If I ever...ever...get the bright idea to see a summer movie midnight on opening day for the exclusive sneak peak, please please please, refer me to this blog, or take a wooden fence post with a masonry block nailed on it across my head.
Oh, by the way, I saw Spider-man 3. But everyone and their pimp has already talked about that.
I arrive at the theater about 9pm for the 12:01 showtime. I'm thinking that this is a small theater and there shouldn't be a line. What I wasn't thinking of was that sometimes, teenagers will use any excuse to be out amongst themselves to act like asses. And I should have known this too! I did go to school. I have seen the Greek play on display of the guys trying to act cool to impress the chicks. I have seen the cruel temptresses of teen girls trying to look "hot" and be the center of attention by demanding it. it has NEVER changed...
So I see in line a bunch of guys sitting on a sofa. Yep, sofa. Now, guys only do this in the wild. You rarely see teens all crowded on a tiny sofa unless it's to say "look how cool we are that we brought a sofa to sit on in a line! Aren't we funny?". You don't see a bunch of dudes all crammed on one couch otherwise...too "gay". Y'see, if they're at home watching a game on TV with no one to impress, all too soon, they'll become aware that their thighs are touching, that fingertips brush ever so tenderly across the hair on your buddies arm as you reach for some chips, and you never noticed that Dave had such an angelic face...
That should be enough to make everyone expand their personal space and spread out across the carpet.
I also see in line guys with really bad Spider-man masks. Once again to impress the ladies on how cool and funny they must be. I can tell you from experience, a Spider-man mask is hard to breathe through, hot as hell, and near impossible to see out of. No, I don't parade about the house in one, I'm talking about Halloweens when you got that lil' box costume from the market with the satiny jumpsuit and rubberband half mask. But, THESE people were tolerable, demanding you pay attention to them as you pass by...
Behind me was a few girls and their boyfriends. But, i got the message that although the guys thought they were on a date with them, the girls seemed to only consider they guys as "the dudes that are paying for the movie and my food". Why did these people annoy me the most? They talked....loud. Nothing wrong with talking loud, but when you do it so you hope the whole line will overhear your wit, shatters your skull with the cackle of a adolescent girl laughs, and screams . It wasn't only that they talked loud, it was what the subjects they talked about...
"Sharrie!!!!! Gimmie my fries!!! Gimmie!!! Don't be a bitch!!!! (laughs}"
"No don't!!!! DON'T!!! (teeheehee) I'm gonna kick your ass!!! Giv-it-back!!! NooOOOooo (teeheehee)"
"I'm HUNGRY!!! Go get some food, Eddie!!! You know what I Like!!! NO!! I don't want that!!! Shuddap!!! People here are stupid!!!! (a maniacal laugh that chills the soul)"
While this was happening, I was formulating a plan to use my keys to jam under my eyes and scrape my frontal lobe for a quick lobotomy. I could feel my brain cells dying with every word uttered behind me. I was becoming dumber just being around them.
Then I got my birthday wish! I was hit on the back of the head with a Frisbee! How did they ever know! Not only did I get that once, I got it thrice! It was those kids behind me again.
"Angie!!! Why did you duck the Frisbee?!?! (laugh) You retard!!!! (laughs)"
At that point, I turned into a curmudgeon. I turned to Angie and her friends, "Angie...if you're going to duck a Frisbee being thrown at you each time, at least give me warning , 'kay?"
They line started moving finally at 10pm. Couches were shoved back onto a truck that pulled up, masks were taken off, and the trash receptacle outside was buried in fast food containers, wrappers, and pizza boxes. Getting into the auditorium, i was hoping for my last birthday wish: Not to be seated next to the people behind me. As I sat down, in a theater full of people text messaging small novels, and taking cell phone pics, I thought I was home free, as the seats next to me were empty.
Then those same girls came up and straddled the seats next to me to talk to some other guy friends seated behind me! They said they're making the rounds to say hello to everyone (i,e, a cry for attention they weren't getting from their "dates"), and they decided to hang here and talk (yell) to these dudes, cuz theys be cool. At that point I realize that I was in hell.
"Angie!!!!!! Lets take these seats!!! No ones here and we can talk to these guys though the movie!!!!!" My mind actually splint into to and I could feel a coma coming on.
"What about our seats back there with Eric?!!!! Our stuff is there!!!!"
