Whole Lolla Goodness

Here's the long-awaited recap of Lollapalooza and the days since. Thanks to Christoff, Chenandler Bong, Jester, and Louis Daguerre for the photographs.

Friday 8/3
Cast: me, Jester, Ari, Liz, Kyla, Christoff, Chenandler Bong

The first day of Lolla (that's what the kids call it) started with The Fratellis, a bunch of Scottish blokes who know how to rock. Their songs are catchy (think Arctic Monkeys with some Beatles and '70s glam mixed in), and I think they were funny, but I couldn't understand a damn word.

Within two hours of being at Lollapalooza, Ari threw her underwear away.

We chilled out for a while, watching Sun Volt, as we awaited Christoff's arrival. He showed up, and we all got some eats. We were heading to Polyphonic Spree, but heard the intoxicating blues harmonica of Charlie Musselwhite on a side stage, and thus, stayed there.

After that, it was the Electric Six, a tongue-in-cheek, rollicking, fun-loving bar band. I enjoyed them. Christoff found the lead singer to be annoying. While they played, it was reassuring to see a 15-year-old smoking Marlboro Reds, knowing that he'll be dead in 30 years.

Next up was The Rapture, a dance/punk group. They were okay.

From there, we went to get a good spot for The Black Keys, and heard a little of G. Love & Special Sauce while we waited. The Black Keys put on a good show as usual.

We moved up after The Black Keys to get a good spot for Ben Harper, and stayed put, listening to Femi Kuti & The Positive Force. There was a group of thirtysomething preppy douchbags in front of us. One was wearing Croakies, and another guy was wearing a pastel pink button-down shirt with black athletic shorts.
Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals put on a hell of a show. I would definitely see them again. During "Burn One Down," the cloud of pot smoke hovering over the crowd was pretty impressive.

Then Eddie Vedder came out and sang an acoustic duet with Ben: Bob Dylan's "Masters of War." Very nice.

From all accounts, Daft Punk (who was the other headliner Friday night) put on a hell of a show as well, complete with a giant pyramid on stage.

After the shows, Christoff, Ari, and I went to Wellington's for a couple beers. While there, none other than Dan "My Former Best Friend, But Then We Had a Big Falling Out Senior Year of High School" Hucker came up to our table. He and I made our amends, so that was good. Christoff and Ari headed to the Golden Apple, while Hucker and I got sloshed and caught up.

Saturday 8/4
Cast: me, Jester, Ari, Christoff, Chenandler Bong, La' Maze, Tron, Joe

One lesson I learned (that was apparently not obvious to me) was that andouille hash is not the perfect breakfast before a long day of outdoor concert viewing. Live and learn, I guess.

Saturday was overcast. We tried to get down to Grant Park in time to see Pete Yorn, but showed up about halfway into his show. Jessie and Ari went to that, while Christoff and I headed to Silverchair, where we met up with Chenandler Bong. In addition, La' Maze "What The Students Want" Johnson met up with us, looking as much like Morpheus as ever. He jetted halfway into the set and was never seen again. Nonetheless, it was a pleasure.

Silverchair was pretty good, and they didn't even play "Tomorrow."

After Silverchair, we attempted to see Cold War Kids, but it was too packed, so we had to subject ourselves to Motion City Soundtrack. More like Motion Shitty Soundtrack. I think the lead singer mentioned their soon-to-be-released album 15 times. I don't like emo or screamo, or whatever the fuck genre it is.

Three tickets to Lollapalooza: $570
Seven beers: $49
Five hits off stranger's joint that may have been laced with angel dust: free
Taking a break from motherhood: priceless

After that, we went to see Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah. We parked ourselves along the railing behind the wheelchair section, by the sound booth. It was a great spot, aside from the fact that the handicapped port-a-potty was about 10 feet in front of us. Better yet, some drunk and/or stoned girl tried to solicit Christoff's help in getting a boost over the fence to use the handicapped bathroom. The best part was that the security guards waited for her to jump the fence to stop her. She failed to understand why she wasn't allowed to use that particular port-a-potty, and she left a flip flop behind in protest. Musically, CYHASY was fine, but the lead singer's eerie, woman-like voice was too much for me, so we went to get a good spot for The Hold Steady.

We got a pretty good spot for The Hold Steady, and they put on a great show, as usual. Craig Finn was his usual spasmodic self, The Kub kicked ass on guitar, Franz was dressed in a 3-piece suit, and the bass player and drummer were there too.

