He Said...the who

Terry's story:

OH MY GOD I MET PETE TOWNSHEND!!!! I just wanted to mention this before I write this epic entry, as I still don’t freakin’ believe it!

Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I love music ... it is such a big part of my life, and to that I owe a debt of thanks to two people. The first is my Uncle Michael. I remember him sneaking me cassettes of KISS, Kansas and The Who. I wore out Tommy and Quadrophenia, and my uncle saved me from of childhood of either show tunes (Mom) or country music (Dad). The other person is Stace. I received such a musical education from her. She has opened my eyes to soooooooooooooo many different types of music.

Now, about three months ago, I saw in the base paper that The Who were coming to Fulda, a town about three hours away from here. “Honey, we be heading to a concert” I told Stace. She and I were supposed to see them in Philadelphia about seven years ago and due to circumstances, we just didn’t get to go. And I have regretted that decision ever since. So, I whip out the old credit card (THANKS VISA!!), and ordered three tickets. Two for Stace and me, and the other for “my brudah”, Michael. I figured that this would be a great birthday present for him and would give the three of us a memorable night out.

The countdown began. In my mind, I had all of these thoughts of how the night would turn out. Oh, how I underestimated how good it would end up!

Finally, the blessed day arrived. Michael’s wife Claudia happily agreed to watch Trevor while we made this epic trip. So, we took off. Now, there were a few warning signs that indicated that it might be a wacky night. The weather was just crappy, overcast and rainy all the way up there. The second warning sign was a car accident. The fire department was putting out a fire on the road. As we drove by, I saw the engine block on the breakdown lane. “Where the hell is the car at?” I thought to myself. A couple of seconds later, we see it in a bunch of trees about 40 feet up a hill. Crazy. Then we saw a house fire. Not good omens if you ask me.

We arrive in Fulda, and the skies are blue. The town is just beautiful. I lived there about 15 years ago, and had already been impressed with how the people there take care of their town. So, we get the car parked, and walk around. I even tried to take some WHO signs posted around the area, but I’ll be darned if they didn’t bolt them suckers down. They must have known I was coming.

After the walk, we started to get a bit peckish. By chance we happened on an awesome outdoor Italian place that had the BEST meal I have had in a while. Of course, Stace’s choice won our “Best Meal” competition, but all three meals were great. And the beer was pretty damn good too!

With bellies full of beer and food, it was time to find the concert venue. Now, as I said before, I lived in Fulda, and where the concert was being held was at the old Sickels Army Airfield. 10 minutes later, we are looking for a parking place. Hats off to Michael for MAKING a parking place right across from the venue. Tons of people were already there, and I was like a little kid. “C’mon, hurry up. Let’s get in there”, I believe is what was yelled to Stace and Michael.

We get in the line to get into the actual area, and we see people getting searched as they enter, finishing their beers and generally impatient to get into the show. Now, here is where several things happened that set the tone for the night:

1. We didn’t get searched. Normally, if 100 people get through a gate without getting searched, I am the one that will get selected. Not here buddy - walked into the show like I was walking into my living room!
2. With all of the people there, we were able to stroll (not walk, not run) to the front of the stage. 12 feet from the stage and to the left of the center. It was like it was meant to be!

Now, all of this strolling left us VERY parched, so it was beer run time. I told Stace to “hold our positions” while I took off to get provisions. In the background, there were storm clouds brewing, but thought nothing of it, since it CAN’T rain on a Who concert.

I get to the beer tent, and there is a line from hell. I wait. And wait. And ... crap ... it starts raining a ton. Now, I was under the awning of the beer tent, so I was able to just hang out, relax, stay nice and dry, and order the first of many beers. 10 minutes later, the rain is gone. I grab our 6 or so beers, and head out to rejoin Stace and Michael. MAN, are they soaked! Of course, I get a ribbing about my being dry as the desert, but as I had the beers in hand, they didn’t mess with me too much.

A pleasant surprise was The Cult opened the show. I really have always like this band and “She Sells Sanctuary” is a drunk-time favorite of mine. Stace must have heard this song at least a thousand times. Our closeness to the stage made it possible for us to be seen by the band, and in particular their bass player. I even held up a beer to him in case he was thirsty, but he smiled, shook his head, and mouthed out “Can’t, I’m working”. Such a job. They only played for about 35 minutes, but gave a very good performance. OH, I almost forgot. During the show, the aforementioned bass player threw a pick towards me. The problem was that it was thrown with the force of one of them Japanese throwing stars I used to order when I was a kid. Didn’t get the pick, but it was the thought that counted!