"Aghhh!!! They can watch our stuff, and we'll move back and forth to visit!!!"
Time for drastic action on my part. I see two guys with popcorn and drinks stopped at the theaters entrance scanning for seats. I immediately stand up and scream, "AH!!! There you guys are!!! I was thinking you'd never make it!!! I saved your seats right here!!!" The girls look to each other, the two latecomers look to each other with confusion, then shrug and decide to take my offer! I am elated as they move to the chairs and the girls vacate them.
Then one of the latecommers says, "Hey, lets get those seats up there at the back...", and they continue up the stairs.
NOOOOOOO!!! SONAVABITCH!!! I then realized I yelled those things outloud, but I didn't care as the girls took back up the straddling of chairs, and occasionally moving back and forth between rows.
I counted five butts (three female), two men's junk, three girlie parts, one elbow, and a cell phone, smacking the back of my head during this whole time, in addition to the three Frisbees, and I wished for the sweet release of death, as the two girls chatted on with the guys and with their cells, and I had a hour to wait for the movie still.
Then someone tapped me on my shoulder: A couple in their twenties. "Are those seats taken?"
I think a tear formed as I said "Bless you..."
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Decompression
Well, I'm back and suffering like a vampire after spending 2 and a half weeks working a 10 hour graveyard shift, 6 days a week. It took me days to get used to the schedule, and the entire time, I was draining out of my sinuses like a down spout in a rainstorm. The screwed up part is: I'm a confirmed insomniac. Change up my routine, and I just...don't...sleep...
When my boss asked me if I could help out a remodel of an Office Depot in Vancouver, like an idiot, I thought, "cool ass! I can take a vacation from my current duties!" Then I realized that I was being volunteered.
Even when I left work for the last time in a few weeks, I saw a penny on the ground and I thought, "oooOOooo! that's good luck!" Only later did I remember what happened to Lincoln. I still don't know why we equate the visage of ol' Abe with being "lucky" I mean, the guy was a big goony ugly man. Y'know when people paint presidential pictures, they always try to handsome up the pic. Big noses get shorted, weak chins get heroically proportioned.
Lincoln's looks like Herman Munster. Makes you wonder what he really looked like!
I won't even go into the theater thing. But as I recall, people say that if a penny is "face down" the "luck"s running out. Gruesome...eww...
But I thought I would need some luck: Last time I did an overnight remodel of a store several years ago, I cracked my spine.
I was putting up a huge 12 foot high shelf, placed six feet from the side wall, so the store can create a lock up area. My brilliant assistant manager insisted that we place all the heavy items on the inside of this wall only, and worry about the outside tomorrow. So, physics decided to make him it's bitch and collapsed the metal wall upon me and two other workers.
When they finally unburied us, they found me bracing the steel wall against the brickwork, making a small hole for the other two. And for my impromptu heroism, I suffered two cracked vertebrae, and i had convince the assistant manager I needed medical attention, and that bones shouldn't feel and sound like a box of crushed cornflakes.
Anyway, your life gets really messed up when you go to work at 7pm, work till 7am, can't sleep cuz you're so wired till 11am. THEN you pass out at 11am and wake up at 6pm, just to have an hour to get ready for work again. You see more night than day. And when I could smell, all I smelled were sweaty co-workers who thought, "why shower?" I, myself, didn't shave for a few days at a time. When I finally shaved for my first official day back at my home Office depot, I cut my face to shreds. Let me tell you, looking non-dapper is dangerous.
I pumped myself up with zingers and caffeine. A BIG no-no for me! But I needed to stay awake. My system is so messed up, and started thinking lunches consisted of breakfast burritos.
And so, I'm back, and WIDE awake at 3:10am
Sucks. Net even any good TV on...
When my boss asked me if I could help out a remodel of an Office Depot in Vancouver, like an idiot, I thought, "cool ass! I can take a vacation from my current duties!" Then I realized that I was being volunteered.
Even when I left work for the last time in a few weeks, I saw a penny on the ground and I thought, "oooOOooo! that's good luck!" Only later did I remember what happened to Lincoln. I still don't know why we equate the visage of ol' Abe with being "lucky" I mean, the guy was a big goony ugly man. Y'know when people paint presidential pictures, they always try to handsome up the pic. Big noses get shorted, weak chins get heroically proportioned.
Lincoln's looks like Herman Munster. Makes you wonder what he really looked like!
