee came out to tell us how things would go. She was really nice, and was wearing a red t-shirt that said "This is the part where I save the day". How cool. I'm sure she really is one of those people, always picking up the pieces. We were told pictures were OK, but Michael wouldn't be posing, and they would allow us to have one item other than the book signed as well. I was both thrilled and disappointed. I have a pretty substantial collection of REM memorabilia, much of it signed, but some great pieces without signatures. But because I had to literally run out of the house, I didn't bring anything with me.
Once the line started to move, I began to get nervous. I had met Michael Stipe once before, backstage after a show at Jones Beach in 1999. And before my husband introduced me to him (my husband is brave enough to talk to anyone, I however prefer to shrink in the corner), I told him I thought I was going to vomit. My nerves had the best of me once again.
The employees also came around with post it notes for us to place in the book if we wanted our book personalized by name, or with a witty comment. Here's where my sense of humor is questionable. My kids, forever, have thought that in the song Drive, Michael Stipe is singing to me. When he says "Ollie, Ollie, Ollie ..." (you get the point), they have all thought he was saying Ali. It's a cute joke in our house, but probably only there. My brilliant idea was to have Michael Stipe inscribe the book to "Ali, ali, ali , ali, ali"... and I actually wrote that on my post it note. I figured he would think I was crazy unless I explained, which gave me something to say to him.
As the line snaked around the corner nearing the bookstore, we could catch a glimpse of Michael and David through the windows. Michael looked dapper as usual in a white suit, and the whole scene was somewhat surreal. Everyone was very patient and kind, although the guys behind us online were a bit obnoxious, but it didn't matter. Amanda and I got our cameras ready (yes, plural) and headed into the book store. As we approached the table, Amanda told Michael that she had been to her first REM show the night before and she loved it. He hesitated, looked up at her and said "Did ya get soaked?" Of course she said yes and laughed to which he said, "Me too!"
He signed her book and then was gracious enough to sign her shirt- Amanda wore her Dad's t-shirt from Wuxtry Records in Athens, GA. We took a road trip last year and finally made it there. I guess that's another REM story! One employee gave Michael my book with the ridiculous post it note, and as Michael looked at it I cringed. This was not the impression I intended to make, but there was no turning back. I proceeded to tell him my little antecdote about the song Drive, and the lyric my kids love to interpret. He laughed a little and then said "You know what I'm really saying there right?" I stumbled out "Ollie Ollie oxenfree?" and he replied, "Well, it's about Oliver North- I hate to break it to you." He confirmed the spelling, and wrote it only once, which is perfectly fine with me.
Now I know I can be a little flighty, but at no point did I ever believe he was actually singing to me... I just want to make that clear. I felt a little foolish, and said something about the kids again- and I remembered Amanda was still there! I said, "Actually, this is my daughter" and Michael looked to her and said, "Well in that case it is all about her!" I was both mortified and thrilled... and I noticed that Amanda had continued to take pictures while I was up there. One of them is the ridiciulous photo I posted on this blog- I swear, I do not normally looked that crazed, and I was very calm in the store. My husband took one look at that picture and said I looked like that nutty 'run away bride' from Atlanta a couple of years ago. Thanks, honey!
Before we left I told David Belisle that I thought his photos were beautiful- and I mean that. The book is a must have for any REM fan. The photos are in some cases bizarre, in many cases stunning and revealing about real life on the road. He obviously has a great eye for photography, and I look forward to seeing more of them on the REM website. David must have really thought I was crazy- but no matter. He was as gracious as Michael, and actually told me he loved my camera! Good to know it's respected by a real photographer!
Amanda and I headed back to the subway and to Penn Station for the nearly 2 hour train ride back home, all smiles and very pleased with our weekend. Our Stipe encounter was worth the time and energy for sure. Amanda was very impressed by how nice evryone was, Michael in particular, and is very much looking forward to another REM encounter.
As for me, I am preparing a bag for the kids for the night. My husband and I are headed back in to NYC tonight for the last local REM show of the tour at Madison Square Garden and they will be with my parents again (THANKS MOM AND DAD!). I am thrilled because it sold out, and I know the energy will be electric. I am also sad because I know it will probably be quite a while before I get to see these guys live again.
