Win tickets to see Phish's three back-to-back shows next weekend at Dick's Sporting Goods

•  http://www.lovetoshopping.org

• really dude? you might want to turn off your TV more often

• you are just not enlightened. wait. you will see.

• At our first phish show my idiot buddy almost ran into a mailbox and got us pulled by the cops as we were driving away, so F'd up

• just to make sure you have it: ryan@ryangetz.net

• my email is mannycomas@bellsouth.net

• jeebus man, that's the condensed version! Too bad such short attention span has become a plague upon Gen-X/Y

• So you found the not so secret secret set and texted your lady? Hetty brah.  

• You lived three hours away and your mom had to convince you to drive to Superball?  True fan indeed.

• Word.

• LOLOL.  Great Ascension and Watchman.  What he knows is a apparently a bunch of wackadoo ideas strung together. Keep shining indeed, my "phriend".  

• its a great story man- i actually voted for you the day you posted it. 

• I actually got a little misty reading this.  Good story!

• evrytime i like yours its taking it and addint it to the guy below, there has to be some kind of error on the site.

• This is the best story here!  It brought tears to my eyes. I love the awesome neighbours you meet at festivals! Good luck!

• This story is good because it's not the same ol "omg I saw walls melting lol" tale, or "I woke up in a pile of wook foeces during Icculus" yarn. It is just about sharing the good mojo in bad circumstances, which is what music family is all about. I think he should be the one who Getz the tickets for the weekend.

• Bill Dauterive - on KING OF THE HILL:  "I made most of my life decisions at a Foghat concert... I stand by them." At various Phish shows over the years: I saw old friends from childhood, newer friends from the scene, and instant friends who needed nothing more than an introduction before they were welcomed into the circle I learned how to experience the Singularity and knew that all was right with the world if I created it in my own reality I knew without a doubt that the time had come to move out to the edge of the desert (at a Vegas show) - one of my best decisions EVER My future wife first told me that she loved me Had a special Festival 8 experience (our first shows after the birth of our child) Decided to move AGAIN, this time to suburban Chicago, at the recent blistering three night UIC run! I know this entry won't win (and lord knows I've got crazier stories) but it feels nice to share...

• Too long. Didn't read.

• Good times!

• My friend ...Ill call him "SENIOR"... and I were on 03 summer tour... after exausting all the deemsters we rode into PA to catch the legendary Starlake show. But as fate would have it, for the last few days id watched this monstrous zit on the side of "SENIOR"s neck grow from a mear zit to a mammoth goiter the size and look of a pink tennis ball. It was morbidly grotesque and freaking me out. That morning , I took SENIOR to the nearest hospital and wished him luck... 5 hours later... he was out ... And the lump that had once had its own area code, was now a seismic spelunking wonder... because where the abomitable protrusion had once thrived on the toxic sanguine of my dear friend, there was now a deep canyon of hollowed out living flesh. I could see 1 1/2" deep into the gaping apature in the side of his neck. With each breath I could see tendons and ligiments moving in the raw open flesh that used to be mearly a stump of meat that held his head up. So , Off to the show... First set is amazing... we 'rage' the intermission and SENIOR has been camly ranting about the 'Crosseyed' teases during the first set. Repeating over and over again something to the nature of - "DID YOU HEAR THOSE FUCKING CROSSEYED TEASES!!???!?!" So the lights go out ... SENIORs practically foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal on PCP Cursing the air like a demon possesed... "ITS GOTTA BE THE CROSSEYED! ITS GOTTA BE!" ... "JA NA NA! JA JA NA NA!!!" "!!!HOLY SHIT!!!" And Trey sang these words... "Lost my SHAPE-Trying to act casual! Can't stop-I might end up in the HOSPITAL. All of our minds were totally blown...

• wow Stardog I knew you were well versed on what was going on but I had no idea how much so. We def need to talk more. Thank you for this beautiful story; for being open and honest and not afraid to share what you Know. If nothing else you have reached out to more people as the Watchman. I am so grateful for you; we need to get the word out and help as much as we can in the great Ascension. I am so proud of you for writing this! Keep shining my phriend!

• wow Stardog I knew you were well versed on what was going on but I had no idea how much so. We def need to talk more. Thank you for this beautiful story; for being open and honest and not afraid to share what you Know. If nothing else you have reached out to more people as the Watchman. I am so grateful for you; we need to get the word out and help as much as we can in the great Ascension. I am so proud of you for writing this! Keep shining my phriend!

• Very cool of you. Hope you win!

• That was very nice. Of you s lot of people would have not done that.I'm. Glad you helped this man out we need more people would like you!!!!!

• Amazing Kid. Blessings.•* namaste.

• What I'm about to tell you is not the "best" Phish story, but a horrible story that I have to get off my chest.  This might not get me consideration but I think the majority would agree that it should. I was living in Glens Falls, NY with my best buddy during the fall of 1994.  As most fans know, that was the year of the legendary Halloween show when Phish busted out the Beatles "White Album" as a "musical costume" at Glens Falls CC.  My buddy had just got me into Phish earlier that year, and I caught my first show at SPAC that Summer.  I was so excited to be hooked (no pun intended!) on this amazing new band.  They were joyfully unlike any band I had ever heard.  Phish made me smile through the worst of days. My buddy's Bday was the day before that show, Oct 30th and were partying for 2 days straight. We took some amazing LSD and had been blissfully partying at various friends houses in preparation for the upcoming Phish show.  My buddy had 2 tix and he didn't inform me that the extra was for me....until..... 2 hours before showtime, we stopped back by our apartment to get the tix and walk 3 blocks to the Civic Center.  We opened the door to our apartment on North Pearl St. and I still can't put it into words how we felt..realizing that....WE HAD BEEN ROBBED!  Our entertainment center was in shambles, they stole our CD player, CD's, TV,  and pictures on the wall were crooked, etc.  It looked out of a movie.  We ran upstairs and to our horror, the lock box my roommate used to keep valuables in was gone...and you guessed it...the Phish tix were inside. They even stole my shoes!  (Whatever you do...take care of your shoes!..lol).  Mind you, we discovered this while we were tripping our face off.  Our minds were not able to comprehend why someone would do this.  We called the police and had to deal with that tripping also.  The cops basically said, "Yep, you got robbed" and "here is our card if you hear or see anything"....Are you kidding me?  It was awful.  We ended up walking to the show and sitting on a curb near the Burger King and just sat in a daze for what seemed like an eternity.  Little did we know that show was going to be so legendary...or that the crowd overpowered security and many got in free.  If we weren't so distraught, we might have noticed.  I will never forget how sad I was.  We seemed more upset about not being able to attend that show that getting robbed.  I deserve these free tickets!   Will it make up for that traumatic night almost 17 years ago?...Not quite, but getting these free tickets would be the "best" on my list!  Thank you.

• St Louis 2009, this was probably the hardest ticket on this leg of the tour to get since the venue only admits about 4200.  I had been looking for months, setting my spending limit at $100.  Just couldn't afford the $400-500 that people were selling them for.  The morning of the show I waited with a handful of others in the rain for the box office to open, was told some venues sell a few the day of the show.  Anyway, that was a no-go, so back to work for a few hours.  Four of my friends came into town and they were calling and texting me to leave work about 3pm to come join them for pre-gaming.  So, the search was on again.  No tickets, especially for $100.  It’s about 6pm at this point, time is getting short.  3 of my four friends go in, so two of us are left on Grand Blvd searching.  A wander past the entrance to the venue and there stand two of my old friends from Colorado (Eric and April) I hadn't seen or really spoken to them in like 5 years, lost their contact information when I moved back to the east coast for school.  Hugs all around.  We walk and talk and catch up, and it comes to light that I don't have a ticket.  Eric looks at me with a grin... "I've got an extra” he says.  WHAT?  "How much?"  He says the magic number... $100.  I couldn’t make the transaction fast enough, and he wanted to find the right buyer and hook them up instead of overcharging like all the rest with extras.   It doesn’t end there, so my fourth friend from earlier had split off to continue her search, the others already in the venue.  So Eric, April and I continue to talk, drink a few beers and reminisce.   I tell them that it sucks my friend can’t find a ticket.  Eric looks at me again with a grin…. “I have another extra.”  WHAT???  He says, “go get your friend and we’ll work something out”.  She has less money to spend on the ticket than I did, I think it was $60.  Eric started to second guess his choice to sell.  But she says she has a case of wine in her trunk (She’s a wine rep in Illinois).  He says “deal” and we all make our way into the Fox as the lights drop.  I want to win these tickets to repay my friends, Eric and April, for coming through and helping us all get into the best venue on that tour! 

• it's all true Nsjd, sometimes life is stranger than fiction... check out Robert Anton Wilson's The Cosmic Trigger for more on that...

• You really believe this? Holy spun.

• Whoa!

• Okay, here's what I call a Sirius Phish tale that gets into the real magical spiritual synchronicity that this band is famous for. The year was 1996 and this native Clevelander was hoping the Tribe would be back in the World Series on my birthday (October 22), like the year before. But then the Tribe got knocked out of the playoffs in the first round, so I took that as a sign from God that I should attend my Phish birthday show at Madison Square Garden. This was the same venue where the band had changed my life the previous New Year's Eve 12/31/95 (when I had the revelation that they were tapping into the same cosmic jam vibes as the Grateful Dead and that the party therefore was not over, the music gods had provided a next generation to carry the cosmic torch!) So I hook up with a couple of good phriends and we hit the show and it's a great one. Then comes the encore, which would have profound effects upon my life to this very day. Trey comes out and says the band has had a great time, but the fun's not over yet, we've got a couple of new friends to help us out with this last number, please welcome Mr. Merl Saunders and Mr. Buddy Miles! My three favorite guitarists of all-time are Jimi, Jerry and Trey, so for friends of Jimi and Jerry to come out and represent at my birthday show was mindblowing! But that was just the beginning. The song they played was Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower," with Buddy playing drums and singing his soul version of the tune, which was great. Now I'd seen the Grateful Dead play it numerous times and loved Jimi's version of course. But I still didn't get the significance of this song... yet. Fast forward to 1997, when I had a dramatic UFO sighting at Cathedral Rock in Sedona, Arizona while conducting research for an X-Files spec script I was writing in LA. My mind was further blown when Phish's spring newsletter came out and announced the summer tour would end with a festival called The Great Went, to take place at the former Loring Air Force Base in Limestone, Maine. I had just finished reading a book called The UFO Coverup which had an entire chapter called "Intrusions at Loring," about a UFO incident at the base in 1975 (from files released under Freedom of Information Act inquiries by UFOlogist/attorney Peter Gersten from CAUS, Citizens Against UFO Secrecy). And the Great Went would also be on the 10-year anniversary of the Mayan Harmonic Convergence, no less! I knew I had to be there. It seemed like the band was setting up the fest as an attempt at making contact, ala Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind (with music, light and color.) But so I was back in Sedona for a second time the weekend of the 97 Summer Solstice. My phriend Ashley (who'd oddly become a born again Christian but still liked Phish and the Dead) and I saw another dramatic UFO at Schnebly Hill on June 20. Then the next day we went to the Chapel of the Holy Cross, and this is where the space-time continuum starts to go into flux. We go into the gift shop where they have these keychains with your name on them and a verse of biblical allegory. I go to find the one for "Greg" and then occurred perhaps the most mind-bending moment of my life - the "Greg" keychain said "Watchman", implying that Greg means watchman of some sort. I immediately flashed back to the encore of my 10/22/96 birthday show, and in regards to "All Along the Watchtower", it suddenly dawned on me that I had never really thought about what that song is actually about, despite how many times I'd heard it. I bought the keychain, went to the car and popped in the tape of that show to listen to the encore again. The full revelation didn't happen all in that day, but the picture was starting to become clear and within a week or so, I had come to some Sirius realizations. I felt that the first verse was a clear condemnation of the way modern society puts greed before the welfare of Mother Earth. I felt the second verse was clearly indicating that those who recognize this have a higher destiny than just being trapped victims of this false paradigm. The third verse was a bit more puzzling. I asked my born-again phriend Ashley what was the deal with the watchman in the bible, and she set about to look up references to the watchman in the bible. Here's one she came up with that I found most compelling:Ezekiel 33 1 The word of the LORD came to me: 2 "Son of man, speak to your countrymen and say to them: `When I bring the sword against a land, and the people of the land choose one of their men and make him their watchman, 3 and he sees the sword coming against the land and blows the trumpet to warn the people, 4 then if anyone hears the trumpet but does not take warning and the sword comes and takes his life, his blood will be on his own head. 5 Since he heard the sound of the trumpet but did not take warning, his blood will be on his own head. If he had taken warning, he would have saved himself. 6 But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and the sword comes and takes the life of one of them, that man will be taken away because of his sin, but I will hold the watchman accountable for his blood.' --------------------------------------------------------------------- To me, the essence of this passage is quite clear - if someone dies because the watchman did not give fair warning, then the blood is on the watchman's hands.  And I am a "watchman"? Hmm, I thought, that's pretty heavy.  Maybe "the people" hadn't chosen me to be the watchman, but it sure seemed like someone from up above had... In light of what I'd read about angelic presences at the Chapel of the Holy Cross, this made a lot of sense. The keychain seemed to clearly illuminate this message. It was a message I felt I had no choice but to take very seriously. Here I had been on this path to discover the truth about UFOs and government conspiracies and now the cosmos seemed to be telling me that I had an assigned duty to raise as much awareness about this information as possible, because I had come to feel that the UFO coverup, not to mention a wealth of other conspiracies, are a serious crime against humanity that are stalling and perhaps risking our ascension to a new age of harmony that will transcend the problems that plague society today. Phish seem like musical prophets of this new age, and have even been singing about it lately with their great cover of "Golden Age". A starseed friend at Venice Beach told me my guardian angels had set up the encore at my Phish birthday show to send me a message, and this is where I came up with the term Sirius Synchronicity. This also led to my nickname of Agent Stardog in 1998, due to my research and stardog email address. I certainly did not want to conceive of anyone else's blood on my hands because of neglecting this duty, nor did I want to even ponder what my karmic backlash might be for disappointing my guardian spirits regarding this matter of great import. And so did I vow back in the summer of 1997 that I would remain ever faithfully "along the watchtower" calling out the warnings as I saw them. I feel that the more people become aware of these matters, then the closer we will collectively be to ending the secrecy and changing the world (because the free energy technology our visitors use to get here will revolutionize the planet.) I felt like this series of synchronicities was God's way of speaking directly to me, to inspire me to do this work that is necessary in the divine cosmic plan. And that Phish are sort of messengers of peace and harmony in this regard, as many phans have had enlightening experiences and felt the uplifting higher vibrations at shows that no other band can match.When Phish broke up in 2004, I knew they'd be back by 2012 at the latest, because we need to raise the vibration of this planet to help make the 2012 ascension happen. It's not all about Phish and music of course, but as the universal language, music is a very important factor. So let's do this...