I won't even go into the theater thing. But as I recall, people say that if a penny is "face down" the "luck"s running out. Gruesome...eww...
But I thought I would need some luck: Last time I did an overnight remodel of a store several years ago, I cracked my spine.
I was putting up a huge 12 foot high shelf, placed six feet from the side wall, so the store can create a lock up area. My brilliant assistant manager insisted that we place all the heavy items on the inside of this wall only, and worry about the outside tomorrow. So, physics decided to make him it's bitch and collapsed the metal wall upon me and two other workers.
When they finally unburied us, they found me bracing the steel wall against the brickwork, making a small hole for the other two. And for my impromptu heroism, I suffered two cracked vertebrae, and i had convince the assistant manager I needed medical attention, and that bones shouldn't feel and sound like a box of crushed cornflakes.
Anyway, your life gets really messed up when you go to work at 7pm, work till 7am, can't sleep cuz you're so wired till 11am. THEN you pass out at 11am and wake up at 6pm, just to have an hour to get ready for work again. You see more night than day. And when I could smell, all I smelled were sweaty co-workers who thought, "why shower?" I, myself, didn't shave for a few days at a time. When I finally shaved for my first official day back at my home Office depot, I cut my face to shreds. Let me tell you, looking non-dapper is dangerous.
I pumped myself up with zingers and caffeine. A BIG no-no for me! But I needed to stay awake. My system is so messed up, and started thinking lunches consisted of breakfast burritos.
And so, I'm back, and WIDE awake at 3:10am
Sucks. Net even any good TV on...
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Numbness of Creativity
As I sit amongs the various cables, wires, guitars and vox boxes, i'm desperatly trying to fight the creative brainfart. I have about four ideas to toy around with and nothing solid. It doesn't help that i have that I have that Burger King "Big Buckin' Chicken" song in my head.
My week as been kind of a creative brainfart.
I need to try to take a bottle brush and clear out my head. I apologize ahead of time if any of this makes no sense, frightens any of you, creates hidious dreams.
I was eating a sandwich at a blimpys when I overheard a younger man talking to an older one. He said, and I quote, "yeah...when I graduate, i wanna either be a rapper...or a hotel manager." I have to say, i stopped eating and tuned in on this conversation. I wanted to so hear how if you failed to be a rapper, the next logical step to hone your "mad playah skillz", is to be a hotel manager.
Y'know what bugs me? When you call someone on the phone, and they have an answering machine message that plays like this: four minutes of a metal tune you can hardly make out due to being played into a mike the size of a hair folicle, then a monotone sleepy voiced "i'm not here right now, leave a message". What the hell was the mini concert about? At least sing that last part if i am forced to hear your tune.
I wake up almost every morning to the sounds of a Girls Gone Wild infomercial on TV in the background. Somehow, I don't think that could be healthy...
How can you not outrun a Zombie? I was watching a horror movie, and even though these bad posture puppets are moving like an old lady with a walker, they always seem to catch the young living couple that can run, much like there are zombies on their tail. And why can't a zombie eat another zombie? They move the same speed, so the chase would be short.
On almost every set of instruction on preparing a boxed dinner, the final instruction is, "Serve, and enjoy!" Which is excellent, because I was just going to toss it in the garbage after I cooked it, and grow dispondent. And the box cover has the legend "serving suggestion" on the pic of the finished food, I'm assuming so they can't be sued by people feeling they have been shoehorned into having to use a plate to place the product for eating. What would be cool, is if they would put a pic of a girl wearing my strogonoff as a bikini, on the box.
Now THATS a suggestion!
When someone tastes spoiled milk, why do they always do this: "ewwwwghh! taste this!". After that review? But of course! Let me burst a blood vessel in my eye from trying not to retch downing chunkey curds and whey. What am I supposed to say? "Goddamn, that IS bad!". Doesn't it show how much I respect your opinion by just taking your word on that?
My week as been kind of a creative brainfart.
I need to try to take a bottle brush and clear out my head. I apologize ahead of time if any of this makes no sense, frightens any of you, creates hidious dreams.
I was eating a sandwich at a blimpys when I overheard a younger man talking to an older one. He said, and I quote, "yeah...when I graduate, i wanna either be a rapper...or a hotel manager." I have to say, i stopped eating and tuned in on this conversation. I wanted to so hear how if you failed to be a rapper, the next logical step to hone your "mad playah skillz", is to be a hotel manager.