We chilled out during Yeah Yeah Yeahs, as it had begun to rain. Then we got some food.
Chicken on a stick from Lee's Concessions is a good idea, but getting the hot sauce and spicy mustard is not, especially considering the aforementioned andouille hash.

We then went to stake out a place in a thicket of trees while we listened to the last half of Patti Smith. We did not venture far enough to see her on the big screen, since we would have turned to stone. Or did we?

Interpol was the headliner Saturday night (along with Muse on the other side -- how Muse or Interpol got headlining spots was unclear to any of us). The drizzle and Interpol's corpselike stage show did not provide us with enough incentive to stay for more than 36 minutes.On our way home, we stopped at Vaughan's for a "couple" beers. At Vaughan's, we learned that all of the gay guys that work with Christoff think he has "great DSLs." At least things won't be awkward next time he runs into one of them, and the guy is just staring at Christoff's mouth. Jester and I left Vaughan's around 1:15, and I was finally able to make amends with the andouille hash and the hot sauce and spicy mustard.

Sunday 8/5
Cast: me, Jester, Ari, Christoff, Chenandler Bong, Floppy Burrito, Tron, Will, Gabe, Shane, Christy, Magdog

As soon as I stepped out of the door on Sunday, I knew that I was in for a long, hot day. The air was thick, damp, and suffocating. I probably drank close to 200 ounces of water on Sunday, and sweat out at least that much.

Christoff and I got to Grant Park before the gates opened. When said gates did open, there were people sprinting to be in the front row for Pearl Jam (who would be playing a mere 8 1/2 hours later).

Meanwhile, Christoff and I saw was Juliette & The Licks, fronted by Hollywood screen siren Juliette Lewis (My Step Mother is an Alien, Mixed Nuts, Catch and Release), who put on a hell of a show, dressed as some sort of leather-clad Native American. They played punk-inspired grrrrl rock. I would definitely see them again.

After that, we headed to the stage where Pearl Jam would be playing. We staked out a spot about 15 yards diagonal from the left side of the stage. This meant that we would be seeing every band that would be playing on the AT&T Stage that day.

First up was Dax Riggs. Most of his songs seemed to be centered around suicide, the end of the world, and ways to feel terrible about life. This was the density of the crowd during Dax Riggs. It did not stay like that.

Next was hip hop artist Lupe Fiasco, who provided a much-needed energy boost for the sweat-soaked crowd.

After that was Kings of Leon, which I was pretty pumped about seeing. They put on a great show, and Eddie Vedder came out for their last song, "Slow Night, So Long," breaking two tambourines in the process, so that was cool.

After Kings of Leon, I ventured out of the masses to get a couple ales. In doing so, I saw some dude OD, complete with eyes rolled in the back of his head. It was pretty sweet. Fear not, a couple splashes of cold water, and he returned to being just stoned out of his mind.

By this time, it was standing room only and it would remain so for the rest of the night. My Morning Jacket was the last pre-Pearl-Jam act to play on the AT&T Stage. They put on a really good show. For many of their songs, the Chicago Youth Symphony backed them. Their final song was a cover of Curtis Mayfield's "Move On Up," which was pretty cool.

Jessie hates talented children.

No attempts to leave were made after My Morning Jacket ended. The sea of people was reaching six figures, stretching back the entire length of the field. Here are some shots of the crowd before Pearl Jam started.At least one of those people had taken a shit in a port-a-potty and taken something with him. Seriously, this guy had toilet paper hanging from his shorts for the better part of four hours.

In addition, a sweaty, sleeveless man, who we have since affectionately dubbed "Unfrozen Caveman," was standing by us. At first, we were frightened of him, but he turned out to be a decent guy, later punching some dude who tripped and touched Ari's boob.

I realized I had to pee before Pearl Jam went on. The empty water bottles and beer cups became more and more alluring as each minute passed. Meanwhile, Christoff had snuck in a bottle of red wine, which by this point had been brought to a nice rolling boil after 8 hours in 90-degree heat and 95% humidity. Gabe was thoroughly impressed with the whole thing.

Pearl Jam put on an awesome show. They played lots of songs.The highlight for me was when Eddie Vedder took advantage of a captive audience of 100,000 to tell people to boycott BP Amoco because they are trying to get legislation passed that would allow them to pollute Lake Michigan (which is where Chicago gets its drinking water). He even wrote a song about it, called "Don't Go BP Amoco."

The second encore was pretty cool. It started out with an acoustic anti-war song with just Eddie and Ben Harper.

Then, they finished with an all-star jam of Neil Young's "Keep On Rockin' in the Free World," complete with Ben Harper, Perry Farrell, Dennis Rodman (who hoisted Eddie onto his shoulders), and Lance Armstrong.