I know most people my age wouldn't be rearranging schedules and cramming all of these shows in to one week. For most people, one show is enough. I am just not that person. Each REM show is different, and I hate to miss out on any of them. Like I said before, REM is my thing. And this is my time... so I plan to enjoy every last miute of it. I'll update tomorrow with more...
Showing posts with label #REMjones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #REMjones. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Saturday the 14th
So, our groupie-like fantasy had to continue. We headed back to NY Saturday to spend some time with the the kids and prepare for another night of REM heaven. After an afternoon playing with the kids and a pre-Father's Day dinner with my extended family, Mike and I headed to Jones Beach for another REM show. This time we brought our 13 year old daughter Amanda. That may not seem like a big deal, but it was hard for me to decide to let her go. Most Moms will understand that there is very little in their every day lives that is actually theirs alone- it's even harder for those of us who don't work outside the home. Sad as it may seem to an outsider, REM is my 'thing'. It is a band of people I respect as musicians and human beings. They make beautiful music that really affects me. So, allowing Amanda to attend her first REM show meant that I wan't just Ali- REM fan for the night, I was also going to be MOM.
Amanda has already been to several good concerts, so she is no novice, butI needed to prepare her for what she would be experiencing by sitting with me. I laid it all on the line for her. The reality is that I embarass her by the simple fact that I am her mother, and she is 13. I didn't plan to spend the evening trying to placate her by sitting peacefully and not singing, dancing, and screaming along when I felt so necessary. Nor would I at any point during REM's time on stage escort her to the bathroom. Fluids were to be cut off after the first opening band to help ensure there were no bathroom emergencies. Amanda was fully briefed and still chose to sit with me (bizarro)- which meant that Mike got the seat by himself, much closer to the stage. At least I tried.
We made it to Jones Beach about 15 minutes before The National took the stage, a band Amanda really wanted to see. After finding our seats, we enjoyed the sound and relaxed just a bit. The clouds were coming in, and looking ominous. I had brought rain ponchos, but left them in the car when Amanda and I decided we wouldn't need them, and even if we did, we wouldn't wear them anyway. Not the smartest move I have ever made. We walked around for a little bit and then sat again for Modest Mouse, who were outstanding. The lightening began, and got more intense as their set went on. I was starting to worry, not so much for our safety, but that I wouldn't get to see REM again. Keep in mind Jones Beach has almost no covered seats, it is literally on the beach with no protection from the elements. If REM hadn't been involved in this show, I would have left immediatly.
The lightening got more and more intense, and I was told that they were planning to evacuate the arena. The rain was coming down hard, and as we got out of our seats just barely into the tunnel that would lead to a lobby like area, lightening hit the structure. Yes, it did actually strike. The sound was incredibly intense, and people were ducking as if they thought peices of the concrete were flying. I could smell something burning, the scent was awful. After a while of no one telling us anything, and rain so intense there were almost instantly inches of rain collecting on the ground, an announcement was made that they were actually planning to restart the concert at 10PM. Now, the rational Mom in me thought that was insane, and probably dangerous. But the REM-fanatic in me was thrilled.
To say we were soaked is an understatement. The rain delay lasted nearly 2 hours, and around 10:15, REM took the stage. Amanda and I hurried past our real seats, up a few rows knowing full well that a lot of people left when the rain started. They opened with a short version of CCR's Have You Ever seen The Rain. The perfect opener. They went on to put on another amazing show. Michael Stipe was flat out funny, and genuinely happy that people stayed through it all. My husband managed to get himself into a center aisle row about 9 from the stage- I was incredibly jealous, but determined to enjoy this show. Mike got his wish when they played 1,000,000 and I was so happy to hear Welcome to the Occupation. I didn't sit once, and was thrilled to see Amanda dancing and singing too. Each of the band members made their way to the front of the stage getting themselves just as wet as the rest of us- that was classy.
A big Thank You to Michael Stipe for going right into the encore songs. He recognized that it would have been silly to have us all sit there while they went off stage just to come back on to play again. And we even got a bonus "End of the World" which Michael had said they would never play again. The rain did not stop through the entire set. The show ended at nearly midnight, and my clothes were so wet they must have weighed 30 pounds. Being at that show felt like we were witnessing something special. REM made sure that everyone who stayed through that storm got a great show- it was worth every rain drop, lightening strike and poke of someone else's umbrella.