Y'know what bugs me? When you call someone on the phone, and they have an answering machine message that plays like this: four minutes of a metal tune you can hardly make out due to being played into a mike the size of a hair folicle, then a monotone sleepy voiced "i'm not here right now, leave a message". What the hell was the mini concert about? At least sing that last part if i am forced to hear your tune.
I wake up almost every morning to the sounds of a Girls Gone Wild infomercial on TV in the background. Somehow, I don't think that could be healthy...
How can you not outrun a Zombie? I was watching a horror movie, and even though these bad posture puppets are moving like an old lady with a walker, they always seem to catch the young living couple that can run, much like there are zombies on their tail. And why can't a zombie eat another zombie? They move the same speed, so the chase would be short.
On almost every set of instruction on preparing a boxed dinner, the final instruction is, "Serve, and enjoy!" Which is excellent, because I was just going to toss it in the garbage after I cooked it, and grow dispondent. And the box cover has the legend "serving suggestion" on the pic of the finished food, I'm assuming so they can't be sued by people feeling they have been shoehorned into having to use a plate to place the product for eating. What would be cool, is if they would put a pic of a girl wearing my strogonoff as a bikini, on the box.
Now THATS a suggestion!
When someone tastes spoiled milk, why do they always do this: "ewwwwghh! taste this!". After that review? But of course! Let me burst a blood vessel in my eye from trying not to retch downing chunkey curds and whey. What am I supposed to say? "Goddamn, that IS bad!". Doesn't it show how much I respect your opinion by just taking your word on that?
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Foolish days and the Time Released Joke
I don't particulaly like April Fools Day. Everyone always assumes you're full of crap. It's a day where you have to assume anyone who tells you anything, is setting you up. But I now realize that this caution I get over April 1st stems over an incident I was a part of as a child:
I was home from middle school with my bowl of CherriO's and all ready to watch RoboTech and finish up my sugar induced high with some Speed Racer and kimba cartoons, when the phone rang. My sister Diane was calling, sounding a mite frantic. She tells me she needs for me to call our mom, because she at the hospital with a broken ankle, that mysteriously happened at school.
But hey, I'm no fool!! I know it's april first, and Diane wasn't above fooling me. She has successfully in the past. But y'know what? I'm a pre-teen now! I can make my own midday cerial! She ain't putting this one over on me! And I promtly told her "yeah right..." and hung up...
And hours later she came home on crutches and a cast on her leg.
April 1st is the only day where paranoia is actually encouraged. You tell people something, and they automatically assume you're setting them up as a fool. And somehow, we're all supposed to be good natured about this. You made an idiot out of me in public, gimmie a hug you funny funny guy! You're hidious prank has caused me great anguish and cracmed my tailbone...but you say it's april fools day? Well then, touche' my good man! My inner scarring of not trusting you for the chance of a not so astonishing jest will be a padge i'll wear most proudly.
Besides, it's more of a challange to do this any other day, with dry wit and penosh ;)
I propose we change April first from playing pranks on people, to just sneaking up and kicking them on the ass. Anyone can do that without too much prep work. Even the humorless can get in on the fun. And when would you get the chance to put the boot to someone who would otherwise either fire you, or place their fist to your face?
Oh, and you wanna know how to pull a good joke? Back on 12/21/06, I wrote the blog "Pull The String", and it started with the following:
Someone at my work reminded me of this story, and dammit, it would have been absolutly perfect to tell this tale on Halloween! It's weird. it's spoooky. It's true. And it's very much like a henwhey.
According to my sitemeter, 34 people read that post, and that line. Kinda cool, since I really don't know that many people...but NO one asked me, "Whats a Henwhey?"
So, whats a Henwhey?
About two pounds. (rimshot)
I was home from middle school with my bowl of CherriO's and all ready to watch RoboTech and finish up my sugar induced high with some Speed Racer and kimba cartoons, when the phone rang. My sister Diane was calling, sounding a mite frantic. She tells me she needs for me to call our mom, because she at the hospital with a broken ankle, that mysteriously happened at school.
But hey, I'm no fool!! I know it's april first, and Diane wasn't above fooling me. She has successfully in the past. But y'know what? I'm a pre-teen now! I can make my own midday cerial! She ain't putting this one over on me! And I promtly told her "yeah right..." and hung up...
And hours later she came home on crutches and a cast on her leg.
