May 14, 2017
CenturyLink Field, Seattle
The alarm went off, breaking into my deep asleep consciousness at 5:30am. Heather got up to shower as I hit my snooze button. I popped up when she came out, and we spent a little time working out the details of our outfits. I didn't want to wear the U2 fly shades today or tonight, they almost seemed garish after the melancholy ending to the Vancouver show. So I opted for my blue reflective heart shaped sunglasses instead to go with my license plate, my silver shoes, and we also brought my light up barrettes for Heather to do my hair later on.
Very soon we were heading back down the hill via Uber, and the older gentleman who was driving us rather paternally asked if we had done something nice for our mothers today... it was, after all, Mother's Day. Yes, of course we had, of course of course... and since we ourselves are also mothers, we were doing something nice for ourselves too!
When we arrived at the check in spot, it was cold and rainy and I was a little concerned for us both as we had not dressed for this weather. Somehow, my intention to obtain a poncho had not actually manifested into a real poncho... yet. I did, however, have my silver disco jacket to lend to Heather and that was slightly waterproof. I had also put on two layers of leggings, a warm black set under my galaxy blue ones that were topped with the blue velvet skirt. I wore a t-shirt, my purple Lulu top, and my motorcycle black jacket on top. I was wishing I had brought my hat after all. We huddled together on the curb and took turns calling our moms to say HMD.
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| Bright shiny things |
My mother suffers from Parkinson's disease. I cannot imagine what its like to be her, all I can do is be the light that I know still burns within her. That light was sparked to show itself on that Mother's Day phone call as she laughed and said, "You're wonderful, Marcy", in response to my persistent attention to those things that could make us feel good. It's a practice that keeps me sober, and wide awake in this defiant joy.
As the rain began to fall more convincingly on the early morning GA line, my enthusiasm for the situation began to flag a bit. It was cold! Just then, our neighbors in line began to unfold a tent-like overhang structure right over us. Literally, Kevin and Heather and I were one moment sitting silently on the curb feeling a cold rain, and the next moment a roof appeared over our heads.
It was a GA line miracle!
So suddenly, we were together in a community of shared resources. I felt inspired, knowing this is the future of humanity. No them, only us, no mine, only ours, and everybody gets their own number, which in the end doesn't matter that much, because we are all at the same show after all.
This Seattle situation is what the GA line up scene was really all about. Being together in community for the shared purpose of feeling the U2 music. Words don't do it justice. The numbers were just a game we played. Ultimately we knew and we will continue to know, we are all in this thing together.
The morning went on, and after a few hours had passed, I put on my heart-shaped shades, set my timer, and took my meditation in our enclosure. I noticed how cold I was, even though by then I was sitting under a blanket and shielded from the wind and rain. I relaxed and let it be in my stillness, just stepping back mentally and observing my coldness, knowing it was temporary. As I did this, I felt an opening in the back of my heart, and an abundant joy bubbled up to flood my heartspace. I breathed into this feeling, and the warm pleasure pulsed with my breath in that space where thoughts were dispersed.
I was still cold though, so I didn't mind too much when the timer went off. I hopped up and stretched my legs, and let our people know I was headed out for a stroll. They told me to take my time, so I walked up past the front of the line, and around the building toward the back. I found the area where it seemed U2 would enter. I felt pretty happy in my nook in the GA line, and I didn't want to get over-stimulated by trying to have some face time with the band this afternoon. I would leave that to Kevin if he so desired. After the fervent excitement of waiting for the band's personal hellos in Vancouver, I was happy to save my energy and skip the possibility of a signing, selfie, or handshake this afternoon.
Sure enough, around early-afternoon, the energy of the line was beginning to buzz as people packed up their temporary shelters and comforts. The news was that the band had arrived in the back, and Bono and Adam had stepped out of their cars and waved at the crowd of fans, but Adam said Bono had to save his voice, and they went into soundcheck without approaching the crowd.
Soon thereafter, as security began making moves to get us ready to enter the building, a group of Bible brandishing hate and fear mongers began a bullhorn sermon of condemnation aimed at the awaiting crowd of GA'ers. They were ignored, for the most part, other than a few middle fingers sent in their direction, and a few loud voices that echoed Bono's speeches to the false preachers during Bullet The Blue Sky. This intrusion was coincident with the joyful sounds of U2's soundcheck ringing out from within the field. Just as the band was reaching the climax of "With or Without You", the hell and brimstone parade was stationing themselves at our line position. I reared back and uninhibitedly belted out a loud chorus of "oh oh oh oh"s in synch with Bono. The fans around me joined in; defiant joy drowned out the hate mongers for just a brief blessed moment.
Out of that chaos of overstimulation from all sides, we were let into the venue.
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