Fear and Loathing in Overland Park pt 112

NIN at Starlight.

EDIT: I apologize for the length, but apparently
the blog didn't want to post properly.
Which is why I had to get creative to fit it all in.

And what a night was had by all. But let's get down in it real quick
and discuss why it took so long to get to.

First thing: last Wednesday was one of those days where calling
this Fear and Loathing makes perfect sense. To me at least.
So let me paint
you a picture.

We all know Murphy's Law.

Anything that can happen will.

I'm going to blog about it someday, but just so you know,
Murphy's Law happened in a big way.

Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

The day started absolutely perfectly and didn't have any big
major events.

No earthquake.

No tornado.

No real rain.

My wife had set an eye appointment for her and myself
so that was going to be a thorn in my side right before NIN,
but NIN! NIN!

So went to work. Traveled alone. Road was pretty vacant
as I drove to work.

The long roads heading into town seemed
desolate.

Strange.

No rain. No movement.

Just seemed like it was me and me alone on the road.

I took a half day at work to prep for NIN.

To get myself Physical and a little ready to party.

I'm going to stop using NIN songs to write my blog
as of right now. The Wretched.

So worked my half day, and then noticed low on gas.
Fine. Whatever. No big deal.

Gas was steadily on the rise, but as I talked of previously,
what am I supposed to do?

Complain about it? Throw a temper tantrum? Or buy my
gas and drive off?

Bought gas. Drove off.

Went and got lunch. Things seemed to get a little better
from there.

Things looking up. Desolation slowly flows out of me as
I head to my apartment.

I get home and get prepared for the eye doctor visit.

What a scorcher that was going to be.

It had been a little while (over a year) since my last one,
and I wasn't looking forward to it.

Head into town, down Mission road heading toward the Corinth
area, and find the place. Gerry Optical.

Headed inside. Dressed ready for the concert (and by that,
I do not mean wearing a NIN shirt.
Nor was I wearing plastic Hot Topic clothing, black nails,
or knee highs. I was wearing proper concert attire and a
jacket since I knew it was going to get cold or rain all over me).

Step inside the Corinth Gerry Optical.

Look around.

An old man gives me a weird glare as if I'm the weirdest
thing he'd seen all day.

I want to laugh.

I want to tell him that he should go to this NIN concert
and see that I'm the furthest thing from the weirdest thing
he'll see today.

Maybe weirdest insides. But not on the outside.

He tells me I'm at the wrong place.

My happiness at being early is quickly defeated and turned
into something worse.

Something terrible.

Something monstrous.

So I leave, heading back up Mission toward 75th street to
head to Gerry Optical near 75th and Antioch.

Where I had just passed after getting off the highway.

Hey, I like the scenic route.

I get there right on time.

Get my eye visit done.

Bing bang boom. No surprises.

My eyes are fine.

Nothing new.

Nothing exciting to report.

Then it starts raining. Little by little, the rains start to fall.

My wife gets her eyes checked (at the right place, as
I was decent enough to call her and tell her
the right Gerry Optical to go
to), and she needs glasses.

Money.

Money.

Money.

So more money spent on new and exciting things,
and I'm going to a concert.

I've got a 30 pack in the back of my car, sitting in a nice cooler
with tons of ice, and I'm ready.

The rain lets up, and I head to my friend's house to pick him up.

Or at least, carpool/caravan what have you.

Me and two of mis amigos head to the concert.

Murphy's Law doesn't seem so bad anymore.

Have you ever seen PCU?

Where Piven yells at Favreau, telling him not to be
that guy?

The one who wears the concert shirt?

There were hundreds and probably thousands of those
guys.

And those girls.

Wearing the shirts.

Filling the seats.

One discussion had between my friends and I was about
concert-sitters.

Those people who are either too cool for school to stand
during the concert or just too damn lazy or too damn
boring.

There were hundreds upon thousands of those too.

Pet peeves galore.

As I'm still painting a picture (mainly to make certain people
jealous of my going and their not going), there are
still certain things to talk about.

Two guys from Iowa were there.

One had a ticket.

The other didn't.

They carpooled to KC just to see NIN and brought their german
shepherd puppy.

The dog was the shit.

And literally took a coiled shit in the parking lot of Starlight.

Glorious.

Hilarious.

More weirdness.

A Hari Krishna tried to sell one of his books to one of my
friends.

I was too busy drinking to pay attention to his religion
and his book sales.

He didn't even want to look at me.

Me?

I wanted to grab him by the back of the head and shake
the religion right out of him.