April 1st is the only day where paranoia is actually encouraged. You tell people something, and they automatically assume you're setting them up as a fool. And somehow, we're all supposed to be good natured about this. You made an idiot out of me in public, gimmie a hug you funny funny guy! You're hidious prank has caused me great anguish and cracmed my tailbone...but you say it's april fools day? Well then, touche' my good man! My inner scarring of not trusting you for the chance of a not so astonishing jest will be a padge i'll wear most proudly.
Besides, it's more of a challange to do this any other day, with dry wit and penosh ;)
I propose we change April first from playing pranks on people, to just sneaking up and kicking them on the ass. Anyone can do that without too much prep work. Even the humorless can get in on the fun. And when would you get the chance to put the boot to someone who would otherwise either fire you, or place their fist to your face?
Oh, and you wanna know how to pull a good joke? Back on 12/21/06, I wrote the blog "Pull The String", and it started with the following:
Someone at my work reminded me of this story, and dammit, it would have been absolutly perfect to tell this tale on Halloween! It's weird. it's spoooky. It's true. And it's very much like a henwhey.
According to my sitemeter, 34 people read that post, and that line. Kinda cool, since I really don't know that many people...but NO one asked me, "Whats a Henwhey?"
So, whats a Henwhey?
About two pounds. (rimshot)
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Riding the Confusion Unity
Synchonicity: an acausual connecting principle (it's Jung "thing")
It's the most amazing thing to share a thought with someone at the same exact time. A emotion or reaction. It can be funny or thoughtful, or even scary. But it's an amazing synergistic moment. Now imagine that multiplied my 35000 people.
ALL at the same exact time.
Back in the 80's, MTV was just starting out. It showed the same 20 videos, and it seemed like every 5 minutes was a live Rush clip or a Flock of Seagulls. But Martha Quinn was dorky/awesome (I think she's now working as a pool cleaner), and it ruled the world. So, of course, MTV thought they could do anything, and decided to sponsor a huge world tour. And that was the Police with their "Synchronicity" tour. Ironic, huh?
Let em tell you, if there was a way to screw up a concert, MTV found a way. Go for cheap venue: the tour started at Hollywood park, a horse race track. that meant the stage was at the finish line score board with 85% of the seats west of that. Of course, that's where I was seated, and I watched the whole show standing on a folding chair with my neck craned 45% right the whole 3 hours.
And the nice thing about Hollywood park, was that the promoters decided it was easier to funnel 35000 people through one 8 foot wide corridor, as to maintain control of the rush. What they instead had was a makeshift meatgrinder for humans. People were crushed, fainting, trying to escape through the mens room windows. It was wonderful, and the fumes of big sweating unwashed cattle/people started to burn my brain.
But this isn't a story about the Police, or even the park. It's a story about 35000 people sharing a moment, and it's about the 3rd opening act: Terri Nunn and Berlin. The Original Berlin. Riding on the metro stuff (all you young'ns, respect your new wave roots and look it up in iTunes).
Simple Minds opened up, and they played the same song seven times, or so it sounded like. Then the Fixx hit the stage, and that was cool, Finally, the last opening band was ready after a 30 minute delay, Berlin was on...as was of course the song, "Riding the Metro". And big cheers was erupting at the songs end.
Terri Nunn took the mike and did the customary rockstar pumping up of the crowd, and they were all eating it up...
"How are we all doing toniiiiiiiigggghhhttttt!!!"
The crowd roars.
"Are we having a good tiiiimmmmeee?!!"
The crowd roars once again.
Then, she did something I have never experienced ever again. With one simple incoherent rant, she joined up 35000 minds into one gestalt! Everyone acted as an individual, yet as a hive mind! We all were in the same boat. A world united with only one word. One message. A universe as one!
And she let it fly:
"I can feel all your energy shooting through my body and coming out of my fingertips at all of yoooooouuuu!!!!"
Absolute dead silence! 35000 people just...stopped! A perfect pregnant pause. The stadium was quiet for one brief second as the only sound heard of the magnified pulse of spinal fluid as 35000 people looked to one another, seeking anyone, anyone, who understood what the friken hell she said! I looked to my left and was met with the mirrored look of incomprehension. I looked to my right, and was met with the same lost look in my neighbors eyes. behind me, and in front, the same. we were all looking for someone who got a clue what that was all about!