• Short and sweet. I've never seen Phish, have hardly heard their music but I would LOVE to be like all of you and have my own story to share after a show or three. ;) PRETTY PLEASE LIKE THIS?! :) THANK YOU! LOVE YOU! :D

• Let’s keep this short and sweet: During Phish's IT Festival in Limestone, Maine Aug 2 & 3 of 2003, I attempted to use a porto-potty. It’s important to note that 60,000 people attended this festival, and I approached said porto-potty on the afternoon of the 2nd day. I opened the door to the porto-potty, and witnessed something that to this very day, I cannot unsee: human feces piled up 6 to 8 inches ABOVE the toilet rim. So basically the 3 to 5 previous people to use this particular toilet had to have squatted/hovering over the toilet in order to stack more turds on to this grossly overused toilet. I could not believe my eyes. I shut the door, and walked away from the toilet a changed man.

• So it was my first and only show so far...  9/15/2000.  Had only been listening to Phish for about two years at that point.  It was the first semester of my freshman year of college.  Freedom and fresh, foolish inspiration were everywhere.  The school was a small school in the middle nowhere in Pennsylvania so the entertainment options were slim.  No big bands, no great hangouts, and the place barely had a fair every year.  So, we knew our fun would come from big adventures outside the city (ermmm...  tiny hamlet of a town) limits.  When I saw that Phish was playing in PA I half thought about trying to get ticket but balked when I started to think about the logistics of the whole thing.  It would take juggling of a rigorous lacrosse practice schedule and coursework that was mounting on top of rides and deciding which new friends would be chill enough to pull off the short 200 mile round trip road trip with. The week of the concert, a few friends and I were starting spout out short monologues about how sweet it would have been to get tickets and have the time to actually go see the show and how we should have tried to get tickets and all that.  Finally, the day before the show my room mate and I rally two other girls that had never been to see Phish and we all together decide we are going to go without tickets anyway and see what happens.  HOPE FOR THE BEST!!!  Show up at THE SHOW.  Parking is easy.  Excellent!!!  Ticket resellers are EVERYwhere!!!  WHOA... even better.  Things are looking up!  The smell of grilled cheese, stir fry and the sweet air of a proper Phish show fills our noses on the way to Hershey Field.  This is getting really fun and exciting.  Still no tickets...  The show is starting.  We can hear Trey riffing into a dirty little First Tube.  Excitement builds with every step.  Every note.  Louder.  LOUDER.  We are almost there. We are about 50 yards from the ticket takes and some kid pegs us as not having tickets,  unloads four tickets on us for half price since the show already started!  SCORE!!!  So we get into the show without missing too much and having heard the entire set so far.  Set one finishes off smooth and buttery with a Bittersweet Motel that we were glad to have been there for.  Set two goes OFF in the most incredible way.  Piper, Lizards, Tube into an amazing jam, Circus, Character Zero and then a loud and proud audience begging to be mowed down by the encore.  POSSUM!!!  Show ends.  Pile into the car.  Pumped.  Glad we made the game time decision to go without tickets anyway.  Fortune favors the bold!  We get lost on our way home.  We are driving down an unfamiliar road...  ALMOST drill a Possum.  Too perfect after just hearing Possum for the encore.  Get lost on the way home.  Take way too long.  Finally pull into a parking spot on campus.  Three sleeping riders and myself driving.  I put the car in park.  Look at the clock that (no shit) reads 4:20.  "hey guys.  check this out i whisper." as I wake them.  Turn off the car and turn in knowing I had just had the time of my LIFE. The End.

• I didn't realize I was holding a front row SPAC tic til 2nd set had already started. So psyched, I ran right down to the center rail. I am out of my mind excited. Shortly, more front row peeps came & I had to shuffle to Page side. As I move over, I see Trey lift his hand from the strings & give me a kind of half wave. I'm thinking, whah? I check out Mike, who gives me the head nod. Then Page stands up & screams right at me: "and her life was saved by rock & roll!". The band was playing the entire song straight to me!! Constant eye contact, our lips in sync! I am freaking out, thinking I must be imagining all this; its so intense I return to taper section after 3/4 songs. A few days after, I tell the story to a friend catching a ride to his next water wheel assignment. He said, "Omgosh, Alissa, 2 of my friends were down front @ SPAC & told me when a chick in pony tails showed up 2nd set, the band saw her & the show really took off!" I have met all the members of the band several times, I've even been shown Trey's Journal, but this by far, has topped ALL my Phish experiences. I hope I have a chance to do it again, and again, and again, AND AGAIN! THX

• Somehow I have managed to retain memory of each and every of the 80 Phish shows that I have attended since the summer of 95.  Its impressive being that I often forget what my wife just told me yesterday.  Long term memory in tact...short term not so much.  That being said, my most adventurous show memory has taken me quite some time to dial in.   So here goes...It was the summer of 97 and I had made the trek from NJ to Deer Creek Indiana with a crew of good friends.  Our excitement and anticipation for what was about to go down over the next two nights had us running hard on pure adrenaline.  The opening set was packed with such juicy goodness and booty spankin grooves that everyone around me dancing in "the pit" began to transform into primordial beings, turning off their brains and just responding with their hearts to the intergalactic conversation being created between the band, the audience, and our extra terrestrial friends hovering above.  During the Split Open and Melt jam, I experienced a real "holy grail" moment wherein the whole venue lit up {like it was high noon} from a celestial light from above, and the jam completely morphed into pure melodic bliss.  Everyone that was fully present knew that this moment of magic is why we keep coming back every tour.  In less than a minute Trey pushed the jam back into the rugged nasty dash to the finish of Split Open.  

• Letter to the security at Bethel Woods Center for Performing ArtsWritten By: Lee Martin  At approximately 7:30 I witnessed a colleague of mine being harassed at the front gate of Bethel Woods Center for the Performing Arts. For purposes of this illustration, I will refer to him as ‘Winsah Clang” (just off the top of my head). Unfortunately I had already passed through the gate to get inside the venue, and was standing with a few associates of mine, let’s call them “The Shoe”, “Venegas” & ‘Davy Boy”. Our women were within eyesight, but were bubbling with talk of sequined dresses and feather boas, so we were standing off to the side. Another one of my esteemed colleagues; “Jersey Mike”(again-alias only-for illustration purposes) had unfortunately not bothered to procure a ticket to the show, and was right behind me, even though he failed to utilize a massive pick I set for him, he apparently weaseled his way past the 73 year old woman at the gate who had one glass eye and only 3 fingers on her scanner hand. As my mind raced, feeling helpless, we watched in horror as Mr. Clang argued in vain with the security guard that had ripped the helmet off his head. I could see the vein popping out of Mr. Clang’s neck from 100 years away. The helmet had been artfully crafted out of, well…a TV . The Shoe picked that moment to comment on how hilarious it was that his ticket had not even been scanned yet. An idea began to form in my brain piece: what if I took that unscanned ticket and went back out to where Mr. Clang and the security guard were discussing the finer points of what should be considered a weapon and what should not & take back the TV helmet! My palms sweaty, eyes racing, I asked for The Shoe’s ticket and explained the situation. He gave the ok and I embarked on what would be the 1st of a series of adventures. My mind was clear.by Lee Martin on Tuesday, May 31, 2011 at 4:14pm  As I approached Mr. Clang, I made sure to not be in sight of the guard. As I got within earshot, I sensed that Mr. Clang was in a hopeless situation. That guard was not going to give him back his helmet, no matter how many times Mr. Clang asked him to call his supervisor. The old “I am the supervisor” trick was in full effect. Mr. Clang did not see me motioning from behind the guards back to move so that the guard would be out of the way enough for me to snag the TV, but fortunately after only a few moments, the guard had to turn away for a moment to deal with a totally unrelated situation involving a woman vomiting on a service dog while a man waved a guitar shaped like a hot dog in the air. The dog was ok, but the woman was not. Seizing the moment, I reached deep into the inner workings of the dumpster and pulled aloft…the TV helmet. My quest was ½ over! I ran to the closest gate I could find out of sight of the dog/puke/hot dog guitar fiasco, and started to walk through. The 17 year old vixen said “Wait a MINUTE! STOP!” and my heart skipped a beat until I realized that she was simply asking me for my ticket. I had forgotten that although I had already been through the gate once, they wouldn’t simply let me back in just because I was really sweaty and happy. I fumbled in my pockets and found the unscanned ticket, and proceed to the group. Mr. Clang was already there and was ecstatic that I had made it through. Those that had seen what went down were also floored. Which is where we were heading. The moat floor. Or so we thought.As we crested the hill that topped the lawn, a crowd gathered around us. A crowd of laughing, smiling children engulfed us completely, wanting to see what was up with the TV man. We pulled the helmet off Mr. Clang and took some photographs for the mother figure that was really psyched we were cool with her kids trying on the TV helmet. Our women were getting beers. My mouth was in a partial circle shape, an upturned semi-circle if you will-as I gazed out over the bobbing throng of revelers that were about to be smashed in the face by a band called Phish. One of my women - lets call her “Szabes” looked like she was having trouble at the beer tent. She was brandishing her beer at the bartender, which was spewing liquid from the bottom. She had a hole in her bucket, dear Liza, and wanted a replacement. The bartender thought he was the king of the world and refused to give her a new cup, but slyly leaned over and pronounced that he was too busy to do so, which ironically took more time than it would have to simply hand her a new chalice. “Szabes,” I said, “This is Phish. Here, you need to do whatever you want,” which would be a fortuitous proclamation for what was about to unfold. After I poured the leaking beer into a new receptacle, I turned to the gentleman-king-of-the-world-dickface bartender and flicked the empty cup into his facial region, and calmly turned and walked away. The cup hit him in the face, but I did not have time to wait to see his reaction. Phish was about to go on.   As we graced the back of the lawn with our presence, Szabes was commenting on the fact that it felt nice to do whatever we wanted when I noticed that Mr. Clang was once again screaming at security guards. This time, there were three of them, and they really wanted his TV helmet. Also, they were big. As I raced over, I could see that once again, Mr. Clang was telling security that he wanted to talk to a supervisor. He also was bending the truth slightly when they asked how he got the helmet into the venue when he told them that “they let it in at the front gate, no problem.” Also his claim that he had seen “Over 100 Phish concerts with the TV helmet” was also clearly a bit embellished, as I know for a fact that the helmet had been made not a few months prior. Nonetheless, the guards meant business. The more we tried to calmly reason with them by screaming obscenities in their faces, the less they wanted to talk about the TV helmet, and the more they wanted to talk about “kicking us out.” I took this to mean one thing; I would have to run the helmet to the certain safety of the Page side moat, where, as we all know: anything goes. I calmly reached down as if I was going to tie my shoe, grabbed the helmet, and ran faster than I have ever run in my entire life. Apparently that still was not that fast, as the younger gentleman security guard quickly and expertly brought me down by superman tackling me from behind. Lets call him Flash. Flash, having no regard whatsoever for the Waterwheel foundation, almost took out the entire foundation of their display (pun intended). Another one of the guards was quick on Flash’s heels and, even though I was down and not struggling, jumped up into the air and expertly came down elbow first directly into my face. This gentleman-lets call him “Todd,” was quite angry. “You are fucking GONE buddy…you fucking IDIOT,” he was screaming into my ear as he dug his elbow deeper into my nose. I thought for a brief moment that I felt an erection in my back, but that could have just been wishful thinking. Todd and Flash dragged me to a standing position. The Waterwheel girl was not impressed, although the older, fatter security guard that did not take part in the running, jumping, tackling certainly was. As my laugher subsided into the grim realization that 12 other yellow shirts were running/swarming our way, which most likely meant that I was in fact going to be “GONE buddy” pretty quickly. As security started to really let us have it (verbally-true professionals), one blurted out “Where the fuck is it gentlemen???” and I realized that I was able to deftly throw the TV helmet to safety just before I was so convincingly forced to the ground. There was a glimmer of hope.   I knew that I could talk my way out of this. Todd, bless his heart, did not. I worked my way through various stalling tactics “ok, can you just tell my woman that I will meet her at the car” and then moved directly into blatant confusion: “All right gang, lets get this over with. Get me out of here. Let’s go already,” as if I was impatient to get the boot. Then, came the unreasonable apologizing; “You know, I am super sorry that you guys had to do that. We made a mistake running from you. If only we knew that TV helmets weren’t allowed in the show.” Oh yeah, the reader asks-you wouldn’t have attempted this charade if you had “known it wasn’t allowed? No dummy, but we would have been better prepared! Somewhere along the line Todd decided he was going to play the “good guy” and started screaming at Mr. Clang and I to shut up. He had something to SAY! “Let me tell you something, you guys are real jerks, ok….listen I said shut up. Just fucking listen….” For about 10 minutes we just rambled in and out with him, ducking and dodging his words until, quite frankly he decided that he had no fucking idea how to deal with us. “Ok. You guys have fun.” He then, get this…shook my hand and the other one slapped me up and said “Sorry about your shirt.” Apparently someone had ripped my shirt a square foot hole in the back. I had not noticed. In about 15 minutes, we had gone almost certainly being ejected from the venue to being apologized to by the guards. As we hurried away, Davy boy leans over and grins grins; “I got the TV, and hid it on the lawn.” As we retrieved the helmet from the hiding spot and placed it back upon its rightful owner’s head, Phish started playing- I smiled to myself and thought - I should write a letter to the Bethel Woods Center For Performing Arts security department thanking them for a great weekend.   Len-e Frumb the Lot: It’s the only channel we’ve got.

