I know that this is not goodbye

Well I am not quite sure any of this really happened, but to be sure I'm going to throw it all up here and maybe check back with it tomorrow and see if it is at all familiar. Basically I just got back from U2. Sickness blowing into town, further behind that you in schoolwork and on the single day off of both work and school between now and November 4th, the perfect time for a physical and emotionally life-rattling event right?

So I am driving down to the Palace of Auburn Hills and Tommy calls me at like 1:00 and he says "Alright man, I just pulled into the parking lot, they won't let us wait in line until 2:00" Yea by the way we are U2 fanaticals. More to come. And I says "alright, perfect I'm pulling in literally a minute behind you, I'll pull in there too" Or so I thought. I pull behind two other cars heading in, and I'm still on the phone with Tommy trying to figure out where he is going and the first car goes past the stop sign and guard and the next car goes right through also. So quick 'What would you do?' would you follow them right through? Well if you marked 'yes' you'd have received the same fascist "Hey what kind of sign was that right there!!? No turn around!" yell from someone with just the tightest grip on what little power he holds in his work. After the obligatory "thanks, Wyatt Earp" Tommy met me outside and we ditched my car at a restaurant and made our way in just at 2:00, catching the near front area of the gen. admission line.

So we are up at the front and 4 frozen hours (the sun came out for 5-10 minutes and the line literally cheered) away from entry. Tommy and I chattered our teeth together about relationships for awhile (yeah that's right, guys do emote!) and football (...but still stereotypically talk about sports also) and enjoyed the sandwiches and snack bars packed in my jacket turned picnic basket. And what do you know, the clock struck 6:00 and suddenly we are mad dashing inside and gasping at the sight of the stage, a main stage surrounded by a giant ellipse (with fans winning spots actually inside of that ellipse path) and running down and the excitement of gripping onto the rail just in front of the outside of the very path that the band would be dashing around in only 3 hours!!

Or I should break it down as 10,800 seconds as (Ugh) I'm now thinking about the opening band, Institute. I only had one fact and one opinion about them going in: the fact that they were Gavin Rossdale's new band, and the opinion that if I listened to the radio I'd be pummeled by their songs to the point of surrender. What was funny was that their set was the perfect example of a crowd in complete indifference until they play "their song" ('Machinehead' cover, though do you call it a cover if the lead singer plays it, though with a different band?) and then people get loud, followed by that indifference again. Mrs. Stefani cleared out at something like 8:30 and then we waited....

Then the lights are gone. Then you see shadows picking up instruments. Then squeals and sharp notes in the air. And then just as you realize that it is 'City of Blinding Lights' and before I could start to think about how it is going to be just like the music video that was shot live, Bono is standing about 5 feet away from us on the path. I only put a period because you'd need about 3 lines worth of '!' to get it right. Just the purest example of a moment where emotion completely carries you through the adventure. Hugs and pats and yelling and reaching for the bandmates.

We reached out to Bono and I shook his hand. I shook the hand of the person who had written so many of the words that my heart couldn't find to moments with those people whom I hold at just as high and even higher esteem. Those few secret songs with auto-bio lyrics that I only play when I am in pure thought and connection with that place or person. I really felt glad to have that chance to do that, it really felt like a 'thank you' for lending his soul so that I may help to discover mine early in life and to this day.

Tommy got ahold of his hand then too, though in more of a 'there is room in my car, let's bring him with us' style, I didn't think he would let go period. He actually did, then slapped his hand again later for a second time and was lucky enough to shout/talk Adam to literally hand him, not throw to, but to literally put into his hand his pick for the bass guitar. Looking right into his eyes. Into all of their eyes. During 'With or Without You' Bono pulled a lady up upon the path and held her during 'With or Without You'. I can only recall these scattered moments like this, it is all just a blur of adrenaline and thrill. I wish I could share images with you (more than you know, I HAD my camera with me but alas did not have batteries) but it would only be a fraction. When you see The Edge 6' away from you on acoustic guitar playing 'Stuck in a Moment...' during an encore, and Bono 6' away on the other side singing......

They didn't play this song here, but it is as symbolic as anything U2 has helped me to see in my life. The title of this passage is the lyric I wrote in Tommy's senior yearbook just a few weeks after missing the last U2 show with him and a few days before we both entered 'the real world'. It is a lyric from a song from an album that came out as a senior in high school was just discovering new wonders in love and beauty and hope while holding true to one of many friends whom was there then & now. Listening to the album in my car afterwards at the restaurant and eating polish sausage sold in the rain (a real listen being something I'd been much afraid to do for it somehow "not holding up") those memories flooded back just as warm and just as rich with possibility. That same silly kid that sometimes gets lost and anchored by fear, shining through.