So, as there was a pause while The Cult’s crew got the stage cleared, and The Who’s crew got everything checked out, it was time for a BEER RUN! Mmmmmmmmmm ... delicious yummy German beer. Or, as our buddy Michael calls it, a “hop-flavored tea that is best served cold”!

Finally, the magical event starts. The crowd is yelling “The Who, The Who” over and over and over. The stage lights dim, and then they come out. The crowd noise goes down as if they are in awe. The reverence of this event has taken peoples breath away. Pete, Roger, Zak (Ring Starr’s son), and the bass player (have no idea what the heck his name is since he is taking over for the late, great John Entwistle). No introductions were given, as everyone knows IT’S THE FRICKIN’ WHO!

Pete grabs his guitar, Roger grabs the mike, and they open with “Can’t Explain” Everybody goes freaking nuts. The place explodes. People are singing, dancing, crying as they belt out song after song after song. During one of their sets, Pete looked at Roger, he points to some chick in the crowd and says to Roger “Can you hear her?” Stace then yells at Roger saying something to the effect of “What about me? Can you hear me?” Roger looks at her and says “”Yes, I can hear you too love”!!

Over the next three hours they play and play and play. Man, such a show. Pete jumping with his guitar just like he did when he was younger. Stace’s bra ending up on stage (YEAH!!). My hat makes its way over the plane of the stage, but then ends up in the buffer zone between the stage and us. Thankfully, Stace was able to sweet talk the security dude into giving it back!

Another great thing was the crowd mix. You had your older folks who have grown up with them. Then you had really young kids out there mixing it up. Of course, I attribute the young kids being there to the lack of any quality music being made today. Really, music these days sucks ass. Either poor rap, or some punks “remaking” (read 'killing') what was originally a decent song, or just shit music. Ooops ... got to come off my soapbox now.

So, seeming as soon as the concert started, it is sadly over. The crowds start to leave, and we are starting to head out when I see a gate that led to the backstage area was unmanned. Now, I normally would not take advantage of something like this, but something told me to do it. Stacy has always had a saying that “Rules don’t apply to me”, and they don’t. That girl can get away with anything at anytime, and it all works out good. This time, it was my turn. So, I see a girl at the gate, said “Hi”, and all of us walked into the backstage area like we owned the place. (if you look like you belong, you really do). I was headed up on the stage when Stace yelled “Hey Garb, don’t go up there. Let’s head all the way back”. So I did. We made it to the VIP area. I took a piss in the VIP bathroom (a proud moment!). Then we make it all the way back to an area where there was a limo and a custom (but older looking) camper trailer sitting. I see an older guy standing next to it, and I strike up the conversation. “How are you”? It turns out that this guy is from the states, lives over here, and loves The Who. Stace, Michael and I spend the next 30-something minutes chitt-chatting about this and that. Finally, his wife (girlfried/etc.) comes up and wants to go home. That leaves just Stace, Michael and yours truly behind. (add the BOM BOM BOM BOMMMMMM sound bite here!!). So, the three of us are just hanging out WHEN FRICKIN’ PETE TOWNSHEND WALKS OUT!! OH MY GAWD BECKY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I tell him “great show Mr. Townshend”. (he already knew this, ‘cause he IS Pete!). He shakes my hand and asks me “Where are you from”? (OH MY GAWD HE TALKED TO ME!!). I reply “Philadelphia”. Then, my lovely wife (AKA The newest rock photographer in the world) says “Can I get a picture of you”? (dang, good catch on that one….I friggin’ forgot we had the camera. He says “Sure” and he puts his arm on my shoulder. (OH MY GAWD…the same arm connected to the same hand that wrote “Behind Blue Eyes”!!). Now, you may be asking yourself, “self, where the heck is Michael”. Apparently (since I don’t remember this part, when Stace prepped herself to take the photo, Michael went “Oh, I am so getting a part of this action!” and slipped on the right side of Pete. (Mr. Townshend to the rest of you all out there!).
A few seconds later, he was in the car headed to Verona Italy for another show.

All three of us look at each other. Silence. Shock. Then I yell “OH MY GAWD I JUST MET FRICKIN’ PETE TOWNSHEND. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!” For those of you who got a phone call that night know exactly how this phrase sounded. I must have called everybody and then some.

I tried to stay awake for the ride home, but ended up racking out most of the way home, waking up in front of the house. Ahhhh…there really is no place like home. Stace and I still can’t believe it happened, but we do have the photo on the wall to prove it. AND, I believe I have just graduated from the ZOSOGIRL SCHOOL OF RULES DON'T APPLY TO ME with a Master’s in backstage crashing. I owe it all to the best Instructor a guy could ever have!