• "There's energy in music. Then the singer sang the voice of that energy. And you can feel that in these great rock concerts. I mean a Grateful Dead concert is basically like a religious church experience. For me, it's an incredible experience, in which the audience is as much a player as the players are players. And everybody realizes that it's a group experience that everybody is having together. And all the people up front are steering the ship, but they don't necessarily play on the ship." -Baba Ram Dass That quote summarizes my experience with Phish. To me, Phish is that: an unadulterated mystical experience in which time stands still, the musical notes are experienced through senses other than sound perception and the ego surrenders to give way to a communal expression of consciousness that align you with a collective consciousness, including your own, even if for just a few minutes a show. When I started seeing Phish the people and the environment just spoke to my soul in a way that I previously had not been able to comprehend. I guess the metaphor would be like finding god for the first time in your life and just having your heart fill up with bliss, nothing else matters and everything else just falls away. Granted I was just capturing an inkling of this- the full surrender and take-over of my soul would come later- but I knew I had found home. Music has the power to engender the mystical experience. It is said by experts in mysticism that mystical states cannot be sustained for very long. Seconds, minutes, and in rare cases at most an hour or two, seem to be the limit beyond which they fade back into the real of common day. Oh, but whoever has stood on the side of a hill staring at the Columbia river gorge entangled in the vocal jam of YEM, or gripping the lawn during a hot summer night as Stash unravels and takes you for a ride, or shared in the energy vortex of the dance funk pit has SEEN AND FELT IT. Unfortunately, through the years of seeing Phish I had lost sight of this. I had forgotten why it was that I fell in love with this band in the first place. Phish became just about the party and I became lost in the underbelly of the scene, a lost soul on tour strung out on heroin. The party was over, but no one told me. Instead of being a beacon of light at shows, I was consumed in the darkness. Luckily for me and for those that love me, I woke up to find out that I am truly the eyes of the world, that life is such a beautiful gift, and that although my inner light was dim it could shine brightly once again, that I could once again live in the sunshine of the spirit. After years of living in the despair of addiction slowly killing myself, I reached out for help and went to rehab in May of 2008. It wasn't my first trip to rehab, but it was the first time I got completely honest with myself and started listening to suggestions and I've been sober since. I was living in a halfway house when Phish announced they would be reuniting. I was both estatic and full of fear. I was overwhelmed with joy at the fact that I would have Phish back in my life. Unlike, my mother, I knew Phish was not responsible for my addiction. I knew that Phish had helped shaped and added to my ideals as a human being: positivity, optimism, love and respect of others, tenacity, hope, sense of self and community and most importantly MY PHUNKINESS. However, I still had doubts as to whether I would be able to feel IT again. I found myself wondering if the experience would change without drugs. Psychedelics, especially LSD, were always central to my Phish experience and as such I kind of associated one with the other. I flew up to the shows without tickets, but the universe knew I needed to be in that building that night so that I could experience IT once again, but SOBER. My friend was able to find two tickets for me, $200 for each, but somethings in life are priceless. Like the energy inside the mothership as the lights went down and the boys started playing Fluffhead. I had tears rolling down my face. I still get goosebumps when I recall that memory. I WAS HOME ONCE AGAIN. At the end of the show, all doubts had been erased from my mind. I HAD FELT IT ONCE AGAIN. Not only was the music still taking me there, it was taking me FUCKING THERE. It wasn’t some kind of watered-down transcendence as I had thought it would be. The experience erased years of self-doubt that what I had dedicated so much of my life to, put so much faith in, was in fact REAL. There was just no way of knowing without removing the drugs. I was overwhelmed with joy and gratitude and I knew with every fiber in my body that I was on the right path in life. I threw down even harder for the second night and haven't looked back. I am once again living in the sunlight of the spirit and am a beacon of light and love at Phish and everyday. There’s no better way to create a glow of positivism and hope than attending a Phish show. Phish is my church.

• So, I have never actually been to a Phish show.  But, I was blessed to see Trey and Mike Gordon play a duet set at last year's 4 Mile Revival show at 1st Bank Center, and it was amazing.  The positive energy flowing that night reminded me what concerts are all about, and we raised a significant amount of money to help the victims of that tragic fire near Boulder.  Mike and Trey put on a great show....Water in the Sky, Wilson, Bathtub Gin - all played almost effortlessly and all the while Trey had his famous "Trey face" on.  Mike Gordon's style of bass amazed me, he is so original in his chords and creativity when playing songs.  To all you Phish heads who have seen hundreds of shows:  I deserve these tickets.....please help me make it to my first Phish show so I can experience the love and stories that so many have experienced.  "I'm so bad!!!"

• Lazlo, Take a Valium jerky!   It's all in good fun. And with many essays circulated around, you have been the only one to say anything negative.  Oh, and with a screen name like Lazlo you really aren't one to talk, or are you a militant Chicano attorney from LA on Acid? Lighten up n00b!

• 4.26.96 - ditched a Friday of my senior year of high school and drove to New Orleans with some friends from Houston.  Only had a Waffle House waffle on the way for breakfast, went straight to the Fair Grounds and bought beer.  Wasn't that surprised that they sold us beer, even at 18 years old with no question of ID; after all it was New Orleans.  Phish came on almost a half hour early and played their allotted time.  The place was packed and humid, I have never seen Jazz Fest so crowded, full of a lot of youngsters; like ourselves.  After the set, hungry and dehydrated, we lined up to get some food and non-alcoholic beverages.  At this point, I begin to see the light and start to hallucinate.  Little did I know that I was about to pass out, right there in line about 10 more people to go to get a beverage.  I tried to regain composure, but went down for the second time; this time some ice and water found its way to me and the day was saved.  Since that day in April, Phish has never been invited back to play Jazz Fest, but I have returned to the fest and concurred my demons.  I also have made a point to see Phish in NOLA at other venues and have concurred those demons as well.  Long story short, eat and drink plenty of water; especially when underage drinking in 90 degree temperatures with humidity in the middle of a field with 50,000 of your closest friends.

• Way back in December of 1992, the 12th to be exact, before I made the move to Colorado, a buddy and me were making the trip to see our 1st Phish show from Indiana to Bogart's in Cincinnati, Ohio. About halfway through our trip we picked up two scraggly hitchhikers. The hikers happened to be Heads (go figure) anyway we were poor teens without a working car stereo but we had a boombox on the floor playing Sgt. Peppers. So, these Heads are talking about seeing Phish in Telluride and other spots telling us newbs what the shows were like. At the exact moment they were talking about how they played on trampolines, Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite came on the cassette - with the line "There Will be a Show Tonight on Trampolines" Well, being that I love synchronicity the moment will always stick with me.

• I had 6th row floor seats, Fishman side, for NYE at the Garden this year.  After the epic YEM>Manteca>YEM (which you can hear me on, YEAAAH FISHMAN!), I went up to the 300 section during the setbreak to go find some friends.  I tried to come back down to my seats before the third set started, but they wouldnt let me to my seat!  I had my ticket but the tunnel to get to the floor was closed off because the band needed it for the flying hotdog, although at the time I was of course not given any details. After some careful planning in my spun brain, I decided to go back up to the higher sections and watch and try to push my way down to the floor.  Maneuvering back down to the front of the floor from the stadium seating was next to impossible.  Thankfully, everyone was extremely phriendly and shared their champagne and blunts with me as I slowly got back down to the wall to jump down to the floor.  I finally made it down just after the hotdog landed back on the stage, just in time for the balloons to rain down on me.  Overall, an amazing night, and I'll always take one for the team and let phish fly high in a hotdog!

• I'll never forget the site of you cruising around in that thing, beads and glowsticks and a certain lady hanging off of it.  For a second I was jealous for not having a broken foot!  Hope you win!

• You call it paying homage, everyone else calls it cheap and petty imitation (and borderline plagiarism). Steadman said it best when he said there are many people who try to emulate Thompson's style -- and all fail miserably, without exception.

• Naked at the Front circa '87 While attending UVM from '89-90 I had the pleasure of seeing them on numerous occasions for $2 & $4 covers. "Favorite/Most Radical Moment" - Henrietta lowered from the rafters of a nightclub in Burlington called The Front (it shared a roof with a place called the Outback that served you nickel and dime drafts) to play an awaiting vacuum cleaner while stark naked. Favorite Festival Moment - Lemonwheel Driving to Lemonwheel in the furthest reaches of Maine in the 90s. I took over the driving at 10 PM and woke everyone up 8 1/2 hours later at 6:30 AM so they could quickly dig out proof they had passes. 1000s of cars were checked one-by-one for such proof before gaining entrance. All carried out in the middle of a blinding rain storm on a two-lane country road leading to the AFB. I held on all night staying awake by jumping out of the car, taking a leak. sharing a splif with neighboring drivers (charged with the vigil as well) until waking up my friends who had little idea what had gone down from midnight to dawn. It was as if security had been subbed out to a Soviet breadline operator. Car pulls up, everyone wake up, dig for tickets, kick out non-holders, move car forward...next car please. One by one in single file coming from all points South:) Love to go and the ol' lady doesn't let me buy these tix anymore; asks that I grow up and stop trying to save the world. I'll take my  7 yr old daughter as my date instead :)

• Um yeah lets give kudos to the plagiarizers and the kids that told stories of their drug use(not their Phish experience)  and  reprimand the kid that told a legit story. Good job KYS the kid that told a legit story. Good job KYS

• Been a lifetime Phish phan, even served Trey at Starbucks, but alas I have NEVER been to a Phish show! I have missed out on every lottery and all shows have sold out on me before I could score.

• Interesting to see how a contest about your greatest Phish experience is basically turning into a "I took a whole bunch of drugs, and oh yeah, I guess Phish played"" contest. But do go on, tell us just how F'ed up you were at the show, and please, we need a laundry list of every substance you were on, just to award enough headdy points to you. I am far from a prude, and am not a stranger to having a good time when at a show, but some (notice I said some) of these tales are just kind of sad. What difference does it make how much molly or mushrooms you took when describing a Phish show? Keep feeding the stereotype of drunken doped out losers listening to the noodle jams. /rant

