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ON THE ROAD WITH... FREAK MTV2 HEADBANGERS BALL TOUR
@ HOUSE OF BLUES / APRIL 7, 2004
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a horribly lucky bastard seeing as my line of work includes hanging out with celebrities and then talking about it on the radio or here in The Midwest BEAT. I admit that. I also admit that, after doing it for over ten years, a lot of the excitement that accompanies meeting famous people has long since waned and I rarely find myself even remotely worked up, even when hanging with a Russell Crowe or a James Hetfield. That said, I was stumbling out of Damage Plan’s dressing room after a few double-shots of Black Tooth with Dimebag on my way to watch Drowning Pool. The task was simple enough; out the door, down the hallway past the opera boxes, and in through the back door of the Foundations Room to the crapper. It was an easy string of maneuvers that ended up turning completely weird. It started immediately with a heavy thud into a door I thought opened out, sloshing beer out of my cup and drenching the front of my pants. Pulling the door open, I stepped through and found myself standing face to face with none other than Elwood Blues himself, Dan Akroyd. “Looks like you had an accident,” he shouted as he pointed out my beer-soaked jeans to the snickering crowd around him. “The bathrooms are over there,” he motioned as “Bodies” started up from the stage below. “Right,” I blurted as I finally snapped back into reality, and darted off in the direction he’d indicated. There’s nothing like being humiliated by a friggin’ Ghostbuster, and once safely inside a stall I wondered if I could ever face myself in the mirror again. The encounter had sobered me up a bit and I was back to my normal self by the time Hatebreed was taking the stage. I’d spent twenty minutes running my jeans over the hand-dryer while a steady stream of people came through to do their business and stare at me with my jacket wrapped around my naked waist. I left the restroom with a renewed vigor. I wasn’t about to leave the situation as it stood, so I headed back for the box but found it empty when I arrived. “They all went down to the restaurant,” a guard told me. “You can find them…” I was off before he could finish the sentence. Somehow there was a slice of pride at stake here and I wasn’t gonna roll over easily. I slipped past the hostess easily with a quick, “I’m with the Akroyd party,” and was standing next to him within seconds. “Hey partner,” he said as he turned to face me once again. “Got everything taken care of I see.” “I just wanted you to know that it was beer that I had spilled on myself,” I started, now feeling a bit less intimidated, “and I didn’t want you going home thinking that there were urine soaked lunatics running around your club.” “Well, I greatly appreciate that,” he laughed while extending his hand, “beer soaked lunatics I can live with.” “Well, I’m gonna sit down with my friends here so it was nice meeting you,” he continued as he turned away indicating my welcome had run it’s course. “Enjoy the show.” Thinking quickly, I grabbed one of the heavy white plates from the table next to me. It was a big sucker with House of Blues written in blue letters across the top and Unity in Diversity written across the bottom. “Can you sign this for me?” I asked. His shoulders drooped at the sound of my voice still behind him but he turned around anyway. “Where’d you get this from?,” he half jokingly asked as he pulled a Sharpee out of his coat pocket. “Off the used rack down at the gift shop,” I replied. “Very reasonably priced I must say.” “I’ll bet,” he smiled as he signed it and handed it back to me. “Now go enjoy the show,” he said a bit firmer as he turned away once again. Back upstairs I secured a position at the bar and downed a victory shot of Crown while admiring my new plate. Hatebreed was still on stage and Damage Plan was next so it was all good. Victory had been clinched from the jaws of humility. | ||
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I’m not sure if it was the Black Tooth coursing through my veins or the shock of seeing Dr. Detroit standing in front of me as “Step Up” played in the background, but there I stood, frozen like a deer in headlights.