Well scratch that, because I got distracted by shinier objects (read as: Ao No Exorcist and Lie to Me). I'm a failure at keeping a blog, blah blah... don't care.
Just pretend that I posted all this stuff about Miyavi - my level in the fandom, my impressions of his new single at the time, etc. throughout the month of October and we aren't currently in mid-November going "oh darn, I meant to post all that..."
Done pretending? Cool. Okay. Now pull up a chair, because Bree's going to share with you a chapter of
Holy Crap, Chicago!
An Adventure in Concert Going and Warding Off People Begging for Money
(because that happens when you're walking around a city)
So first things first - The concert isn't always the biggest part of the day whenever Chicago adventures are had. It's usually just the highlight. But it's always best when you have a traveling buddy, which I do in the form of my best friend+, Shelley. It makes the 6 hour drive a little more tolerable and my brain is less likely to go into panic lock-down for wandering around a large, strange city by myself.
Did you know that a good chunk of Northern Indiana and Illinois is just a field of windmills? Because we do. Also, the exits onto I-90 from what I THINK was Gary, Indiana are marked by graffiti, the streets have no lane lines, and by the fifth hour of driving on the interstate, I'm pretty sure stoplights were either very well hidden or just invisible to me. Either way - Adventure number 1. I almost didn't see the exit.
Since we were essentially on a very tight budget, we were able to crash at a friends house. This is helpful because 1.) We didn't have to camp out in our car, 2.) We had a place to park our car that didn't cost my entire paycheck, and 3.) We were able to acquire directions on how to use the Chicago train system so we didn't have to attempt to drive in downtown Chicago traffic. Which I've done before and I'm pretty sure is what hell looks like.
So in other words, we are very very grateful to our friend. Eternally so.
So on to Adventure number 2. The Chicago train system, which is not so hard once you know which direction you need to go and you have a day pass. Then we got to walk - in The Windy City - in October.
See, Chicago is tricky. It likes to lull you into this false sense of "Oh, it's not too bad" and then smacks you in the face with a wall of bone-chilling cold. And I don't like to blow dry my hair. Because I'm an idiot and I don't live in Chicago. Lesson learned.
Either way, that's not the fun part. That's just the curse-filled part. The fun part is finally arriving at the venue and preparing yourself to stand in line for 10 hours or more - only because you realize you aren't the only ones that are going to wait that long for a concert. There's others as well. And if you've never camped out for a J-rock concert - first lesson: Make friends. You'll be seeing these people for a very long time. Don't be a sourpuss and think you're superior. Talk to these people. Goof off. Laugh. Claws can come out later when you're trying to get your spot on the floor and keep it. For now? Have fun. Because it's going to be a long wait.
In other words: I made new friends at this concert. We talked, we ranted, we gushed and shared stories. I shared my theory on fangirl-ism (which I will share here on another day). We sang Repo! and Sweeney Todd. All in all? Awesome time.
Then came the opening of the doors and a mad dash to the front.
My spot wasn't so bad. I was in front-ish, holding onto the bar because I'm small and if I don't have anything to hold on to, I can easily get shoved out of the crowd (learned from experience). So I'm standing in about second row, gripping onto the bar and looking around a little, focusing on a digital clock that is near backstage that stares back at me, mocking at the fact that while I'm actually here in the venue, spot secured, I've still got an hour to wait until the concert starts.And that's only for the opening act. I got two until I actually get to see what everyone has been camping out for, dealing with strange looks and constant questions, and a guy begging for money to "get back home because he's stranded".
Needless to say, insanity begins to set in, and the guy charging us five dollars in exchange for a small bottle of Gatorade is a god send and not demon spawn that we should spit at.
So opening act shows up - and I'm confused. I'm not entirely sure if I should just stand there and save my energy or just go ahead and get into it just because she was trying so hard. Couldn't understand what she was saying. But then... I'm listening to a Japanese artist, why is this so weird? Oh... she's singing in English. Does that make any kind of difference? No clue... oh well.
Now it's another half hour of waiting. Wait. Wait. Wait. I can't exactly remember if it was now or earlier when the crowd suddenly burst out to sing along with House of Blues' playback of "Bye Bye Bye", but it did happen, and I think that just goes to show you what happens when you wait too long.
But now the screen is going back up, the lights are dimming, the guy checking the equipment has disappeared, and wait... wait for it... waaaaaait....
MIYAVI!
The entire audience surges forward and hello, I'm in front row, trying not to elbow Shelley and one of the people I met in line, because I don't want to be a jerk.
I have to say though, these Miyavi fans were far gentler than some of the Dir en grey crowds I've been in.
Either way, if people would help me compose up the set list from that day, that'd be awesome. I'm not thorough enough to write this stuff down.
I do remember that he did play Shelter and Boom-Hah Boom-Hah-Hah, and that made me so very happy.
The best part of Miyavi concerts, of course, is him interacting with the crowd. Between songs, he'd stop and talk and tease. He dances around, reaches out, grabs people's hands, etc. All in all, his concerts are just plain fun, and he encourages his fans to take part by screaming his name, clapping, and copying any kind of motion that might go with whatever song he plays. It's a reminder that you don't go to a concert just to stand there and listen to him play - because we all know he can do that. You go there to have fun and have some kind of experience to take home with you and talk about later. Plus, he moonwalked with his guitar. How am I suppose to fault anyone who can do that?
You can't. It's a trick question.
But yes, Miyavi is an incredible performer, fangirl gushing, blah blah blah. I was exhausted, starving, and felt rather abused by the end, so I consider it to be quite the successful concert - especially since I hadn't been to one for over two years.
Oh yeah. Did I mention that we shelled out the extra money for the VIP passes?
 |
| Because we did. |
And yes, I made the shirt. With a discounted tie-dye kit, contact paper, a couple of white shirts I found on the Old Navy clearance rack, and three hours of last minute thinking, I got these:
 |
| That's what you get for 6 dollars. Yes! |
Some extra highlights:
- Miyavi asked me if I smelled. No joke. To this day I'm not entirely sure if he meant it to be a direct question to my possible body odor or a comment on his own, but either way I replied with a: "Not too bad... thank you?"
- Yes, that really was my response.
- No, seriously.
- Seriously.
- And my hands were black from the whole dying process. I looked so dirty.
- Yeah, I know.
- On the walk back we ran into a guy peddling his music and yet another guy who "needed money to get back home"
- Thank god Miyavi decided to come to Chicago the same month as Subway's "any footlong for five dollars" promotion, otherwise we would have starved with Illinois' absolutely outrageous food tax.
- WE FOUND A DENNY'S!