• My last encounter with phish was in Alpharetta Ga for the summer tour....  I bought these tickets knowing these two nights would probably be the only shows i would catch in 2011.  before the show I loaded up my 87 420 SEL mercedes Benz with a phresh set of new hoops in hopes of making a lil spending money. The drive to Alpharetta is almost 6 hours from where I live. Right as I am getting ready to leave a big metal pipe from underneath my car snaps the old rubber cord from wich it was suspended and hits the concrete. Sorry if this is a little confusing but I really dont know anything about cars.... I hopped in the car and realized it was dragging the ground, no possible way to drive the car like this, so I managed to make it to my boyfriends house, only hes not there and has my Key to the front door. The house is older kind of victorian style. I thought maybe I could wedge one of the windows open to get into the house so that i could borrow his tools and somehow rig the metal pipe to hold through the trip. But i just couldnt seem to get the window open, I must have called My bf a million times... no answer. So finally I did the only logical thing a phan would do.... whatever I have to do. So I went to the back door and thrust my right leg as hard as I could at the door handle throwing all my weight into it... the handle dented into the door and i heard peices of the wood frame crack.... One more solid kick and the door was busted...that dead bolt was ruined...I felt kinda shity about ruining the door.. since it wasnt my place, but I had to do it.... I found some metal cabel wire and used it to rig the pipe.... then me and my friend Unity hit the road..... I love my benz but that car ride was hell... nearly 6 hours in Georgia heat with no AC...whats worse my electrical wiring was really fucked up so none of the buttons worked to ajust the air... so it just blew full blast heat on us the whole way to alpharetta.. Unity passed out from the heat exhaustian, I road with all the windows down but the sun pounding down, with the Ga humidity and my heat on full blast nearly killed me. when we finally made it to alpharetta my rig fell apart... I left the car... it was her last ride... she made all the way there and then keeled over, almost 250,000, miles on her and I knew i would never drive the benz again.. but it didnt matter i made it! The first night in alpharetta I ate some albert hoffman special and enjoyed one of the best setlists i have ever encountered... ( granted I have only seen phish 14 times)  but for me.. it was golden...Opened with DInner and a Movie really jazzy lots of energy great opener - right into Moma dance( one of my all time faves) into Possum( always a crowd pleaser) then talking heads cover cities ( so funky truly epic cover...  I hadnt seen cities since miami nye 09, Then the boys started fluffhead so epic... at this point I am eyeing down every security guard i see in the path between me and the vortex... Lucy starts to really intensify, then I realize its now or never.. my friends ( mushroom casualties at this point) are both in looking at me with paranoia and fear when I tell them Im heading to the front.. and follow me! I loook at them both and say " just dont stop dancing! just boogie and no one will even notice! just surrender to the flow and no one will even know" and then start dancing my way towards the box seats next to kuroda's light board. The music and the lights were on point and I kept dancing towards them until i realized i had grooved my way into someones box section! i look over and notice two dudes and two chix in suits and dresses sitting in the chairs watching the show, and giving me a look of confusion. for a minute i thought " hmmmm, maybe they want me to move, but then I looked again and noticed the high heels and the alcohol... and I realized trying to comunicate with them would be nearly imposible.They looked at me as if I was a creature from the black lagoon, and none of them seemed to be enjoying themselves. I felt sad for them, for a minute, and wanted to pick one of the girls up and spin her around like a kid... just so she could understand how i felt! I truly was overjoyed... i looked to my left and there was Kuroda doing his thing with the lava lamps going and the candles lit... It was like watching a mad scientist... shuffling wildly across the rugs to random various nobs adding just the right hues to really accent the incredible music i was witnessing... The boys rolled into Ocelot one of my new phaves... then into Ginsing Sulivan a song very close to my heart because its about my home state... after that the boys started to pick up speed into kill devil falls, then slowed it down for a nice rubadub with bathtub gin, I especially enjoyed the gin at this show, at one point they went into a really spacey jam that turned really dark towards the end and then full circled around to the original feeling...right into light up or leave me alone, wich i hadnt heard since last summer tour! and then finished the set with a strong funky Cavern that left everyone itching for more. when the boys finally came back they started with Carini wich I really enjoyed... really metal sounding song with heavy undertones and a killer beat... wich got me warmed up for one of my all time favorites sand! always a dance party with that song...into DWD with mike rolling with the bass  and crazy licks from trey.I hear the cowbell and instantly  a huge grin commandeers my face..... I know the begining of a maze any day! and it was an incredible maze indeed... had me snapping in  and out of my own trip the whole time... Then MeatStick! such a romantic song indeed, very ragae. Meatstick turned into a wild jam leading into 2001 wich had me peaking early =) then into bug wich i have grown to love after experiencing it live 4 times..at this point im chuggin the H20 after the massive explosion of energy was released during 2001. and out of nowhere the ampitheater takes on a purple velvety glow and I hear page strike those familiar notes...and my heart skipped a beat. In that moment I knew, I was exactly where i was suposed to be! A day in the life of all the covers they play, lil tears of joy rolled down my face and I sang along with paige re-living my first experience with LSD and phish from 3 years before, when I first heard this song performed live at my second show ever at the roo in 09. then again in alpharetta for the fourth of july for summer tour in 2010. as the familiar words and phrases englufed me, filling my heart with phuzy goodness. I realized that everytime I have witness phish perform this song, Lucy was there. My mind soared with all the feelings of comfort and joy and love that I have felt over the years everytime I have heard this song... I thought about all the trials and all the "mistakes" that had led me to this moment.. and I closed my eyes and held my hands up to the sky and felt unbelievably grateful for all the lil moments in my life the good and the bad, all the times when i had doubts and all the time i had fears... it was all leading me to this moment in time! I felt divine intervention and i knew... in that moment that i was Home! after that emotional beatles flashback experience... my heart raced as they performed run like an antelope! I think i spent more time in the air then on the ground during that song =) when they finished antelope I was screaming encore but I didnt need one... i just had the setlist of my dreams and I couldnt have asked for anything more... but of course they came back... and performed quin the eskimo... wich I love .... leaving with a bang! The next night I returned to the venue with no expectations! I had purchased lawn tix for the second night...opened with Paul and Silas, then into BOTT- love when they play this bluesy kinda feeling jam... a lil repetitive but its ok cuz the lyrics are catchy...into Foam-then Water in the sky wich is a beautiful peice of composition ironically it started rainging during water in the sky but at the time it felt good after being in the humid heat all day.. Then They performed Runaway Jim... wich was the first song i ever heard phish perform live.. in knoxville.. wich got me hoppin. then they performed army of one... I started to get optimistic about the rain at this point but then my friend unity handed me to globs of choclatey shrooms I ate em and then toked a bowl, Phish began playing Roses my favorite ween song!  then they played timber... and at this point a giant black cloud of death begins decending on us until it fills the entire sky... and inside of it are litle flashing of electricity and lightening bolts... the boys continue to play into mound... I love MOund... the sky continues to grow darker and darker.. and the rain really starts to pick up... its hard to hear the boys becuase of the thunder... then the wind picks up and the boys leave the stage....At this point the rain has been rushing down the lawn for a couple of hours and the lawn baisically becomes a muddy slip in slide... the lightening gets worse and the trees behind me start to shake and thrash and everyone around me starts running towards the pavillion.. I grab what few things i can and try to stay with my friends... at this point every1 is huddling under the pavillion and there is no room... and peope are still pushing from behind.. i start to hyper ventilate a little and try to maintain my composure... i can feel myself begining to panic and my mental state begins to slip... my white hippie skirt is now seethrough and brown from the mudd from the lawn and the water is continueing to rush past my feet. some guy behind me starts talking about 2012... a young couple in front of me hold each other close as if it were there last... i begin to cry.. and think about all of the things i would say to my family and friends and the people i love... but my phone is not with me and all i can do is cross my fingers and wait.. I think about how badly I wanted to be there and how i had worked and fought to get to this show... only so that i could end up seperated from every1 i kno and alone at an outdoor ampitheatre with two tornados in the area... the guy next to me looks at me and asks if im ok... I will be... I say. Thats the spirit he says and then lights up a Joint and proceeds to hand it to me.. the enebriated girl behind me shouts fervently..Well if this is the end...lets fuckin party... the rain finally starts to slow down... but the lightening isnt stoping... I wait for what feels like an eternity.... half the audience is gone so I end up right up front, I meet an interesting girl named malissa and we hit it off instantly ( like most phans) She keeps talking about when are they coming back cant wait for them to come back out and rock... I dont wanna say it but I truly start to doubt the second set... then after the rain slowed a lil... they finally uncover the instruments... and I cannot even believe my eyes.. Im up front for the lights, great seats.. and plenty of room to boogie down! they finish mound.. and then unleash the tweezer... that was one hell of a raging dance party...everyones all wet and excited! right into julius- then like a gift from above they deliver an epic slave... then after getting good and warmed back up they unleash bowie- jaming down into Suzy greenburg.. all phish classics..then gotta jibboo had me groovin up and down til they brought out the hood... wich turned slightly trancy and very psychadelic after hood they perform a classic rock hit character zero.. at this point kurodas lights with phishs music and the lightening storm behind them... is one of the most undescribably incredible things i have ever seen. I just remember thinking about all the fear and anxiety i felt... was all worth it! so that i could witness... the magic! sadly i wasnt impressed with Birdwatcher.. but i did enjoy watching them have fun do it... then they performed kung..my first kung... very epic! after they left the stage a bunch of ppl dipped but i knew they would play an encore.. they always do and if any audience earned it ... it was us! when phish returned they performed Funky Bitch... wich pumped every1 up and then ended strong with the tweezer reprise.. i have seen a few tweezer reprise endings... and they are always very strong and very intense... I am always left in shock after they end with the tweezreprise.. needless to say... it was truly an unforgettable adventure.. I will never forget those shows.. I will never forget those two nights... it was one hell of a ride! 

• We were lined up to stay at Yasgur's Farm during the Memorial Day weekend shows this summer. Well, for those of you who missed it, turns out that Yasgur's was a gigantic failure and almost nobody ended up being able to stay there. We walked back from the first night's show to find an angry mob of heads and our cars gone! Bummed is what you are when you come out to your car and it's been towed! Well, we were able to crash for a few hours in the yard AFTER paying the ridiculous fines and towing fees, but the next day we couldn't find a hotel room within 30 miles - except for an expensive Mariott suite. After telling our sob-story to the woman at the desk (and flirting with her... but only a little bit), she knocked the price down as far as she could, gave us a bunch of extra soap, toothbrushes, towels - all the little things she could do to make our stay easier on us financially (we'd thrown our "place-to-stay" money down on Yasgur's and I ended up having to float the room on the credit card for a little while). The room was INCREDIBLE, plenty of space for all five of us, and we met a TON of other heads out in the beautiful courtyard - including a guy who worked for Mariott at the corporate level and got us a "family discount" code for the rest of our summer tour. We stayed in Mariott suites for 50 bucks a night for the rest of the summer! The show that night was a rager, and when we got back to the hotel, what did we see in the lot but... the tour buses?! I KNOW, RIGHT?! We hoped to meet one of the band members but didn't stalk them, figured they value their privacy just as much (if not more) than anyone else. But, the next day, my girlfriend and I were sipping coffee outside when CK5 walked up and struck up a conversation with us. We didn't even know it was him until I started raving about the lights. "Thanks," he said, "I'm glad you like my work!" That was the cherry on top of a fantastic weekend. Phish RAGED Sullivan County that weekend. In addition to partying hard, Friday was my 21st birthday - that's right, I turned 21 on the tour opener! As we were walking in to the venue, someone even miracled me and my girlfriend with AMAZING pavs right behind the soundboard! We were all too happy to give our lawns away to a couple other heads. God bless Phish!

• I will never forget the show I had just before Hiatus. I think it was Irvine 2000. anyway, I was looking for a ticket for the show, when a friend told me she needed help registering people to vote. She then told me that the helper position came with a free ticket! I was so stoked, getting a free ticket was just the thing I needed being on the road and low on $$$. So, I went in early with her and registered people to vote during the first set. It was great, we had to work for three songs, then we got to go in to the show for the next three songs, perfect, then we had the second set off, to go in and enjoy the rest of the show. I was working when some friends from home who were also doing tour came up to me and were telling me stories about how great their show was, and how great their seats were. we agreed to meet just before the second set so we could hang for the show. When we met up,  my friends told me they had a ticket next to them in the second row that wasn't being used, (just go with the story) and they gave it to me to use. I couldn't believe it, Free ticket, and now I'm second row, and the seat was right in front of trey... I was on cloud nine, boogieing my face off, having the time of my life. The boys were playing Halley's Comet, when my friend starts tapping me on the shoulder. "Quick, look at the stage, quick, look at Trey.." he said as I was getting so into the moment, I had closed my eyes to hear the music better. I open my eyes and look towards the stage from my second row spot, and see Trey. He was no more than 7 feet away, staring me right in the eyes, laughing, and making these faces at me. I couldn't believe it, and I freaked out kind of, the moment was so intense, that I had to close my eyes back up and turn around. Was this really happening?  I didn't know what to do... I gathered  all the courage I had to make sure it wasn't some kind of dream. I turned around , opened my eyes, and there he was again, staring me down, and laughing even harder... I guess I didn't know what to do, because I couldn't look at Trey, he was staring me down. My friends were all so excited, giving me pats on the back, shoulder rubs, and high fives, and I was too chicken to look Trey back in the eyes. Now to add insult to injury, while the band was ending the song, Trey changes his playing and timing, and starts into another song that I recognize... "Walk Away"... WHAT!!! Are you kidding me??? My friends start high fiving me and patting me on the back again as the band starts in on this Joe Walsh cover that rocks. I'm in shock, not knowing what to do until the chorus comes up and I start singing along at the top of my lungs, "sehttp://blogs.westword.com/backbeat/2011/08/win_tickets_to_see_phish_at_dicks.phpems to me, you don't want to talk about it, seems to me, you just turn you're pretty head and walk away..."  I'm wandering to my self,"Was that for me?", and "Wow, nice to meet you too Mr. Anastasio."

• Finally made it front row center with my friends in Charlotte in 2010 - after being on the road for many many days of first leg.Even driving after an awesomely mindblowing perfect flowing I saw it again theme show which tops some of phans favorite list, we drove all the way up to CMAC for the highlight "i am the walrus"  and back down to the  last 4 shows Raleigh, Charlotte and 2 Alpharettas. Raleigh featuring light up or leave me alone, have mercy and time loves a hero as well as a 20 minute boogie on reggae woman........ (my favorite show of the four).  So we were in Charlotte and got seats last minute really close - by 2nd set came we made our way up to the front row (surprisingly not filled) CENTER - and the biggest bust out I've ever known droppped........ FUCK YOUR FACE....   HOW RUDE!!!!!!   LOL  .... that's all I've got.  We'll see what Wilson drops in  D3NV3R .........