We were all floundering and looking to our brotha-man for help! Then everyone all at once looked to the stage in utter bafflement and uttered a simple word to themselves under their collective breaths. 35000 people whispering the same exact word at the same exact time with the same exact weight of purpose...
the stadium broke the silence with the collected incredibly clear murmur magnified thousands of times:
........................................".....huh?"
35000 people became one confused entity!!! And instantly, there was a huge air of awkwardness the size of Texas between the audience, and the stage. As if someone farted.
Now, can you ever say that has ever happend to you, or that it can ever happen again in the same way?! I am so proud that at least I was at one point in my life, connected with the cosmos.
Oh, and Berlin broke up soon afterwards. I'd like to think we all made that happen with the power of confused unification.
It's the most amazing thing to share a thought with someone at the same exact time. A emotion or reaction. It can be funny or thoughtful, or even scary. But it's an amazing synergistic moment. Now imagine that multiplied my 35000 people.
ALL at the same exact time.
Back in the 80's, MTV was just starting out. It showed the same 20 videos, and it seemed like every 5 minutes was a live Rush clip or a Flock of Seagulls. But Martha Quinn was dorky/awesome (I think she's now working as a pool cleaner), and it ruled the world. So, of course, MTV thought they could do anything, and decided to sponsor a huge world tour. And that was the Police with their "Synchronicity" tour. Ironic, huh?
Let em tell you, if there was a way to screw up a concert, MTV found a way. Go for cheap venue: the tour started at Hollywood park, a horse race track. that meant the stage was at the finish line score board with 85% of the seats west of that. Of course, that's where I was seated, and I watched the whole show standing on a folding chair with my neck craned 45% right the whole 3 hours.
And the nice thing about Hollywood park, was that the promoters decided it was easier to funnel 35000 people through one 8 foot wide corridor, as to maintain control of the rush. What they instead had was a makeshift meatgrinder for humans. People were crushed, fainting, trying to escape through the mens room windows. It was wonderful, and the fumes of big sweating unwashed cattle/people started to burn my brain.
But this isn't a story about the Police, or even the park. It's a story about 35000 people sharing a moment, and it's about the 3rd opening act: Terri Nunn and Berlin. The Original Berlin. Riding on the metro stuff (all you young'ns, respect your new wave roots and look it up in iTunes).
Simple Minds opened up, and they played the same song seven times, or so it sounded like. Then the Fixx hit the stage, and that was cool, Finally, the last opening band was ready after a 30 minute delay, Berlin was on...as was of course the song, "Riding the Metro". And big cheers was erupting at the songs end.
Terri Nunn took the mike and did the customary rockstar pumping up of the crowd, and they were all eating it up...
"How are we all doing toniiiiiiiigggghhhttttt!!!"
The crowd roars.
"Are we having a good tiiiimmmmeee?!!"
The crowd roars once again.
Then, she did something I have never experienced ever again. With one simple incoherent rant, she joined up 35000 minds into one gestalt! Everyone acted as an individual, yet as a hive mind! We all were in the same boat. A world united with only one word. One message. A universe as one!
And she let it fly:
"I can feel all your energy shooting through my body and coming out of my fingertips at all of yoooooouuuu!!!!"
Absolute dead silence! 35000 people just...stopped! A perfect pregnant pause. The stadium was quiet for one brief second as the only sound heard of the magnified pulse of spinal fluid as 35000 people looked to one another, seeking anyone, anyone, who understood what the friken hell she said! I looked to my left and was met with the mirrored look of incomprehension. I looked to my right, and was met with the same lost look in my neighbors eyes. behind me, and in front, the same. we were all looking for someone who got a clue what that was all about!
We were all floundering and looking to our brotha-man for help! Then everyone all at once looked to the stage in utter bafflement and uttered a simple word to themselves under their collective breaths. 35000 people whispering the same exact word at the same exact time with the same exact weight of purpose...
the stadium broke the silence with the collected incredibly clear murmur magnified thousands of times:
........................................".....huh?"
35000 people became one confused entity!!! And instantly, there was a huge air of awkwardness the size of Texas between the audience, and the stage. As if someone farted.
Now, can you ever say that has ever happend to you, or that it can ever happen again in the same way?! I am so proud that at least I was at one point in my life, connected with the cosmos.
Oh, and Berlin broke up soon afterwards. I'd like to think we all made that happen with the power of confused unification.
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