Oh, there's more... read on for my journey into Greenwich Village for Michael Stipe's book signing.
Amanda has already been to several good concerts, so she is no novice, butI needed to prepare her for what she would be experiencing by sitting with me. I laid it all on the line for her. The reality is that I embarass her by the simple fact that I am her mother, and she is 13. I didn't plan to spend the evening trying to placate her by sitting peacefully and not singing, dancing, and screaming along when I felt so necessary. Nor would I at any point during REM's time on stage escort her to the bathroom. Fluids were to be cut off after the first opening band to help ensure there were no bathroom emergencies. Amanda was fully briefed and still chose to sit with me (bizarro)- which meant that Mike got the seat by himself, much closer to the stage. At least I tried.
We made it to Jones Beach about 15 minutes before The National took the stage, a band Amanda really wanted to see. After finding our seats, we enjoyed the sound and relaxed just a bit. The clouds were coming in, and looking ominous. I had brought rain ponchos, but left them in the car when Amanda and I decided we wouldn't need them, and even if we did, we wouldn't wear them anyway. Not the smartest move I have ever made. We walked around for a little bit and then sat again for Modest Mouse, who were outstanding. The lightening began, and got more intense as their set went on. I was starting to worry, not so much for our safety, but that I wouldn't get to see REM again. Keep in mind Jones Beach has almost no covered seats, it is literally on the beach with no protection from the elements. If REM hadn't been involved in this show, I would have left immediatly.
The lightening got more and more intense, and I was told that they were planning to evacuate the arena. The rain was coming down hard, and as we got out of our seats just barely into the tunnel that would lead to a lobby like area, lightening hit the structure. Yes, it did actually strike. The sound was incredibly intense, and people were ducking as if they thought peices of the concrete were flying. I could smell something burning, the scent was awful. After a while of no one telling us anything, and rain so intense there were almost instantly inches of rain collecting on the ground, an announcement was made that they were actually planning to restart the concert at 10PM. Now, the rational Mom in me thought that was insane, and probably dangerous. But the REM-fanatic in me was thrilled.
To say we were soaked is an understatement. The rain delay lasted nearly 2 hours, and around 10:15, REM took the stage. Amanda and I hurried past our real seats, up a few rows knowing full well that a lot of people left when the rain started. They opened with a short version of CCR's Have You Ever seen The Rain. The perfect opener. They went on to put on another amazing show. Michael Stipe was flat out funny, and genuinely happy that people stayed through it all. My husband managed to get himself into a center aisle row about 9 from the stage- I was incredibly jealous, but determined to enjoy this show. Mike got his wish when they played 1,000,000 and I was so happy to hear Welcome to the Occupation. I didn't sit once, and was thrilled to see Amanda dancing and singing too. Each of the band members made their way to the front of the stage getting themselves just as wet as the rest of us- that was classy.
A big Thank You to Michael Stipe for going right into the encore songs. He recognized that it would have been silly to have us all sit there while they went off stage just to come back on to play again. And we even got a bonus "End of the World" which Michael had said they would never play again. The rain did not stop through the entire set. The show ended at nearly midnight, and my clothes were so wet they must have weighed 30 pounds. Being at that show felt like we were witnessing something special. REM made sure that everyone who stayed through that storm got a great show- it was worth every rain drop, lightening strike and poke of someone else's umbrella.
Oh, there's more... read on for my journey into Greenwich Village for Michael Stipe's book signing.
Recap of Friday the 13th
Ok, so you can see that I am not a kid. In fact, I have 4 kids of my own. But this past weekend, I acted like one- and it was fantastic! My husband and I are huge REM fans. I am more fanatical than Mike, but he loves to remind me that he saw them play at the local roller rink back in 1984, which apparently proves he is a bigger fan than me (not really- I was 12 at the time). Anyway, since the Monster tour in '96 or so, each time REM came through New York, we have made our way to a show, and loved every minute. We revel in their new releases, knowing that a live show is sure to follow at some point. Each tour we say, 'you know we really should travel and see them play another hsow outside of NY'. Until this year, we didn't follow through on our 'groupie' fantasy. When the dates were announced a few months ago, our planning began. We got tickets to three shows.