• I forgot to add that CID entertainment called me the next day to ask if I was ok because I hadn't checked in to my hotel.  We ended up paying $500 extra for a room we did not reserve in addition to the one I had pre-paid through CID at a different hotel!  Damn

• Telluride last summer.  My favorite tour buddy, who I shall call Phoebe for the purposes of the story booked our flight to Colorado Springs as all the flights to Telluride were sold out.  Apparently, we should've just driven from Berkeley.  We had each, independently, google mapped the distance from there to T-ride and came up with about 2 hours.  We arrive, call the local car rental place we had booked and wait for them to come pick us up at the airport.  In the car, the employee asked us where we were traveling to which we enthusiastically replied, "TELLURIDE!!!"  The employee said, "where?"  Hmmmm.... you'd think a local should know about a famous ski resort 2 hours away, right?  Turns out, it was actually at least 6 hours away according to both the car rental people and VZ navigator.  We had to fly in the day of the first show and it was already about 3:30pm.  Shit!  So, we get in our rollerskate of a rental car, seriously I think the engine may have been powered by little squirrels... and start hauling ass.  I was nominated to drive for obvious reasons (you'd have to know me.)  I was driving 92mph which was as fast as the skate would allow, through all sorts of speed limit areas (25-60?)  It gets dark along the way.  It rains along the way.  We finally take the final turn that will take us into town.  The woman at the entry point to town was refusing to let us in!  I can't even really remember why.  I finally resorted to speaking with a male emplyee and flirting my way into a pass.  Before the trip, so many emails were sent out warning about parking in town being for LOCALS WITH PERMITS ONLY.  We could hear the first set underway as we got into town.  We had a choice.  Drive to the hotel & take the gondola, thereby missing most of the show, or park where the fuck ever and deal with it later.  Obviously we decided to park as close as possible.  We ended up parking where we could SEE the stage, rock star parking. As we grabbed our stuff to head in, I surprised Phoebe with some mollz I had managed to bring on the plane.  We hurriedly dipped right in.  Healthy dips.  Not 5 minutes after entering the show, a girl comes up to us and says, "do you guys want to finish this chocolate?  It got me WAY higher than I meant to get."  To which we of course reply, "sure, thanks!"  We were just happy to be there and to at least catch the end of first set.  So... at some point very close to the end of the show, Phoebe and I look at each other.  Yep, we were in the same boat.  We were on another planet completely and still on the way up.  As the show ended, and we kept blasting further and further into outer space, we realized that even with all of our combined years of psychedelic experience, we were...uncomfortably high.  It was all good till the show ended, then it was hilarious.  We decided to leave with the herd instead of hanging around.  We got as far as the first bench we found right outside the venue.  Occasionally, people would stop and try to talk to us.  Not much success there, or so I gathered from their reactions.  We overhear someone warning another that the altitude will increase the potency of whatever you take, exponentially.  (Like some recursive virus.)  Awesome.  Didn't factor that one in.  So, we head in to downtown Telluride feeling as if we're in Diagon Alley.  We had no idea where the fuck we were or what was around us, as we arrived after dark.  Out of nowhere, a cop comes running across the street with a flashlight pointed at the dude in front of us (still in the herd), yelling, "WHAT'S IN THE BAG?!  SHOW ME WHAT'S IN THE BAG!!!"  Fucking intense!!!  As we start to pull back and try to avoid whatever the fuck is going on at all cost, the dude holds up his baggie and rolls it down, showing it to the cop.  He says (all freaked out), "animal crackers?"  Indeed, the suspicious baggie was filled with the most innocent of snack foods.  The cop yells, "SERIOUSLY?!"  To which all of his cop buddies and every hippie within earshot cracks up.  We tried to walk around town and encountered many others experiencing the same lack of altitude planning with regards to their respective drug intakes.  Finally, we started freezing our asses off and decided to try to find the car again in hopes of procuring some more clothing.  Somehow, we found the car, got layers and sat on the curb behind the car.  Every time we thought we were as high as we could possible be, mmmmmmmmmm, there it went taking it up another notch!  We were mostly rocking ourselves like rain man and trying to have some semblance of 'normal' conversation as a comfort measure.  "Lost my shit, trying to act casual," came out of Phoebe's mouth and we started laughing hysterically.  As we're now laying on the sidewalk crying/laughing, a couple guys came up and asked us if we needed any help.  Apparently it was obvious.  He gave me step-by-step instructions on how to get a pen and write a note to leave on the car.  This is what I came up with, "Please don't tow this car.  We are really high and can't drive.  Will come get it in the morning.  Thank you!"  The nice guys then got us a bike taxi, paid for it (awesome guys) and we made it to the line for the gondola just in time for the last ride up the mountain.  In that line, we met some really cool people we had just met on a BART train after the Berkeley shows.  One of them was wearing a great big magical poofy jacket from which she proceeded to pull out beer, ganja, a new lighter for me and a piece of hematite!  Awesome ride up.  We got directions to what we thought was our hotel from 3 different locals.  All set.  Or not.  We somehow ended up walking through the mountain forest which, at that point, felt like Hoth.  No feeling in our extremities, but still  laughing our asses off (SO thankful I was with Phoebe), we just keep walking.  Eventually we come to a clearing in which there is a gigantic (at least that's how it seemed) hotel, I think it was called the Peak.  There are security guards outside who spot us and immediately ask if we need help.  Understandable stifling laughs, one of them offers to drive us to our hotel, explaining that it would take us all night to walk there.  Oops!  We gratefully accept and climb into a brand new Caddy Escalade!  WTF?!  How the hell did we end up here?  I've been told I was asking questions about the specifications of this new planet (which was actually the Caddy).  How much oxygen is there?  Are there any other forms of life besides those found on Earth?  Yep.  The driver informs us that we just missed Phish having a glass of wine here not 5 minutes ago!  Proximity alarms went off!  So cool.  Of all times to have met the band, that would've been a funny moment.  We get dropped off at a hotel and I brave the front desk while Phoebe waits outside  I ask to check in under the reservation in my name.  The guy acts as though he has the reservation and checks us right in.  We became very involved with the full length mirror on the closet and took some hilarious pix which were like Ansel Adams photos at the time.  Phoebe decides to brave a solo adventure to find food.  The kitchen is closed at the hotel and she ends up getting a ride in some local's truck to the one place rumored to be open that only sells beer and fries.  She came back with a shitload of fries and they were the best fries I've ever had.  In the morning, we marvel at where we were and how insane it would've been to have gotten lost in the mountains all night.  We made our way down to the central part of town and our car, miraculously, was still there!!!  The note worked!  There is much more to the rest of the experience, but those were the best parts.  The people and employees of Telluride were so consistently awesome, helpful and kind.  LOVED every second of that trip.

• hope this one wins! like it, like it, like it!

• stop being such a pussy, Getz.  Your story was about as interesting as watching paint dry.   KYS.

• Phantastic Tales! 

• 5/2/1992 Cabaret Metro, Chicago Il--I was working at a Sound Warehouse and the Elektra sales rep put me on the guest list because he didn't really want to go but they had comps to get rid of.  No one from the store wanted to go with me to the show so I miracled a dirt surfer outside, but since the tickets were on the guest list I told him we had to go in together.  The line was around the block but at Metro they let you in a side line if you were on the guest list so we just stolled in past my future husband and a few hundred folks waiting in line.  He still likes to remind me how much he hated me for what he considered to be cutting in line.  Phish was fun, but the opening band Col. Bruce Hampton & the Aquarium Resque Unit stole the show for me...somewhere out there that dirt surfer still owes me a tape of that night for getting him in! On a side note, Alpine Valley 1999 while I did not see anyone give birth I did see a chick pee in the middle of the tapers section because she knew she would never make it all the way up the hill to the bathroom...

•  Though Phish tales come in many forms and involve many strange twists of fate, something I'll never forget is the moment I saw the band at Lemonwheel. Pulling on to the tarmac in Limestone, Maine, my buddy and I parked and set up camp, two Canadians eager for a great weekend south of the border. We found ourselves parked next to a nice couple from Connecticut who were just finishing up with their tent. We offered cold beer from our cooler, they handed us a packed bowl and friends were quickly made. Chuck and Tammy had a few years on us, but they went toe-to-toe with us all weekend. They were a great couple and a lot of fun to hang with. They were in an especially good mood as the Monday that marked the end of the festival was their 19th wedding anniversary and they had booked a two-week camping trip following Lemonwheel. We kept sharing our drinks, they kept packing their bowl and the four of us basically spent the entire festival together. Of course the weekend was fantastic on a thousand different levels, the music was great, the vibe was positive and a good time was had by all. When Monday morning finally rolled around my friend and I woke up and started packing our gear early in anticipation of the fourteen-hour drive to come. Taking a break in the packup I noticed that Chuck and Tammy were up and about, but it was clear something was seriously wrong. I could see that Tammy was very upset, crying uncontrollably. Chuck was holding her, his head leaning in and touching hers; he was obviously trying to console his wife. We knew it was their anniversary and had no idea what the problem could be. Soon I caught Chuck alone by his truck. “What's wrong?” I asked. “Tammy lost her wedding ring,” he explained. “When she woke up this morning it was gone. She never takes it off.” “We've looked everywhere,” he said. “She's so upset I think we're going to have to cancel our camping trip. I just can't get her to stop crying.” What a downer of a way to end what was otherwise a great weekend, I thought, and it couldn't have happened to nicer people. My friend and I quietly finished packing while Tammy sat sobbing. With the car loaded and the engine running, my buddy and I were leaning against the fender ready to go. We hadn't spoken to Tammy all morning as she was so upset, and with a stone in my heart we readied ourselves to walk over and say goodbye. I turned to my friend. “I just wish there was some way we could help.” As I said it my eyes scanned the ground, hoping against hope that our new friends wedding ring would turn up. In retrospect it was literally the least I could do, taking a casual look from left to right without as much as stirring from my spot leaning against the car. It was useless, it was futile, but I felt like I had to do something. And then I saw it. Under their truck, a good twenty-five feet from me. Somehow the sun was glinting off of the ring just right, and in the shade just behind the front tire I saw the gold shine straight into my eye. It was a miracle, but I was sure of it. I could see the band. Saying nothing I walked over and easy-peasy, picked it up. I was utterly shocked that I had found the ring so effortlessly. Tammy was sitting on her blanket with her back to me. I could see her shoulders convulsing as she continued silently weeping, Chuck sat in front of her with his eyes shut, holding her hand. Elated, it felt like my feet weren't even touching the ground when I came up behind her, and without a word I extended my hand and held the ring in front of Tammy's face. I remember that she stopped breathing for a moment; for an instant it felt like the whole world had stopped. And then they exploded. The tears came even harder, and from both of them. Weeping with joy they embraced so tightly I thought they would break. Then they grabbed me and the three of us jumped up and down as one. I can't remember ever feeling as elated as I did in that moment. They couldn't form words to thank me, just tears and hugs. As I mentioned, our car was packed and the motor already running. And less than a minute after finding the ring we were pulling away, driving off into the proverbial sunset, Tammy and Chuck still hugging as they wiped tears and waved goodbye. On an incredible high we slowly weaved the car towards the exits, passing by a thousand other stories at a thousand other campsites along the way. It was an incredible ending to an unforgettable weekend. A miracle on the tarmac.

• that's because he wrote it for that website, Sherlock Holmes. DUH! Do your homework before you look like a fool again.

• whoa. I was 19 and totally starstruck. Please tell me, Freedom, what witticisms would 19 year-old you have enlightened the band with? Oh, and dropping out of college was the best decision of my life. I moved to Denver because of it, have a super great circle of friends, and a blooming music career. I'm pretty sure that beats anything I could have done with my Vocal Performance/Dramatic Arts degree. Boom. (vote for me. I deserve it...totally)

• It’s 1992, my senior year of high school.  My buddy, then at University of Rhode Island (URHigh), has a car and comes to pick my girlfriend and I for the phish show across teh state at the Orpheum in Boston.  We’d seen a few Dead shows, but were becoming increasingly interested in Phish who was playing consistently incredible shows in intimate venues in the northeast. This was an exciting time of the band on the rise, consistently outdoing themselves, and building a fanbase.  In these days we were taking hallucinogens at every show we attended.  Needless to say, this added significantly to the mystique of the band and the impression, both imagined and often real, that they were constantly F***ing with our heads. The show was great and most certainly the best we had seen yet.  I also remember hearing Primus for the first time on my friend “Killer’s” walkman at set break.  I was horrified to hear a band even weirder than phish. After the show we crossed  the street into the Boston Common park and hung out at Frog Pond to gather ourselves.  After an eternity (20 minutes) we headed to the car.  Maestro was the designated driver as always .  We drove by under the bright lights of the Orpheum and headed into Boston towards the highway.  I was riding shot gun as we pulled alongside a convertible.  I was like “holy sh*t guys, it’s page with some chick!”.  We waved and he saw us but kept on driving.  Everyone was pumped that we had just seen page and we kept driving.  A few blocks and turns later, we come up alongside another car.  I look over and it’s Trey.  “dude, holy crap, it’s trey!”.  Trey looks over and see’s us.  He was driving, this is not imagined, and he pulled ahead of us in the next lane a bit.  So everyone yells to pull back up to confirm it was really him.  As we pull up Trey now has his window down, left hand on the wheel ,and his right hand reaching over his face with three fingers pulling up on his nose and checks into a frightening face.  “OMG! He’s still f***ing with us!”.  Now we’re actually a little shocked, and freaked out about a conspiracy and spend a long time discussing the significance of what we had seen.  Fortunately, we make it back safe and crash hard.  So the next day we need to drive back to western mass and school.  We hop on I90 west and hit a rest stop and smoke a bit.  Due to last night’s festivities our state of mind is eerily similar to the past nights.  We get back on the road we drive up on a blue van.  Not a 15 passenger van but something you could probably sleep in.  It has VT plates and a license plate that says “Foxy Mama”. We pull alongside, and I swear to god, Mike Gordon is driving.  So we roll down the window and wave and he ignores us.  This time I happen to take a picture on a disposable point and shoot camera as evidence.  Needless to say, this was a Phishy  24 hours with all the elements of a prank but even weirder as it was all coincidence.  Have fun at the shows everyone!

