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Craziest experiences from a show


Tea

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Come on SVT..... The Variety is a fine joint!

The smoking area is like below deck on a refugee boat from Cuba.

That's what Richmond felt like. Sardines!!! Good ole Midwest lets u go out the front doors thank god.

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Come on SVT..... The Variety is a fine joint!

The smoking area is like below deck on a refugee boat from Cuba.
That's what Richmond felt like. Sardines!!! Good ole Midwest lets u go out the front doors thank god.
O yes on the Variety smoking area, walked out there to try and calm my mind a little...... O shit.... That is what my mind told me!
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I LOVE THE VARIETY!!!! that place is one of the first places i ever saw real shows and the place that brought me to DSO!!!!! but um, it's pretty nasty and its in atlanta…… hehe.  also a place i deeply love and a place where the people will always hold a magical place in my heart.  ahhhhh…. I wish I could fly out for EVERY variety show but…. kae ma, it's not usually in the cards.

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Mine is rather new from a Furthur show.  It was the '11 winter tour at the Allstate Arena (used to be horizon, I think) and I was doing a solo mini-tour,hitting up that show and Madison the next night.  I was lucky enough to have some boomers for this show and ate most of them before going in.  I was just walking around the venue killing time and waiting for them to kick in when ZANG, I suddenly could not remember how many laps around the place I had done and my finger was bleeding for some unexplainable reason.  Continued to do my laps, enjoying all the moments and cool people when I see the crowds parting in front of me.  I get up close enough to see whats going on and there is a security guard standing there with the saddest expresion on her face, telling people to "look out", watch your step".  I'm confused and look down to see what she is talking about and I see a huge turd on the floor!  At this point I'm trippin' pretty hard and can't stop laughing at the idea of this poor person being the "poop guard" and its her job to guard this turd for who knows how long, and the fact that sombody had done this.  Not even in a stairwell or something but right on the floor in the middle of the hallway!  I gather myself and head to the bathroom to deal with my finger, but after a few laps to find it I make my way in and the first thing I see is a kid puking his guts out into the trashcan right inside.  I had never seen sombody vomit while this "enhanced" and it was both facinating and disgusting.  Needless to say I didn't go in any farther and decided to just get out of there.  I hear the band start to play and follow the music down to the floor.  The lights looked like some Chinese new year parade dragon thing and I probably looked like that guy in the grateful dead movie, just standing there unmoving, eyes transfixed on the stage.  They played: Ashes & Glass, Any Road, Stagger Lee, Cassidy, Darkstar, Shakedown, Wharf Rat, Playin', and Liberty to name a few.  Not as crazy as most of the stories here, but one of my most memorable shows to date!

   

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6/18/83 SPAC.

 

18 years old. Drove with a friend in his dad's station wagon. Had a great show. At the encore he realizes that the car key, which was just the key, no keychain) is not in his pocket. Not in much condition to execute a proper search of the grounds. Also very dark and the crowd dancing all around, etc.

 

After attempting to convey to me the situation, which I finally understand, we do realize that the time to look is now, before the crowd disperses and said lone key is likely kicked to the far reaches of who knows where (if not had happened already). So down we go onto the floor among the dancing and general mayhem with lighters, in panic as we are far from home with his dad's wagon, which was obtained through stealth and a bit of deceit and let's just say was not well known (or known at all) to the said dad.

 

Alas, empty handed we were. Keyless. In dismay. Not really in the best frame of mind to deal with said crisis. Reeling from the roller coaster of GD show bliss to realization of keyless status interruptus. Down to the ground we go again with lighters. Being kicked and stepped on by the revelry around us as Baby Blue rounds out the show.

 

Focused on the floor about 20 feet away from where we were hanging before the discovery of the loss, I bump headfirst into the knees of someone just standing there. Not dancing. Not moving. I look up and I see an Indian. No lie. An Indian big and tall, like the one in the movie "One flew over the cuckoos nest". I look up from my doggy position and meet his gaze. He looks down at me wordless and slowly breaks into a big grin. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and holds up a single key. I stand. Take it. Thank him profusely. He does not say a word. Does not break his grin...

 

Dr. B B)

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6/18/83 SPAC.

 

18 years old. Drove with a friend in his dad's station wagon. Had a great show. At the encore he realizes that the car key, which was just the key, no keychain) is not in his pocket. Not in much condition to execute a proper search of the grounds. Also very dark and the crowd dancing all around, etc.

 

After attempting to convey to me the situation, which I finally understand, we do realize that the time to look is now, before the crowd disperses and said lone key is likely kicked to the far reaches of who knows where (if not had happened already). So down we go onto the floor among the dancing and general mayhem with lighters, in panic as we are far from home with his dad's wagon, which was obtained through stealth and a bit of deceit and let's just say was not well known (or known at all) to the said dad.

 

Alas, empty handed we were. Keyless. In dismay. Not really in the best frame of mind to deal with said crisis. Reeling from the roller coaster of GD show bliss to realization of keyless status interruptus. Down to the ground we go again with lighters. Being kicked and stepped on by the revelry around us as Baby Blue rounds out the show.

 

Focused on the floor about 20 feet away from where we were hanging before the discovery of the loss, I bump headfirst into the knees of someone just standing there. Not dancing. Not moving. I look up and I see an Indian. No lie. An Indian big and tall, like the one in the movie "One flew over the cuckoos nest". I look up from my doggy position and meet his gaze. He looks down at me wordless and slowly breaks into a big grin. He pulls his hand out of his pocket and holds up a single key. I stand. Take it. Thank him profusely. He does not say a word. Does not break his grin...

 

Dr. B B)

So you lose the key AFTER taking your medication:

One%2BFlew%2B3%2BRed%2BPIll.jpg

 

Oh No!  I've lost car keys at shows a few times - well actually once.  The other times they were either in my other hand or magically appeared in a pocket that had already been checked 348 times. 

 

I can only imagine seeing that mans face as he handed you that key (you forgot to mention it was glowing):

tumblr_ls79puhhfR1qz8gt5o1_500.jpg

 

Freaking priceless.  This level of serendipity has NEVER been re-created in my life since my days following the GD.  M-A-G-I-C.  Pure and simple.  :)

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Buckeye Lake '94 was a Birthday show for me.

My friends bailed and went back to the car, I stayed and saw the show.

The Lightning during Traffic's set was wild !

 

By the time the Dead did their 2nd set I was dry and warm again and it was a nice night

Way crowded that night, I'll bet there were 100,000 there that night, half of them without tickets

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  • 3 weeks later...

6-9-76

Boston music hall had a balcony encircling the lobby -- we were a bunch of tripping folks playing frisbee up there between sets, when a misthrow sends the disc down through the opening to the lobby below, right onto a cop's head. We all duck down behind the railing, except Robert, who slithers down the stairs, right up to the cop and retrieves the frisbee, receiving just a waggling finger from the cop. Restored my faith in humanity. We returned to our seats, still in shock, and the band decides to open the set with St Stephen, after so many years off rotation. Restored my faith in god (very temporarily). 25 years later, at the Somerville Theater, I go to check out this band called DSO, my first show, and the recreation is 6-9-76. Restores my faith in everything (except possibly elective set lists).

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