June 3, 2017
Chicago
I woke up early and rose, after a few hours of sleep in the hostel. My nervous anticipation for the day was pressing in on my heart center. On the way back up from breakfast, I met another U2er, Mr. Ken Mendez from Minneapolis. We traded stories and shared photos from the meeting with Edge and Adam the preceding night, and agreed that today seemed it would be a good day to head back to the loading ramp and see who else might come out for a meet and greet.
Upon return to my room, I sat in meditation. I noticed how busy my mind was, and how hard it was to let go of all my scampering thoughts. I found it challenging to sit there for 15 minutes and nearly impossible to dive any deeper into my center Source than the surface. There I was once again, just "sliding down the surface of things", and utterly swept up in the ride down the slide.
I called into a Marijuana Anonymous phone meeting as I got dressed for show day. Having donned my silver light up high tops, my velvet skater skirt, my PopMart tee, and the purple heart shaped sunglasses, I disconnected from the MA meeting early, too excited to wait any longer to head to the venue. It was about 11:40 am when I walked out of the hostel and found my way into Grant Park.
What a beautiful refuge it was from the bustling urban streets. On the way through the park, again I ran into Ken. We walked together the rest of the way to Soldier Field, along the lovely lakeside, and found the barricaded entrance to the loading dock. We chose a spot where Ken had gotten a selfie with Edge the night before. It was 12:15, and there were only a half-dozen other fans hanging around at that point.
I was very happy with our position on the barricade, seated on the grass where I felt grounded. Before long more fans joined us. Deena Dietrich, the author and friend I had met on the I/e tour, and remembered seeing at multiple shows as far back as the 2001 Elevation tour, showed up in her original Larry Mullen Band t-shirt. Brigitte stopped by too, but she needed to get back to the GA line before too long.
My brother Chris called to check-in, and I let him know where we were, making it clear that I wasn't planning to go anywhere and he was welcome to join us, while trying not to imply any pressure for him to do so. He said he would probably catch up later on.
I returned my attention to the scene, tying my license plate on the barricade in front of me like a flag. I took a selfie and hashtagged it in slight hopes of winning an upgrade to the Red Zone for tonight. Chris and I had tried for Red Zone Tickets initially, but they were all gone by the time my presale code was activated. As it turned out, I was actually looking forward to taking in the view from the stands for tonight, yet the draw of the floor and proximity to the band was relentless.
It started getting crowded and more people begin filling in the spaces around the loading dock. I noticed a woman right next to me who was really getting into my space. I was sitting down on the grass, and she was standing up with her ass just inches away behind my head. I ignored it, turned away, and held my ground.
Chris showed up around 2pm, and we sat and had some great chats, real existential kind of stuff, and I told him how this scene always felt a lot to me like "Waiting for Godot":
Waiting for Godot (/ˈɡɒdoʊ/ GOD-oh[1]) is a play by Samuel Beckett, in which two characters, Vladimir and Estragon, wait for the arrival of someone named Godot who never arrives, and while waiting they engage in a variety of discussions and encounter... other characters.
We had a great time, sitting in the shade, going deep in conversation about the nature of reality with an ever-expanding perspective, from about 2:15 until around 3-ish, when the crowd started getting a little bit bigger and a little bit pushier.
Around that time, Marcela and Paul appeared. Marcela greeted me with a big grin and a friendly wave, which was very nice compared to the distracted energy I had felt from her the night before. By then, when I looked up from my conversation with Chris, I saw a lot of people behind us, still sitting casually, whilst also holding their ground. I stood up then, starting to feel a little bit more territorial, and noticed that I had moved further away from my license plate, and now the girl who had her butt right behind my head to the point that I had unwillingly seen a lot more of her hindquarters then I certainly would have chosen to, was standing nearly centered by my license plate. Around the same time, Paul came around the front of the barricade and remarked, "I see you have interesting company again". My adrenal system was going off by then and I had no idea what he was talking about.
Then it clicked: the woman at my side on the barricade was the same woman that had been present the night before with a very rude attitude. While we were waiting then, I had spoken under my breath to Paul about how out of line she was. That day, I was only just realizing that the great ass behind my head had been hers all along. And now, there she was standing by my license plate. My fight or flight response started kicking in even more at that point.
Paul gave me a sticker he said they had made with an image of the great red screen and the giant Joshua Tree silhouette at the beginning of streets with the band members backlit against it. Marcela was wearing a v-neck black shirt with the same image across the chest, and Paul told me they had made that as well. Eventually, Paul moved back around to the other side of the barricade where the crowd was actually supposed to be. Soon thereafter, Marcela came and asked for a picture with us, then eventually moved back off the front line when we turned away from her. I noticed the rude ass girl to my right seem to be encroaching more and more into my space so I said something like, "Excuse me, could you please move back over? You're right in front of the license plate where I have been sitting all afternoon."
Things kind of fell apart at that point. She refused to move and instead starting pushing her body against me. I stood my ground pushing back. She started verbally assaulting me with insults and I decided to test the theory that only love would drown out hate: I told her I loved her. She called me gay and kept pushing. I turned my back on her and then we were leaning back to back in a standoff, and it was very very uncomfortable.
I tried to carry on a conversation with my brother, and by then, Marcela, who had found her way up closer to the barricade with us. She asked me how long I was going to stay. Meanwhile my brother Chris was aggravated by the rude woman who was pushing against me. I was still in full flight or fight mode, and becoming exhausted. The presence of my brother was bringing up visceral sense of what it had been like when I was a school kid being bullied, and i had called on big bro Chris to stand up for me. My drive to flee was starting to get strong when Marcela suggested to me that if the band hadn't come out by 4 p.m., they wouldn't come out at all.
This was really all I needed to hear to be convinced to get out. I checked in with Elsha through Facebook video chat and told her I was sorry but it seemed like it wasn't going to happen today, and we were going to head out. She said it seemed like the crowd around me was nice. I said, "yeah it does seem that way" and then I winked at her.
Just then, I saw David the filmmaker walking on the hill crest across the street, filming the crowd that continue to grow in anticipation of the band's arrival. It was just past four o'clock by then, and I couldn't resist the urge to escape anymore. I untied my license plate, said see you later to Marcela, and Chris and I crossed the street, relinquishing our spot to her.
We had a quick chat with David, and then we walked away from the scene in search of some dinner. I felt disappointed even as I was relieved to have escaped the pressure I was feeling there. I also felt extremely triggered, and noticed panicky feelings rising up in my heart. I sat down in the grass in the park next to some food stands while Chris went and got us some food. I took some pictures of me with the sun behind me and my license plate in front, and when I look at them the sadness in my eyes is undeniable.
Then a beautiful blackbird came and sat on the grass close in front of me. I took some pictures and felt some communion with him.
And though I remain sad, to not have met Bono again, to have failed to bring Elsha to talk with him today, I felt a bit more grounded back in my body.
Chris reappeared and we had some dinner, and we talked about what it happened. Soon, we got up and started walking towards Soldier Field, where the doors were opening to the fans.
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