• The Chaos of Beauty and Vice Versa The band is raging and we're right there with them. The space they have to fill is incredible. I haven't seen a show that is both as loose and languid as it is tight and blazing. They have the space to stretch it out and in that space they fill it with millions of perfect notes. The butchering of Mango is unimportant. The Watchful Horsemasters and the nasty Stash already ensured that. Then taking it into Rift and then into Scents and Subtle Sounds is more than making up for it. People are freaking out so that by the time Antelope lifts me off my aching, worn out feet I know I have to stay super vigilant to ensure Lu stays safe.  Click with the light as a wook stomps through.  Click again with the light as a woman leaps into our fray.  She’s nice and doesn’t mean it, but she bounds off as quick as she arrived. I took 1/2 a mushroom pill on Friday night that came on quick and then leveled out for a bit before sliding into a subtle buzz. For Saturday I'm just boozing and puffing and it was really a lack of choosing rather than a conscious decision that led me to this place. But I'm happy with it. I'm off E & Molly forever because of what it does to my stomach afterward, and I didn’t think acid was the right choice because, well, I have a pregnant wife with me and I want to be able to react coherently if shit gets crazy. Besides, beer + pot is what I love best. And lastly, at this point, it is all willpower. After what I went through on this hot, hot day, I am standing only because if I sit down, I won't get up. When I need to check on Lu or take a rest, I take a knee. Just one, just for a little while. Anything further towards the ground and gravity wouldn't let me go. So for Antelope I'm leaping on legs that barely hold up. The rest of the show aside from Caspian is everything I wanted and more. And even the placement of that one leaves me happy because I know it won't be a set closer now. The band is pushing and pushing, trying to find new ways to make old sounds even better, and it works. The smiles and laughter and random conversations are hilarious to the point of pain. My stomach hurts. My face hurts. My arm hurts from pitching. My legs are jello and yet there is nothing to do but send all the awesome they are creating right back at them. And if I'm tired, you can only imagine how exhausted Lu is. She's basically 2 people at this point, one inside her drawing on all her resources for rapid, rapid growth, and then there's everything she needs to keep herself going too. Number Line > Twist > 2001 > Hood > Cavern? Are you fucking kidding me? It just would not stop and no one wanted it to. We share beers, I smoke more bowls than I ever thought possible and I dance through the pain, ignoring the raw fact that I am well beyond tired. I barely remember Loving Cup because I was so groggy, but Tweezer Reprise wakes me right the fuck up because, as usual, it is thundiferous awesomeness. With the end of the show come choices, and so many different ideas of what to do now. Lu needs to get back home to the air mattress and rest. Other people need food and bathrooms. All I can think about is what is in store for us next. I have no doubt there is another set coming, I'm just not sure when or where. Will they play up here somewhere? Will they take a flatbed through the camp? Will they set up as some Wook band in a random camping area? What are they going to do? As soon as the crowd thins a bit we make our move toward the Ferris wheel and rest rooms. Lu is fine with going back and me staying up here, but I insist on walking her to the gate at the very least, provided Miz Divine is going back with her. If not, there's no doubt I will walk her all the way back to camp and then back to the venue. She says it's fine. I tell her I'm walking her to the gate. She says I don't have to. I tell her I'm walking her to the gate. She tries to say something else and I say "Lu! I'm walking you to the fucking gate, at the very least, please stop arguing! I want to do this. I should walk you all the way back, but if it's you and Miz Divine together I'm fine with it." Then I kiss her and rub her belly. A few others are sticking around, but they need to piss. I tell them I will meet them at the Wheel in a few minutes and then I head for the exit with my wife and our friend. On the way out I sidle up to security in red and say, "So, what's the deal? What time are they coming on?" He looks at me quizzically, then with a little smile and says, "Well it's supposed to be secret, but the curfew is 1am." Checking the time and seeing it's after midnight I know that can't be true, but now I've confirmed something is definitely up. I ask the next guy. "It's a secret, but I wouldn't be back anytime after 1:30," he tells me and I know that is information I can run with. Just beyond the gate I kiss my wife goodnight (again) and send her on her way (again) and then roll back into the venue, telling everyone I see that they should definitely not be leaving because the shit is going to go down. "Secret set 1:30am" I say to anyone that meets my eyes. "Secret set, gonna happen, where the fuck are you going?" Most people just roll past oblivious, but a few get caught and start asking questions. I tell them exactly what I know, and I'm sure it's enough to make them think twice about leaving. A few don't even ask a thing and just turn right around. I catch up with the others at the bathrooms and then we start to follow the zombie-ish masses gathering near the storage shed, next to the huge silver Superball. I see a line of security on horses just past the edge of the massing crowd and I know we're in the right place. Are they going to come out of the Superball? Will they play on top of the shed? Are they going to come out in some kind of car or flatbed and lead us around like the pied crazies we are? No one knows anything except that something is happening and so we gather and we wait and question everything we see and hear. And we are hearing a whole lot of crazy shit from the quadrophonic speakers set up all around us. The Beauty of Chaos and Vice Versa We are packed tight against on another and no one knows what the hell we're doing, what we're waiting for or what is going to happen. I was mere feet from the silver Superball and I was sure Fishman was going to be playing drums up there once it unfolded, with the rest of the band on top of the shed. The shed is only feet away, but I can't see anything going on. The line of horses pulled away and let us move forward, but nothing happened after that for a while. The sounds around me are insane. Invisible race cars zoom through the crowd from the other side of the shed and then vanish into the distance. Clips of Hendrix flutter through, a line here, a riff there. Hendrix is so going to be played. There's an If 6 Were 9 sculpture and I'm sure it's Axis tonight. No fucking doubt. Unless it's not. I see Atut and ask him questions. He’s convinced we need to get to the center of the quadraphonic madness, but I want to be closer to the Ball or the Shed. I feel like whatever it is, it's going to be there. The confusion everyone shared was beautiful. We knew something was happening, but no idea what. Friends splintered, caught by different ideas of what do to. Nuwie texts me and says they are by the Ferris wheel. I still haven't see her this weekend so I'm tempted, but I'm so close to the shed and the ball, I tell her to make her way up towards me. I text Lu to tell her to put the Bunny on and make everyone camping around us do it too. Someone else tells me the Bunny just broadcasted a really weird message. Lu texts that it is raining by them and that there is thunder and lightning. I see one bolt in the distance, but no rain hits us. She puts the rain fly on and has the Bunny on but doesn't know what is going on. I don't either. Then there's a cheer and they seem to be starting. The doors of the shed are up, but I can't see anything besides some vague silhouettes and blue / yellow / green / red lights. The sounds are like nothing I've ever heard from Phish, but they are unmistakeably theirs. I move away from the Superball and back out, trying to get a better view. I bump into Kdawg and we talk about how we don’t know what’s going on.  I'm waiting for the ultimate reveal, where the frosted glass goes up too and there they are right in front of us. The jam goes deep and dark, then filled with sonic twangs, then the plaintive cries of a whale herd in heat. I move around to the left, trying to see, but all I can do is hear. The quadrophonic speakers are fucking with me. I feel like I'm chasing them around the shed. Single instruments I've never heard of are emanating in sonic forms from a single speaker only to be whipped out of sync into another vector of the space. People are everywhere, all over the place and even though it is happening right fucking now, everyone is still totally confused. Is this it? Is there more? Will we see them? Is that them? What the fuck is going on? Then I find a spot to chill where I can see the shed and lights and hear all the speakers in all their unique glory and I realize THIS IS IT. This is it. What they are doing is showing us how they think before they make songs. This is their warm-up their protojams their private zone. They can't see us. We can't see them. That quantum slip of privacy is something totally unique, something we've never seen or heard from them. I'm getting the raw DNA of tunes, before they are tunes. Pre-jams. Primoridal grooves. Fish is hammering away. Bass bombs fly out of nowhere, connected to nothing but Mike's mind. Trey is wailing and twisting, braiding his strings into octaves and riffs impossible in most situations.  Page is the god of beautiful chaos held between his fingers and passed through his mind onto the keys, onto our ears and faces and hairs. I find a spot to chill against the wall of the Bull Run that I had been in a few days before. I lean against the wall and feel the structure vibrating and popping with their sonic assault. I sit down, knees up. It's the first time I've sat in hours. I put my head back and soak it all in and then suddenly I realize I fell asleep for a moment in the midst of that madness so I leap to my feet and start moving again. I find another spot and sit down again, shaking off the sleep, wide-eyed and aggressively alert on purpose not leaning back, and then some nice people offer me a chair they are not using. I take them up on the offer as the guy in front of me somehow dances to the insanity and I sit there and enjoy it all, suddenly wide awake again. Then it changes and they are actually playing... something. Sleeping Monkey! Lu called it! Holy shit! The tune blurs and twists, the instruments each contained in a single speaker until they switch and swirl, the tune going twisty and weird. Tripping Monkey, I think. Tripping Monkey. We all sing along loving it, wondering still what the fuck is going on and if there is more. There isn't, this is it. They wind the tune down and then finish. The lights in the shed go out and we are all left wondering what the fuck just happened and just how awesome was it? Sat Night DJ Stupid That's it. That's it? That's more than enough I remind myself, then don't move. People are completely spaced out and zombified. Heat, 4 sets of music. Chaos and beauty all mixed up into a perfect froth. These are the nights I live for. This is the night, the night it's always been, the night that isn't even ours, but just something we get to play with every now and then when everything slips right into place. But slip is such a poor word for all the effort it took everyone to get exactly here. The art around us, the sheer presence of these people at 2:30am, that our favorite band just did something most can barely understand. It takes a long, dusty road to get there, but we all always know when we've arrived. Oh and by the way this is only Saturday. Full Sunday of nothing tomorrow followed a whole other fucking show. This isn't "it" at all. That was something alright, but there's still so much more, like me getting up from this comfy beach chair beside the Bull Run, walking past the ferris wheel, down the dusty road past the ice and into the vending area to get something eat. Starved since dinner and I want another lamb & chicken gyro with salad and tahini sauce. Damn fucking straight I do. Just gotta go ahead and get up and do it. But then I start talking to the nice woman next to me and end up in an all-too coherent conversation about my dead son Silas and my newly, finally pregnant-again wife here at SBIX but back at camp listening and then I’m listening to what the nice woman and her friends have been doing around the place.  So much easy kindness.  So many wonderful fools.  So many beautiful people. I relaxed into my Saturday latenight and the friendly conversation and watched the hippies and freaks and wooks and wives stagger and leap and run and stroll out of the storage shed, out past the ferris wheel, out into the raging camp. Recharged I stood up quickly probably startling her and then thanked them all for sharing their chair. So simple and kind and yet exactly what I needed, but now it was time to go on to everything else. Saturday night after all. Saturday fucking night. Chucks & Noonan were gone. Hadn't seen Atut in a while. Didn't want to go to bed and I was starving so I whipped out the phone and checked my messages.  It had been a great exchange with Lu over the course of the evening and I needed to send her one last txt.  Before firing it off, I reviewed our exchange.  It made me smile so wide, I nearly stumbled over myself, already on the move. 1:25am her: What's the deal with the bunny and is phish playing? me: Starting now her: A lot of people there? 1:31am her: is this them? 1:34am her: We can hear it from here without the radio! Perfectly clear! What stage? me: Can't even see them. In the storage usa building by the superball her: I can't believe its them! 2:20am me: Sleeping Monkey! 2:23am her: Chucks & noonan came back. I can't believe sleeping monkey! I better get my points!! me: Oh it counts. Sickness. her: So cool. We hear perfectly!! 2:27am her: I'm in bed now listening. Love you. Xo. And then the next step as I exit the venue and start walking toward the center area between all the camps.  South Dakota is raging, the dusty road is packed with people wandering about. 2:54am me: Xo! Getting food. Gonna stop by Tim / Sar The line for food out at the craft area in the center of the camping zone was longer than I had stood on all weekend, aside from getting propane.  What is everyone doing awake!?  Oh yeah, that’s what we do. Stay awake and eat and drink and live and walk and wander and laugh.  All night, as long as we can. I knew I wanted exactly this meal and I was not going to falter. Love don’t you falter! I sang to myself.  Finally in my hand and mouth and belly, the gyro of lamb and chicken was everything I needed and exactly right. Best of all around the corner from where I stood were another crew of friends I knew would be hanging out. Tim & Sars had driven around and around trying to find a spot, and then finally they just went for it and grabbed some space behind the center camp area, but next to a clothing vendor, so they figured it was going to be pretty chill. Earlier that day Sars had trucked over a whole bunch of friends to get coffee at the Blue Walrus, and I knew from staying with them at the Ham Shack on Long Beach for Jones Beach as well as multiple other times, that they were good for the latenight jam. When I rolled up with gyro in hand, all my dreams came true. 8 or 9 people were still bopping around their camp and it was no wonder, because that chill spot they were hoping for turned out to have a DJ station right up the way. They handed me a beer and I pulled up a camp chair and just watched the world roll by (literally) as we all laughed our asses off. The camp chair felt so good.  The beer was strong and delicious.  The night was old and cool but warm enough to be sweet. Unfortunately for us, the DJ was playing awful, awful reggae (and I love reggae) and kept doing the 'turn it down so you can sing' bit that was just pushing us all over the edge. There may have been idle threats of violence. "Fucker played till 8am last night!" "Gonna cut that cord as soon as he stops!" "Why does this suck so much when it could be so good?!!" Hazer finally slipped off to bed. Atut and I decided that enough was enough and as the sun started to glow on the horizon we shuffled back to camp discussing the madness we'd just seen and heard.  It was hard to talk about that last Storage Shed set because it was so wild and different, we still needed time to process it.  Obviously, both of us thought it was absolutely fascinating, and hearing the negative reviews from fools along way made us laugh and shake our heads. The weird wook scene was epic in its menace and frivolity. So much anger over so many little things. So little appreciation for the gift they'd just been given in the form of art and music and energy. I couldn't understand what the hell they were doing so fired up so late at night in such a chill place, but I didn't have to because our camp awaited with a wife asleep and an airmattress all ready for bed. Saturday night was over.  Nothing but Sunday / Double Saturday awaited, and I couldn’t wait to sleep because after that I would wake up into another amazing day at Superball IX, where the X is for extra. Saturday night was over.  Nothing but Sunday / Double Saturday awaited, and I couldn’t wait to sleep because after that I would wake up into another amazing day at Superball IX, where the X is for extra.