Our weekend began last Friday dropping our youngest daughter off for her very last day of preschool. I managed to wipe away the tears as we hopped aboard the Port Jeff ferry headed to Boston via Bridgeport, CT. Yes, I did opt to have my Dad pick her up on a very important day, and yes, I did feel guilty... but we're talking REM. While on the ferry half way across the Long Island Sound, my husband got a message from the school nurse- our son had a fever of 102 and had to be picked up. My dad to the rescue again, and yes, more guilt. We arrived in Bridgeport and found our way to the hotel near the Tweeter Center in Massachusettes, all the while playing REM cd's old and new, and remembering the concerts and chance encounters with band members. It was a fun, relaxing trip with the obligatory stop at Cracker Barrel.
When we arrived at the venue- which strangely reminded me of a theme park, I felt like I walked into Bush Gardens- the place was packed and I was astonished at the demographics of the crowd. Mike and I had been joking about how we're too old to be doing such a thing, following a band around the northeast, acting like teens. But we were certainly not the oldest in the bunch. I was thrilled to see several older women, fully grey and loving life at the show dancing and carrying on. My husband pointed to one woman near the front row and said "that's you in 20 years". God I hope so. She sat by herself and was clearly enjoying every minute of the experience.
The show as amazing. The two opening bands were outstanding, and then the moment I had waited nearly 4 years for- REM took the stage. The setlist was amazing, packed with little gems we had been hoping for, and a new acoustic twist on "Let Me In" which was beautiful. As the show went on, I couldn't stop smiling, the band sounded better than ever and was clearly having a very good time. Peter Buck was jumping high and rocking out, and Mike Mills was dancing and laughing out loud. Michael Stipe was right on. His performance throughout the night left me in awe- his voice seems stronger, and he moves as if he were a kid himself. The band was funny, generous and gracious all night long. It was well worth the trip, the guilt and the time away from home.
The reality is I am only 36, and there is nothing wrong with adults having a good time, too. It is a lesson REM has helped me learn, and if you read on, you'll see that the weekend didn't stop at the Tweeter Center!
Our weekend began last Friday dropping our youngest daughter off for her very last day of preschool. I managed to wipe away the tears as we hopped aboard the Port Jeff ferry headed to Boston via Bridgeport, CT. Yes, I did opt to have my Dad pick her up on a very important day, and yes, I did feel guilty... but we're talking REM. While on the ferry half way across the Long Island Sound, my husband got a message from the school nurse- our son had a fever of 102 and had to be picked up. My dad to the rescue again, and yes, more guilt. We arrived in Bridgeport and found our way to the hotel near the Tweeter Center in Massachusettes, all the while playing REM cd's old and new, and remembering the concerts and chance encounters with band members. It was a fun, relaxing trip with the obligatory stop at Cracker Barrel.
When we arrived at the venue- which strangely reminded me of a theme park, I felt like I walked into Bush Gardens- the place was packed and I was astonished at the demographics of the crowd. Mike and I had been joking about how we're too old to be doing such a thing, following a band around the northeast, acting like teens. But we were certainly not the oldest in the bunch. I was thrilled to see several older women, fully grey and loving life at the show dancing and carrying on. My husband pointed to one woman near the front row and said "that's you in 20 years". God I hope so. She sat by herself and was clearly enjoying every minute of the experience.
The show as amazing. The two opening bands were outstanding, and then the moment I had waited nearly 4 years for- REM took the stage. The setlist was amazing, packed with little gems we had been hoping for, and a new acoustic twist on "Let Me In" which was beautiful. As the show went on, I couldn't stop smiling, the band sounded better than ever and was clearly having a very good time. Peter Buck was jumping high and rocking out, and Mike Mills was dancing and laughing out loud. Michael Stipe was right on. His performance throughout the night left me in awe- his voice seems stronger, and he moves as if he were a kid himself. The band was funny, generous and gracious all night long. It was well worth the trip, the guilt and the time away from home.
The reality is I am only 36, and there is nothing wrong with adults having a good time, too. It is a lesson REM has helped me learn, and if you read on, you'll see that the weekend didn't stop at the Tweeter Center!
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