I turned left and the sign of the MGM Grand Garden Arena loomed large before me, begging me to come in. Metal detectors were all lined up and the line of fans was long. Goosebumps covered my skin. I reached into my breast pocket and got my Willy Wonka
Golden Ticket out and anticipated the looks of security personnel as I approached the metal detectors.
I stood in front of the walk-through machine and shrugged my shoulders - my vest covered in metal pins and paraphernalia - and started to take it off. But the nice guards on the other side just smiled and chuckled and looked at me and told me I could keep it on, waving me through. So I walked through the detector and it did not go off, making me think the machines were there as a visual deterrent rather than actually functioning. I got the wand treatment and the alarm went off from my Zippo cigarette lighter in my right pocket. I produced it, again perplexed why the machine had not gone off and was waved inside.
At which time I was even more excited - and felt a special sense of relief, so please let me explain. Tonight was different for many reasons - and tonight I was not going to be a "Working Man." I was just going to be a fan.
I took 28 rolls of film during six previous shows with great results. I spent hundreds of hours working on the website posting photos, stories, surfing the Internet for periodical articles, reviews, previews, making new splash pages and editing hundreds and hundreds of images and responding to hundreds of emails from fans who had seen other shows during the tour so far, who were telling me their stories or asking me to tell them some of mine.
In a bedside table drawer in Merrie's room 17 floors above the arena was my most prized possession - my Canon Sureshot point-and-shoot 35mm camera and six rolls of unexposed film. And it was there on purpose. During the events of the day, alone and wandering the streets of Las Vegas at 6 a.m. and in the MGM Grand, getting my ticket and partying with Merrie - it just became clear to me that I had done enough - enough
web sites, enough editing, enough taking photos, enough writing, enough emails, enough waiting for tickets, enough socializing with fans, enough road and air travel - I had enough of everything - except seeing a show. I had not seen a Rush show in three tours without my camera going inside with me. And tonight was just for me. So I left all that stuff behind for the evening, as hard as that really was for me to do.
Seeing a show completely with no responsibilities, no worries, no paranoia about having my camera and film confiscated or getting kicked out of a venue. Seeing a show with nothing to concentrate on except the music and the presentation. And when I walked into the arena I felt strangely at peace with this, but somehow naked. I didn't have to go to the men's room to load film or adjust clothing or relieve certain body parts of unnecessary pressure from hard objects pressing against them. And you know what? It was really strange. And really wonderful!
Since it was a new venue for me and I felt so much freedom to move about without the fear of something dropping out of my pocket or my jeans - or canisters of film stuffed into my sneakers and hurting my toes - I just moved about freely, exploring the innards of the arena, looking at how crowded the swag shacks were with merchandise selling wildly and excited fans literally fighting over one another to get to the front of the line to make their purchases. The frenzy at the swag booths this tour has been unlike any I have ever seen on any tour prior to R30. Show after show, Neil's new book was sold out by intermission, certain shirts become unavailable - either sold out or available only in small or medium sizes. Pins and buttons were hard to come by - someone was making a killing from all the stuff for sale from the shows all the way from Nashville to Toronto.
It was so crowded in the main circle hallway around the arena that it took me about three minutes to get through the curtains of the doors leading to the arena. I figured it would be a whole lot easier to get to my seat from inside the arena than from
around it. The beer and swag lines stretched from one side of the hall to the other about 20 yards apart all around the inside of the venue, or so it seemed. I personally always get a large sprite at the beginning of a show. Don’t ask why, because I don’t know why, it’s just one of those things. The remains of my pineapple vodka drink made it especially tasty. Can you imagine walking into a venue with your own alcoholic drink? It was pretty unbelievable.
It was fantastic to walk through those curtains and see an indoor arena. The last time I saw a Rush show indoors was at the Staples Center in Los Angeles during Vapor Trails. Before the Radio City Music Hall shows were announced this year the Vegas show was going to be the only North American date indoors. That fit fantastically with my R30 Tour plans of going to different venues that I had never been to before. I was also completely relieved that there was no sun, no heat and no humidity and I didn't have to drink 10 bottles of water before the show to stay hydrated. I was heading to the floor, first section and an air conditioned seat. I was a really lucky guy, grinning from ear to ear, truly in my element now and more than happy to show the ushers who were checking my ticket just exactly where the ticket would take me.
As I walked past the sound board on the way to the front of the stage I saw Howard (Ungerleider, the lighting director) and as I passed him I yelled out, "Hey Howard! We're indoors tonight! I can't wait to see the lights go off tonight! Do it UP!"
He probably thought I was a lunatic. I wouldn't blame him a bit if he thought that, or worse. I didn't care. I am a fanatic! What I said was exactly what was going through my head and it seemed as though each one of my steps was being remembered for the rest of my life at this show. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion now. And as
always even when I am alone I feel comfortable and confident - especially when I'm wearing my Rush jacket. I'm never alone because of the jacket - people look at me, stop me to talk and if someone looks at me and does not say anything most of the time I will stop and just let them look at it. I had more time to do this and to hand out the business cards I have that promote echoesofoldapplause.com because I didn't have my camera. I didn’t have to get anything else ready or be at my seat early.
It's 7:45 p.m. and we have 15 minutes to launch. I always like handing out the echoesofoldapplause cards to people who are sitting in the first 10 rows in all three sections of a venue. It may be a biased to say that some of the biggest fans are sitting in these seats, but I can tell you from experience that this is true to some extent. Some people take the card and are happy and look at my jacket, some people just take the card and others refuse or do not want the card. It is always an interesting mix of reactions. And you never know who you are going to meet.
Without the camera both my hands are free to clap and cheer and hold up and air drum. I'm not looking around for security, waiting for some flashlight to illuminate me and bust me. I know the set list by heart and tonight I am enjoying being a Rush fan and not a webmaster or photographer. But that pesky photographer inside me kept trying to come out when a great lighting or video design would present itself. I laughed at myself because it was an involuntary reflex for me to want to take photos. Admittedly I found myself reaching for the missing camera in my pocket a couple of times during the first set.