When the show ended, I had about 60 ounces of urine waiting to exit my body. How do I know it was 60 ounces, you ask? Well, I knew that the port-a-potties would be too long of a wait, so everyone formed a wall around me while I pissed, filling up an empty 22-ounce beer cup. And then an empty 20-ounce water bottle. And then another beer cup. It was glorious.

Monday 8/6
At about 12:23pm, I was in the bathroom at work. Someone came in, peed in one of the urinals, didn't flush, and then walked straight out without so much as a rinsing of hands, barely zipping up in time to open the door. Urinal phantoms?

Monday night, or possibly early Tuesday morning, I had another one of my standard weird dreams. I was in my brother's room at my mom's house, which was carpeted for some reason (it has hardwood floors in non-dream-world). While I didn't think much of the carpeting at first, it turned out to be very helpful given what was to happen. For reasons that remain unclear, Anna Nicole Smith was also in the room with me -- and not the post-TrimSpa Anna Nicole that died. We're talking about the giant, drugged-up mongoloid that graced our TV screens on The Anna Nicole Show. In my dream, she was alive and unable to listen to reason. I may have been her manager, press liaison, or simply a confidante. Whatever I was, I tried to leave the room and she tackled me, and then proceeded to sit on my back, refusing to let me up. The fact that her mongoloid breasts were near my face did very little to appease the suffocating. Eventually, I wrestled my way out. I was so distraught that I ate a raw egg. As some of you know, my mom's house does not have air conditioning. The heat was so unbearable that it began to cook the egg in my mouth. While the risk of salmonella decreased, I found myself with a new problem: the egg had solidified in my windpipe and I was unable to breathe. As I went down the stairs, I passed unfamiliar faces who apparently knew me by name, but failed to recognize the universal signal for "I'm choking," instead thinking that I was putting my own hands around my own neck as part of some hilarious gag. When I got to the kitchen, there were probably 5-7 people there, none of them responding to my choking signal. The kept asking me what was wrong, and I kept pointing to my mouth because I couldn't speak because my windpipe was blocked by the raw egg that had become cooked in my throat. "If you tell us what's wrong, maybe we can help you," my mom explained. Finally, I bent myself over a chair to perform the Heimlich on myself, and a nice young woman realized what I was doing, so she came over and have me the Heimlich, catapulting a small omelette across the kitchen. Everyone let out an "ohhhh, you were choking," and I grabbed some water. I also had a dream that Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras formed a doubles team. Watch out Woodruff and Woodbridge!

Tuesday 8/7 through Thursday 8/9
I was unavailable much of those days because I had to return some videotapes.

Friday 8/10
Well, Vandaley Industries' run to the championship ended in the title game with a 6-4 loss. This would have been easier to swallow had 5 of the other team's 6 runs not come on 2 errors by outfielders not named Andrew.

After the game, the team drowned its sorrows at 7-10 Lounge, and then Christoff, Gregerson, Dan Weeser*, Chenandler Bong, and I headed to Chi-Town Tap for some $1 bottles.

Within minutes of arriving at Chi-Town Tap, I encountered a gregarious, overserved, bearded Galvestonian known only as "Texas Dave." He was instantly enamored with the fact that, like him, I am an Astros fan. As a sign of gratitude for our mutual fanaticism, Texas Dave informed me that there would soon be "like ten hot chicks" at his table. I thanked him for his generosity, but showed him my wedding ring and went to sit back down at our table. As threatened, a gaggle of women soon entered the back room, surrounding Texas Dave. Of the ten, approximately zero were "hot," and most of them were simply average looking, with dudes, or both. About twenty minutes later, Texas Dave offered up one of his minions to us, sending a tall, heavyset fellatrix to our table, presumably with strict orders to do whatever we told her to do. Unanimously, we sent her away after a few minutes of painful small talk. So that's what it feels like to be on the other side. A half hour later, Texas Dave approached our table, aghast that we turned down his cum dumpster. Texas Dave does not respect the bounds of marriage, which make sense, since ain't no woman that can tie Texas Dave down.

Saturday 8/11
I went out to Naperville for a night out with The Ocho (minus Gemkeezi). Burritos were consumed at dinner. Drinks were consumed before, during, and after dinner. As expected, the night ended with some poker playing while watching double deckers. I also received 2 giant itch mite bites on my back, although Marv Albert is still a person of interest.

Sunday 8/12 to Tuesday 8/14
Extensive weeping. Rest in peace, Merv. Rest in fucking peace. You too, Rirruto.