• Lazlo,      I thought you had died in Mexico back in the mid-70's. I write under the pen name RAOUL DUKE so I am not ripping off Hunter S. I am paying homage to him BRAH!!!! Glad you are still alive.                                                                Roaul

• This was my First Phish show was in 10th grade and Living in Iowa. Was super phun even with the weather.

• As your attorney I advise you to develop your own style and quit ripping off the Good Doctor's.

• I think a lot of people are telling their best Phish "show" story.  I'd like to tell my best "non show" Phish story.  It's so incredible, it has to be told.  Hopefully it still qualifies. The year was 2001, the dark days of the first hiatus.  I was working in San Rafael for Industrial Light + Magic.  Kevin Shapiro was coming to San Francisco for a Phish record release party so I sent him an email and asked him if he wanted to grab lunch at Skywalker Ranch.   He did, so I scheduled a visit.  The day came and I invited two good friends of mine and Kevin brought a friend along.  We met in San Rafael and drove up to the Ranch.  We parked in a gravel lot amid beautiful redwoods and set out touring Skywalker Ranch.   We had lunch in the Main House, got a nice tour of the Skywalker Sound Studios, hit the store, saw all the precious relics one would hope to see up there.  We were all old school Phish fans so the conversation was nothing but grand as I remember.   A real nice hang. So, it's time to leave the Ranch.  We all walk back to the parking lot which as I said is really just a bunch of gravel in the midst of sprawling redwood trees.  Keep in mind, this is the middle of nowhere.   You might as well be on the moon of Endor.   We're standing by our cars saying goodbye and in the corner of my eye I notice something sparkle in the gravel at our feet.  I mean it's just sparkling there in the Marin sun.  I look twice.  Unmistakable.   I bend down and pick up... a tweezer. In the middle of nowhere lying in the gravel at our feet at Skywalker Ranch.  Tweezer.  My memory was that we were all fairly speechless.  We looked at each other, "got it", said goodbye, and that was that. To this day, that moment goes down as one of the greatest Phish moments (not at a show) I have ever experienced.  I still get chills.   Hope you enjoyed. -Cassidy

• My yarbels....

• 2009 was a very overdue year for the thousands of fans that had not seen their beloved Phish since the debacle at Coventry in 2004.  With the announcement of a 3 night return run at the legendary "mothership" the anticipation level was at an all time high to say the least.  I was not one of the fortunate ones to hit the lottery and my hopes were all but dashed.  A girl I was casually dating at the time (who lived a couple hours away in Seattle) had put in multiple requests for Hampton, and she was lucky enough to have an order filled.  She called me, overwhelmed with joy and excitement.  This was still almost six months away from the show dates and little did she know that I had taken a liking to a cute blonde living in Texas.  I knew right away that this situation had the potential to be bad and awkward to say the least.  At this point, alot of people would have likely "played the game" or done whatever it took to ensure they were going to be at those return shows.  I however took the high road and after a couple of weeks told this girl that I was not going to be able to attend those shows with her, while explaining the rest of the situation.  She was not happy to say the least, but I felt good about my choice siding with honesty and (what I thought at the time) love.  So Hampton was out, and living in the PacNW made the first leg of summer tour an impossible feat for me.  It was settled then...Red Rocks would be my triumphant re-introduction to the band I was so fond of.  The 4 nights in CO and the following weekend at the Gorge went off without a hitch and again life was good.  Not too long after, the announcement of a west coast festival over halloween had me giddy like a kid on Christmas morning.  This was going to be grand.  Fast Forward to mid October, I am in Dallas, TX at the state fairgrounds, and I have a horrible accident.  I decided to jump off the top of a 10-12 ft  fence to save myself miles of walking around said fence.  I however, was a bit intoxicated, and did not have the most successful landing.  As soon as I hit the ground I knew I had broken my foot, the pain was horrific, and two thoughts immediately entered my head.  One, I was not going to be able to snowboard the entire upcoming season....and two, I was not going be able to attend Festival 8 in two short weeks.  I was devestated and had been looking forward to all the wonderful things that come along with a Phish festival.  Once I went to the hospital the news was worse than I could have imagined.  I had shattered my heel, but surprisingly I did not need surgery.  The doctors gave me a timeline of recovery and I was less than thrilled, but the fact that I didn't need to go under the knife, kept a glimmer of hope alive for the festival.  I decided at the last minute to make the trek and upon arrival in Palm Springs, I made a call to one of the many senior citizen medical retail vendors.  I explained to them that I was in the area for a few days and needed to rent a raskal scooter to get around during this "convention/meeting" I was attending.  "No Problem" they said and within a few hours I had delivered to me a brand new out of the box scooter that would easily get me around the polo field grounds.  My friends took the liberty of adding some festival flair to the senior cruiser, covering it in stickers, pipe cleaners and the such.  Combined with an ADA wristband for the weekend, I was able to go anywhere I wanted with little to no hassle.  After going through security the first day I realized that I should milk this for all it was worth.  So on Halloween, all decked out in my space maphia gear, I pulled off the ultimate feat.  I have never met anyone else who has been able to pull this off at a Phish show.  On the floorboard of the scooter I placed a 30 pack of canned beer wrapped in a blanket.  Combined with the  basket on the front which had been transformed into a large ice chest, and the backpack of booze hanging from the back of the seat....I was a rolling speak easy inside the concert grounds.  I drove my scooter up to page side and parked it for the day.  I then put my neon green crutches and tent poles awkwardly up in the sky and immediately home base was established.  The following 10+ hours of the day were spent drinking, laughing, joking, smoking, and just having a ball.  By the time the music had concluded there was so many beer cans and stuff left around the scoter that it took 3 poeple to give it a push start.  Combined with the fact that I was on some painkillers (and a few other things) my girlfriend had to sit on my lap and drive the scooter back to camp while I was ghost riding the entire way.  Later on that night in the campgrounds, we located another similar scooter.  Deciding it would be a great idea, a single crutch was given to the driver of each scooter, as they headed towards each other from opposite directions.  Scooter jousting lasted for quite a while, at least until the batteries died.   Needless to say it was an incredible expierence, although it is one i would choose not to have to go through evahhhh again. 

• I have been seeing Phish shows since 1998. In that time I have seen them rip it up all over the country in different venues. Fast forward to "the final tour in '04." Me and three friends decided to hit as many shows as possible. We zig zaged the country VA, WI, IN, NY, MA, ect... The time came to hit the final two shows and by some miraculous chance me and my friends managed to land jobs as "safety" guys in Coventry. The night before we headed down to the Tweeter Center in Camden, NJ. The shows was amazing, we had a blast!! So, the next morning we got ready and started heading up to VT. We drove for a number of hours and right after we passed through Springfield, MA, what happens??? My car breaks down!!! We couldn't believe it, as stood outside the car on the highway, dejected and demoralized for all of ten minutes a miracle happened!! We watched as a white pick up truck with a trailer drove by and then stopped about a 1/4 mile past us. A guy jumpd from the truck and began to walk tword us, he said "hey guys, you heading to Coventry, My name is Jim from West Virginia." Without hesitation we all answered YES!!! He said well if you guys need a ride hop in!!! We couldn't believe it, a true Phish miracle. We grabbed our shit and got into the trailer and began our new journey! I called AAA before we left and said my car is on 91 North pick it up and take to the closest Audi dealership and we left without even waiting to see if they came for the car!! Little did we know it would get even better. As all of you know the traffic was terrible!! Lucky for us we were on the vendor list so we had directions in the back way!! We started calling Jim "Runaway Jim" for obvious reasons but not only did it work out for us but Jim was able to skip the traffic and come in the vendor entrance with us(Good Karma). But wait, it gets better!! You all know about the debacle with them telling people to turn around and leave and they would get a special suprise with their unused stub, well i was planning to sell my ticket as we got closer bc we didnt need them bc we were working. So not only did we get in for free but we also received the signed photo book from Trey and the boys bc after everything that happened we didnt even bother selling our tickets!! The weekend went great!! We had the time of our lives, except for the Jim's cult member friends that met him there. They stunk worse than any person i've ever smelled. Luckily "Runaway Jim" was nice enough to drive us all back to New Haven CT, but we did have to endure the stench of O'Ryan and the other cult members for the entire ride. I love Phish and they have brought so many great memories to my life but this story really stands out!! I love an unexpected Phish miracle and now i always make sure to pay it forward to a Phan in need. Jim ig you're reading this thank you and i'll never forget that great weekend!

• Brooklyn 04 - We show up to the lot many hours before the show to look for tickets. Pretty quickly a shady looking dude offers us ticketmaster tickets. I decline (had recently bought fake tix) but my buddy buys one. We part ways, but a little further down the boardwalk some other dude yells to us "hey - that guy's selling fake tickets!" We go back to the original guy and ask what the deal is. He admits to selling fake tickets but claims "you'll definitely get into the show, it always works." We're getting pretty pissed off as he says more annoying shit like "mommy and daddy can buy you a new ticket" etc. We eventually are forced to get in this guy's face and kind of back him against a wall. He tells us to chill, to turn around and check out the hidden camera's behind us - we're on MTV's hidden camera show Boiling Points. Talk about a mindfuck! So we'd "boiled over" - didn't win the money, or so it appeared when the show aired. Off camera the producers had us sign some waivers, and my buddy asked that they give us $100. Which they did.  Several fruitless hours of searching for tickets later, we bribed a security gaurd with MTV's $100 bill, and were front and center to see Jay-Z rap with Phish!

• "Please reward me for getting to meet Phish, being a dipshit and then destroying my life by dropping out of college. I deserve it... somehow. Trust me!" No.

• ^^^Not an original story for sure.  I got this email with it refering to WSP this last year

• ATL GA 2003 I sat indian style floating 3-4 feet off the ground going back and forth across the amphitheatre the entire show... .by far the best show I've been to

• My girlfriend (now fiancee) and I were driving to our second ever Phish show at Festival 8.  We live in Nebraska so it was about a 24 hour drive.  We decided to take an alternate route instead of driving I-80 straight through Denver because there was a blizzard in the Rockies the day we left.  We set off to Indio, driving through KS, OK, TX, and then NM.  Shortly after driving through Albuquerque, we encountered an unexpected and freak snow storm in the desert mountains near the NM/AZ border.  Interstate traffic stopped, it was 11pm at night, and visibility was like 10 ft.  The reason I know visibility was 10 ft is because that is about how far away a semi truck was from my car when I realized he was sliding out of control backwards down the hill.  My girlfriend and I both jumped out of my Honda Civic mere seconds before it was crushed like a pop can between his trailer and the semi truck behind us.  With my car totaled, I had to spend the night in Gallup, NM.  After arranging for multiple car rentals and spending an additional $2,000 to replace all the crap we lost in the accident, we somehow still made it to Indio in plenty of time for Festival 8.  Hopefully on Labor Day weekend, our drive will be a little more peaceful...