Open his eyes to the world around and how no one going
to a NIN concert that night should be interested in his teachings.

Unless they were high.

Or playing a trick on him.

So we finish the majority of the 30 pack (3 guys) and head
into the show.

Street Sweeper has started.

If you don't know who Street Sweeper is, let me just say
one name:

Tom Morello.

The lead guitarist of both Rage against the Machine and
Audioslave and the guy behind Night Watchman is now
the lead guitarist for Street Sweeper.

The lead singer is Boots or Boo somebody or other.

He looked and acted like a cross between Lenny Kravitz
and Zach de la Rocha.

But why would anyone care about Street Sweeper?

They spread their message of peace through rock music.

Strange I know.

But they tried to get everyone to text them something
or other to get on a list to get news and updates about
how we can help save the world.

I just came to see Morello play.

And he did.

Very well.

So well in fact that the only thing I could decide then
and there was that the only other band I saw at Starlight
previously, The White Stripes, needed to have a guitar-off
with Tom Morello.

Jack White vs Tom Morello

That would be a guitar-off that would literally shake the sky
and make our faces melt off.

Watching Tom do his thing, sans hat, was a little weird.

But awe-inspiring.

And depressing at the same time.

I knew at that moment, same as when I watched the White
Stripes, that I would never be as good as Morello.

I would just pale in comparison.

The main event: NIN.

All night, we waited.

And waited.

Patiently trying to figure out who would be the backing band.

Would it be a reunion for the original NIN?

This was their last show so it was possible.

Would it be a consortium of weirdoes that he'd always
wanted to tour with and play with before he trailed off into
the horizon?

See above.

It was neither.

It was a standard backing band. It was his choice.

Fink on guitar, and two others who did a fantastic job but
never really heard of before.

He opened with Wave Goodbye, a new song (?) that pretty
much is summed up by the title.

That immediately broke into Terrible Lie and immediately
kicked the night's ass and made me happy as all hell
to be there.

He played songs like The Wretched.

March of the Pigs.

Physical.

Wish.

Songs from all over the place. Collector. Hurt. Burn.

Survivalism and Physical were my two favorites of the night.

Watching Trent, dressed in full Freddie Mercury-esque attire,
singing and basically barking into the microphone on
Survivalism was outstanding.

Physical made me laugh because he said here's one from
the beginning and everyone immediately thinks Closer.

Boom, Physical.

Not many people know that song from Broken but by
Veloci-jesus it's an amazing song that people should know.

And we got to see him.

We got to enjoy it.

I had some dick standing still, motionless in front of me.

That pissed me off.

Him and his goon buddies knew some of the songs, thank
the lord, but for the most part, they stood there.

They didn't sit though.

Two people in front of us, a couple loving on each other very
much, sat and stood only for the sake of seeing.

They didn't know the songs.

They didn't care to learn them.

They just looked at the weirdos as they sung along.

They were apparently there to see Jane's Addiction,
so whatever.

I was not.

I was there to see Trent and enjoy myself.

And I did.

Worst part of the night was the standing on a concrete
slope for 2 hours.

With a bad ankle.

And drizzle from time to time sprinkling down on us.

That was it though.

The night was capped by leaving the venue after NIN
was finally done (because who the hell cares
about Jane's Addiction) and finishing off the 30 pack.

Beautiful.

We did hear some of the Jane's songs, and they were just
what you would come to expect from him and them.

Trent and NIN were damn near perfection.

One of the best concerts I've ever seen (close to Tool at
Memorial Hall or APC at Municipal Auditorium).

Starlight is an amazing place to see a concert.

Just turn around and look at all the people behind you
and then look at all the people in front of you.

It's amazing.

It's absurd.

It's amazing.

Trent played a lot more guitar/piano/keyboard
than I expected.

After seeing Tool 3 times in my life, you get used to
Maynard picking up the guitar for half a song.

Trent had the guitar attached to him quite often.

It was real showmanship.

It was good to be a part of this, especially if it's one
of the last he does.

But nothing merch came home with me.

I'm not about to spend 40-75 dollars for a shirt/sweatshirt
I can buy for 10 online. I'm sorry.

And Starlight?

Get your head out of your ass.

Having one merch tent for a GIANT venue seems completely
ridiculous to me.

The two shows I've seen there have had lines longer than
the ones to see the Star Wars movies in theater just to get
to the front of the line and NOT buy a shirt for 40 dollars.

Ridiculous.

Aren't you jealous?