There and Halfway Back Again; The Ho Ho Show

Boys and girls, crowd around and I shall tell you a tale. A tale of travel, a tale of music, a tale of moshing. It is the story of 'The Ho Ho Show: 2004' and it begins in Springfield. I was making plans for heading to the concert when my good buddy Stevo called me up and dropped the news on me; he couldn't get a ride. Oh no! What would I do? As the protagonist of the story I decided to be plucky and self-sacrificing and drive 100 miles in the opposite direction to pick up my friend. And so it was that I found myself in Champaign/Urbana when I should have been in St. Louis. It was really kind of surreal.

After I picked up Good Buddy #1 it was off to get the rest of the crew, this one was hiding in the backwoods of Jersey County, not far from Brighton. We took all sorts of backroads to get there and eventually picked him up around 6:10. By the time we left Barrett's house it was 6:20ish. We took off toward St. Louis, and ultimately The Pageant.

I was speeding pretty heavily because the show started at 7:00, and it was about 7:05 and we still weren't there. But eventually got there and found a parking spot... that was damn near my house in Illinois. I don't know what all those people were there for, but there were ass loads of cars that couldn't have been for the Ho-Ho-Show. The reason I know this is because I am pretty well versed in the Point's demographic, and these people actually graduated High School. I could tell by their cars, and their generally snooty demeanor. Plus the fact that they were like 50. Maybe they thought there was a Kenny-G concert that night or something.

Despite the retirement village going out for the night we still got a spot and got to the venue pretty easily. Going in, security was overly tight for a concert. Don't get me wrong I appreciated a random female gently feeling me up as next guy did, but it seemed like overkill. I wasn't there to meet the president, I was there to make the metal sign and push people in the pit. Oh and music, something about music. I would say we actually arrived around 7:20. In that time the opener act 'The Adored' had already played and their gear was off the stage. Did they play like one song? What the crap?

We wondered around and saw where we needed to be: right in front of the stage in the pit. There was only one problem, a problem that poured his 240 pounds into a large blue polo shirt and kakhi pants. That's right, it was a security guard; apparently one who thought that the pit was full enough. Ah, but sadly he hadn't consulted us about that decision. And that was really his mistake. He walked to one side and looked away for just long enough for us to bum rush the pit. It was great, we were in. Then we noticed him comming back, so I burrowed in deeper like a mole escaping the garden hose. Stevo followed suit behind me, but our burrowing efforts were too slow for Barrett and the 5 foot 9 inches of minimum waged fury that was the security guard pulled him back to the upper levels.

I felt so segregated. A bit like the Jews in all the WWII movies I've seen (thanks History Channel), me and Steve made the train and Barrett had to stay in the Ghetto. Or something. In any case that was how we saw the Lostprophets set. Apparently they're Welsh. Which is a really funny term for being from Wales. But after decades of being called "Walish" I guess I can see why they changed it. During their set Steve and I debated their sexuality. You see, these guys were dressed like they had spent the day with the Queer Guys. Seriously, in fact I think they could coach the Queer Guys. Especially Thom. What the hell Thom? Pull yourself together man, people are going to start thinking you're straight.

Anyway Lostprophets were rediculously well dressed. And one of them had some strange pelvic tattoos, kind of tribal style and going down to the junkular area. I don't know too many heteros sporting that one. A few of them were sporting 'vintage' tee shirts with more accesories than Claire's in the mall. One of them had a pretty righteous mullet-ish hairstyle, except if you can imagine a mullet that the gays have taken over and made stylish. That's when I couldn't take it anymore, when you actually make a mullet look so good that I would consider it for myself (again) you've gone too far, and by fashion alone cannot be straight. Add to that the fact that their hair styles obviously took longer than most womens' and one of them I wasn't even sure was a man...and you have an ambiguous group.

Their set was alright but pretty short at only 6 or 7 songs. The whole time I spent mocking them, and trying to figure a way for Barrett to get down to us. I saw one intrepid kid try not once, but twice to get down to us. He would walk to one of the areas where the tables are right against the pit and hop over, then try to get deep into the pit. Both times a security guard would come and get him, and both times they grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and dragged him out. It was hilarious. But I give him points for trying.

After Lostprophets finished up a few people exited the pit and in the hustle and bustle our good friend Mr. Barry managed to get past chubby security guard #1 and down to us. Next up, Cake they get bold type because they're that amazing. What a show. These guys should have been have been headlining. Half the crowd was there for them, and nobody was dissapointed. Very rarely have I seen a band work an audience like they did, and somehow they made it look like they weren't doing anything at all. Cake was great. While they were playing we looked around and saw a really hot girl. She looked so familiar... me and Stevo debated who she was and both thought that she looked a lot like a girl we knew. Eventually she was standing next to the three of us and I asked them if we should just ask, so I did. "Hey, we were wondering, are you Melissia Berry?" It turned out she was. I started to explain who I was and she was like "you're Scott Gresham." That moment alone was worth my $37.50. Sure we were neighbors, but she still knows who I am. Damn, I'm just that sexy. Anyway Cake rocked, and I don't think I've ever seen a better stage show. At the end of their set people chanted for more Cake for at least 5 minutes, but the radio promoter people wouldn't have it, even when they started to take back the stage. The promoter guy flipped out on the side of the stage and they had shrug and walk off. People booed after that, not booing Cake but booing the asshole promoter.

So after Cake no one was really interested in Jimmy Eat World, well except for some over privledged frat boys with flipped up collars. More on them later. But JEW was taking the stage just as the last cries for a Cake encore were dying out. And, although I like Jimmy Eat World enough I just didn't care. I wanted more Cake and I wanted to eat it too (I'm really sorry for that lame joke I just couldn't resist.) So JEW turned into a gi-normous moshpit for no reason. I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a mosh pit kind of guy. Something about smashing the hell out of a random person with no hard feelings is just so appealing.

Naturally, I had a hell of a lot of fun with it. At one point I decided to go on a ramage to protect my personal space. I pretty much pushed everyone around me away and had my own little area to stomp around in. Then another time (and this was the first of two times I made eye contact with JEW frontman, Jim Adkins) everyone in front of me, including most of the annoying frat guy contingent, was leaning over heavily. I just decided to push them past the breaking point, I heaved with all I had and they all fell down. So there was a big section, maybe a 15 foot radius, of people fallen down in a circle and me putting my foot on one and raising my arms in triumph. That was when Jimmy John looked at me. I was really near the front, in spitting range if I wanted to. It was pretty cool.

As time went on we kind of moved back a bit and the second remarkable thing happened. I don't know if you guys have ever had to deal with annoying people crowd surfing over you, but it sucks. And we were sick of it. So Barrett decided that we would throw the next person that came over us. We waited and waited, and evenutally this girl was getting passed over us and we looked at each other and gave the universal '1,2,3' head movements and grunts and threw the bitch a good 8 or 9 feet ahead of us onto those same unsuspecting frat bastards. She toppled them, when this 80-90 pound girl crashed down onto the heads of these preppie jerk-offs she brought them down. And they stayed down for a bit. It was a shining, wonderful moment. The final thing of note I have to say about the concert was me, directly pissing off the fratty's. Everyone was moshing through all of JEW's songs, it wasn't about the band anymore. JEW finished whatever song they were playing and people were yelling, and I shouted out "No one's listening" right as I did everything got quiet and that just rang out. I think the band heard me as they were just a few feet away, and the dick head frat boys definately did. It was great. There's more to tell but I think I'll save it to tell you in person sometime, this has become far too long. I hope this tides you over until the 23rd, because it's my last post before my ski trip. Merry Christmas everyone - Scott