Hobos in Space

Two west side hobos talking in a vacuum, thinking they're funny.

Friday, September 22, 2006

We're Making a List! We're Checking it Twice!

These hobos are riding the rails to Baltimore for the first States-side Virgin Mobile Music Festival. You’ve already heard me bitch about sorting through 37 emails from Ticketmaster and Tom Chaplin having the nerve to enter rehab, so we predict you may already know Tiresias, some pals, and I are headed South tomorrow at the ass crack of dawn.

The most recent email from Ticketmaster not only contained our tickets, but also some helpful guidelines on what to bring to the concert and what to leave at home. It’s an amazing list on so many levels. Especially when you consider, that without this list (hell, with it, too), some jackass will ride his BMX through the gates with bongo drums strapped to his back, numchucks and a paring knife in hand, and a golf umbrella held high and proud.

Here is a list of items that will be permitted at Pimlico:

• Small tote-style umbrellas (Why the hell does it always rain every time I go to Pimlico Race Track? Why?)
• Two plastic factory-sealed water bottles
• Small digital or disposable cameras
• Small blankets or beach towels (How small is ‘small’? Will they have a ruler handy?)
• Kid supplies when accompanying a child (Who brings a kid to an all-day concert? Who brings a kid to a venue within 10 miles of Pete Townsend? Who brings bottles, diapers, a stroller, stuffed animals when not ‘accompanying a child’?)
• Sunglasses, hats and sunscreen
• A valid photo ID card if you want to drink alcohol (Who forgets this? If you know you’re going to be charged $20 for an eight-ounce beer, don’t you think you’d have the foresight to bring your ID? Or without the chain wallet, am I doomed to forget my driver’s license?)

The following items will not be permitted at Pimlico:

• No framed or large backpacks (Who (for Pete's sake) wants to walk around all day with a 55 lb. framed backpack weighing her down at every turn, giving her scoliosis by the minute?)
• No knives or weapons of any kind
• No chains or chain wallets (I don’t know how I’ll find my wallet without it being attached to a chain? What about Mr. T? Will he get through security?)
• No chairs of any kind (Easy chairs? Rocking chairs?)
• No outside food and beverage (Code for ‘we’re going to charge you $10 for a hot dog and $20 for a beer’ a la Woodstock ’98.)
• No coolers (This one’s actually a tough, but not surprising loss. This is not you-drink-what-you-can-carry Preakness, folks.)
• No tents or large umbrellas (I have a predisposition to avoid sleeping outside covered only by plastic, but I understand there are people who enjoy this (why- I have no idea). Regardless, who the hell would ever want to camp out at Pimlico Race Track, particularly in the rain?)
• No video cameras (TG…people who bring video cameras to concerts are the equivalent of the people I see snapping photos of photos at MOMA…I hate them. And doesn’t it defeat the purpose of being there?)
• No audio recording devices (Unfortunately, you will not get to hear the rebroadcast of VM Festival ’06, the call of the beer vendor: ‘Ice cold beer here! $20!’, or the slam of the port-a-potty door in the background)
• No professional cameras
• No pets (Tiresias has made arrangements to leave her seeing eye dog at home.)
• No drugs or drug paraphernalia (They’ll be plenty backstage. But a tough break for those whipping around the kitchen like Betty Crocker baking hash brownies and those stupid enough to buy them from a mute stranger dressed in hemp.)
• No laser pointers (Ah, a warning to deranged goth teenagers and terrorists who would like to graduate from blinding pilots to blinding rock stars. Take note, freaks: we’re onto you.)
• No skateboards, scooters or bikes (Who the fuck brings these to a concert? Except for Elvis Costello, bowling shoe wearing pricks…)
• No fireworks or explosives (We’re going to try to fight the urge to bring all of our M80s, sparklers, and gunpowder.)
• No musical instruments (No one paid over a $100 to hear you and your pickup band friends screech out your rendition of “Details” or to hear you try to fill in for Keane, ok?)

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home