• My first Phish show was June 9th, 1995 at Red Rocks.  I was asked by a friend to go on a road trip to Colorado to see Phish and even though I was familiar with their music, I had no idea how profoundly their music would change my life.  The majesty of Red Rocks and the power of Phish combined to create an experience that was like nothing else I've ever felt before.  It took one song for me to realize I had to see this band again...and again...and again.  Which is exactly what I did.  I felt like everyone was in on the secret and I wanted in, too.  I was in my sophomore year of college and much to my parents shagrin, I dropped my classes that fall and took a train out west to hit shows in Missoula, Seattle, and Portland.  That sealed the deal. At that point, school seemed secondary to saving my money and planning out future road trips to see Phish.  I stayed in school another year and half while seeing as many shows as time and money would allow.  But by the end of my junior year I moved back home and during the summer of 1997 I had planned another road trip to Virginia Beach, Raleigh, and Atlanta to see my favorite band. Two weeks before we were scheduled to hit the road, my friend who brought me to my first show in Red Rock and who I had planned on riding with to the shows in the south had cancelled and I was stuck without a ride.  There was no way I wasn't going to make this trip.  Two of my other best friends who had planned on going to the same shows had just broken up but she was still planning on going.  I needed a ride so I arranged to go with her.  My buddy was upset thinking I had betrayed him by riding with his now ex-girlfriend but I explained this was all about Phish and riding with her was my only option. So off we went and had a fantastic time at the tour opener in Virginia Beach and another stellar show in Raleigh.  Because my original partners-in-crime didn't go, I had extra tickets to sell for each night.  We rolled into Atlanta and Amy (my buddy's ex) said she had a longtime friend living in the area and she was a music lover and might want to check out the show.  Amy called her friend and made arrangements to pick her up at the Steak & Shake on I-75 before heading down to Lakewood Amphitheater. When I first laid eyes on Leslie I saw a very pretty, yet shy southern belle.  We all had a great time at the show and ended up going back to her place to stay for a couple of nights before going north to head home.  The night after the show Leslie had a small party at her house and invited some friends (including the ex-boyfriend who was trying to get back together with her).  I talked with Leslie the whole evening and her boyfriend (we'll refer to him as douchebag) wasn't too pleased.  She took it upon herself to tell him they weren't together anymore and to leave her alone.  I enjoyed watching it all go down but didn't think anything more of it other than this girl is flirting with me and she's got a jealous boyfriend.  I knew I'd be going back home soon and probably wouldn't see or talk to this lady every again.  I really liked hanging out with her but being naive as I was, I didn't realize that she had bigger plans. When we finally got home my friend explained Leslie really liked me and wanted to talk some more.  That got me excited but a month went by and I didn't hear from her.  Finally, she called and we spoke for hours.  That continued on for the weeks and months ahead until she bought me plane tickets to see her and surprised me with tickets to Page/Plant at the same Lakewood Amphitheater where we first met. To make a long story short, one year after we met she made the bold decision to move to Minnesota to live with me.  Since that time we've gotten married, had two kids, and have seen 40+ Phish shows together.  We just returned from three nights of Phish at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago and our love for Phish and for each other is as strong as ever.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought as a 20 year old at Red Rocks in June 1995 that I would meet my future wife at a show and we'd still be seeing Phish together in 2011.  Life is good.

• So mine would have to be this summer at SBIX. As of the night before the first night of the festival, I couldn't go. I didn't have the money and I had to work that Friday night. Well that Thursday I was hanging with my mom and she asked what I was doing for the holiday weekend. I told her nothing, because all of my friends were at SBIX. She managed to talk me into driving to SBIX after I got out of work at 11:00pm, that Friday night. I lived about 3 hours away from the festival. So I got into my car and drove into the night alone to get to one of the best weekends of my life. When I got there, I had printed out the WRONG ticket. I printed out the receipt and not the actual ticket, so I had to leave the entrance area and try and figure this out. It was getting super late at this point. I had two of my friends still waiting for me to get into the camp grounds. I then remembered I had the ticket on my e-mail, after about 45 minutes of frantically trying to figure out how to get in. So I drove back to the entrance and showed them my ticket on my phone, and they scanned it and I got in. That was pretty insane. So I parked my car and had no clue where I was in relation to anything (it was about 2:00am). I called my friend who was happily waiting for me and he said he was camping in South Dakota with all of my friends. So, he gave me the best directions he could from where he thought I was. I put as much as I could in my pack, and, I walked for over and hour until I finally found him and my other friend right in the middle of South Dakota. I looked at his map once I found him, and I was parked in Hawaii, which was literally on the other side of the festival grounds. It was great to actually be at a Phish festival with a group of my friends that I grew up with. I seriously couldn't believe it. The next day I met up with my friends who I have made through going to shows. My closest friend I know via Phish had begged me to go, saying he would fund me and so on. But I refused. So when I went to the meet-up, I got to see a lot of really great friends that I met through this band. When I saw my friend who I go to all of my shows with, we gave each other a huge hug, and the hug was captured on camera. It was e mailed to me a couple weeks later, I had no clue it was taken, and I choked up a little because of the happiness that came back from seeing that picture. The whole weekend I was surrounded by the best group of people I could ask for. And made tons of new friends. I couldn't ask to be happier when I have my family, my friends, and Phish. Peace

•  +1 for a fellow Iowa phan!

• The Joker posted this story on his blog back in 2010 saying "I am unsure of the author of this nice piece of literature, but I thought it was worth a posting here. I found it on the panicfreaks.org message board" http://phishcoventry.blogspot.com/2010/05/widespread-panic-red-rocks-chocolate.html Hope this doesnt count...

• http://phishcoventry.blogspot.com/2010/05/widespread-panic-red-rocks-chocolate.html

• Not your story but good try man. I have seen this same story using Widespread Panic, Dead and any other mushrooom happy band.

• I am not sure if this is my greatest Phish Tale ever, but it my most recent encounter of Phish magic and definitely note worthy. Walking back in the massive movement of people to my campsite following the killer afternoon set at Superball this guy walking beside me kicks a lonely flip-flop my way. He asks me to toss it back to him....he and I start dribbling this lone flip-flop along the way as we walked back toward the camping areas. We get a few kicks in and start having fun with it. We get about 10 or so kicks along and he once again kicks the flip-flop to me, I go to kick it back and I can't because something is in the way...IT S THE MATCH TO THE FLIP FLOP!!! We could not believe that through all of those people and all that time walking along we had brought the pair of shoes back together!!! We both were shocked and elated!! Along with everyone around us that saw this all transpire started we cheered with delight!) this started and chain reaction and everyone erupted from all directions :) After that moment together, I ran into him a few time over the rest of the weekend. Last week at the Chi Boogie I ran into him again!! This time we exchanged information and formally introduced ourselves to each other. Ahhh the magic that only happens at Phish.

• A friend and I go to a raggae fest at Woodbury ski resort. Couldn't get any good herbs, so we had a half gal of capt. Morgan. Place is on a semi steep hill, I am toast...we meet some cuties and have some dancing fun...go to restroom, head back up hill...boom I'm done. Peeped come see if I'm ok, one gives a pb and j...that was good! All kinds of other shit happened during the day but the mistake was Phish showed up and I missed it all passed out like some assbag. Well I made up for that in the last 20 years.....

• Yeah. Another of the class of Y2K. Why did the band take a hiatus again?

• i hope u win, girl#1!!! will u take girl #2?

• I can remember my friend coming back to the west coast from phish tour in 90' We were puffing weed and he said,“dude they are like deadheads,with beamers!!!!! What a long strange trip its been

• Have fun at the show! Great story!

• ^^ that's what the sticker says, right?... I'm going for the Tea Party vote, if I win I'm giving the other ticket to The Joker.

• Phish Sucks! Jerry's Dead! Get a Job!

• Fall Tour 2010 Providence through Amherst on Sunday after the show in Providence on friday night i stayed with some friends and acquaintances in a nearby RI town (don't really know where). there were a bunch of us, maybe 15-20 and we were all staying in this kids basement. since everybody was still energized from the show we all were staying up drinking and doing other things (i don't partake in the heavier stuff). well, at this house is a small dog that has been wandering around the basement the entire night. i would see it dragging across the floor a few times but thought nothing of it. low and behold, i find out that this dog has the mange, and really once you got a good look at it, it was pretty clear. so around 5am everyone starts to wind down a pass out. the dog is still in the basement, and you could hear it scrambling around with the lights turned off. i end up sleeping in a pretty uncomfortable section on the floor and was legitimately scared of the mangy dog. so i decided to try and cover my face with my blanket while i slept in order to protect myself. well, wouldn't you know it, when i wake up in the morning the dog is just siting there right next to me. i never found out if the dog had actually rubbed up against me, but the mangy dog jokes were pretty prevalent for the remainder of the run of shows we were all doing. fast forward to sunday morning in Amherst and two of my friends that i had been traveling with all weekend suddenly decided they didn't want to stay around for the sunday show and were planning on returning to UNH. this would generally not be a problem except that out of the good nature of my heart, and the fact that i had a good summer job last year, i was the one that purchased the tickets for that weekend, with my friends saying they would pay me back. so not only was our ride now leaving, but so are two kids that would owe me money for tickets if they stayed. i tried and tried to get them to reconsider, but they were not budging on their decision to leave. so me and my other friend, who was staying, decided to return to UNH with them and pick up one of our cars and drive back to Amherst in time for the show. im not even sure that we got five minutes away from where we were staying in Amherst before my friends car breaks down. this was a common event for us, we all went to a concert the year before in Boston and my friends car broke down and we stayed in Cambridge until around 5am waiting for a ride. so, now my two friends have to stay for the show, because there was no way for them to leave at that point. however, now all of our transportation back was now gone. i didn't know how i was getting home until an hour before the show when a friend of a friend said he could give us a ride to Concord. the show was great, as was the entire 5 shows that week that i went to, and included a bustout of Ride Captain Ride that i was really hoping to hear that tour. so after the show we leave for Concord where another friend of ours from UNH had gone home that day and was waiting to give us a ride back to campus. we did not arrive to Concord until around 3 in the morning, he was very pissed, and did not get back to campus until around 5am. needless to say that when i finally got to bed around 530 i was exhausted. i went to my 10am class that monday and sat way in the back to avoid being called on because at this point i am a walking zombie. of course i was called on, and was so out of it that i don't even think i answered the question i just gave a blank stare to my professor. after an awkward few seconds of silence he asked my if i was ok, and i replied......"ohhh im fine, i just got back form a long weekend where i was sleeping on floors with mangy dogs and nearly getting stranded in another state." where he then asked where did i go and i said "phish tour." he just turned around and didnt speak to me again for like a week. though that weekend did not quite go as smoothly as planned, it still was one of the best weekend i had in college or ever as a matter of fact.

• 8-8-97 "page leads you into gamehenge, and trey leads you right out..."    some girl said this to me, and I had no clue what she meant.....  but after lizards..   I knew....

• Ahh, Phish!  It has been a long time, my friends.  Ever since my "buddy" helped himself to the tickets to the only night I could go when they played what were thought to be the last shows they would ever play at Red Rocks.  He didn't even stand in line with us!  But I digress. Late summer, 1995.  Phish was playing 2 nights (3?  I don't recall exactly, it's been awhile) on the Rocks.  I had tickets to both nights with a group of friends, one of which was a girlfriend  who I had been dating on and off for a few months.  We arrived at Red Rocks quite early in the day to take advantage of all that a Phish parking lot has to offer.  Drinking many beers, smoking many bowls, hacking many hacky sacks, it was a beautiful day with friends.  Eventually, we were offered shrooms, and me, my girl, and my aforementioned "buddy" decided to split a 1/4 oz.  We all gagged down the mushrooms and partook in other activities while we waited.  After a particular large hit off of a bowl, my buddy turns to me and yacks his mushrooms all over my shirt!  I'm not an angry person, especially at this point of the day, but it was too much for someone that was starting to trip, so me and my girl had to take a walk after doing our best to clean the chunks off of my shirt.  Red Rocks is a beautiful place:  Great views, beautiful colors in the rocks, and very green when the sun is getting into the "golden hour" before sunset.  The mushrooms were in full affect now, and my girlfriends eyes were matching the green of all the foliage around the ampitheater.  We laughed about the situation and stopped often on our hike to kiss and do all the things that young trippers like to do when in such a beautiful setting.  As we walked back toward our friends and past the Trading Post, my lady noticed that KBCO was setting up some kind of hospitality station, and it was just opening up.  Some employees of the station invited us in for bagels with cream cheese, drinks, and general mingling.  As we browsed the small area, a guy came up to us and offered us free Phish T-shirts!  Promo shirts from KBCO.  It was a sign from above.  I quickly ditched my puked on shirt and donned the new one.  After that, we headed into the show  and enjoyed our buzz while lightning struck in the distance over Denver and beyond.  It was a magical show with my first true love in life.  Sadly, these Phish shows were the last I would experience with her.  She got in a car with a driver who had been drinking a year later and was killed when their car went into Boulder Creek coming home from Nederland.  That girl introduced me to Phish and so many other great musicians (hello, Bela Fleck).  I still  have the shirt as a reminder of those shows, that night, and mostly of her. 

• Not the best story, but a more recent funny one for sure:  After the secret storage shed set at Phish's Superball IX, I was walking solo out of the concert grounds through Camp Arkansas (Lower Wookville) on my way to my friends in Camp North Dakota (Upper Wookton).  All I wanted to do was share what had just happened with my friends at our camp and couldn't wait to see them, so I started texting them.  I was soooooo amazed by the secret set, and still in complete and ultimate Phish bliss after what I had just seen and heard.  As I was texting my friends and making my way through the downhill dip at Camp Oklahoma (The Wook Nook), I didn't notice the big ditch by the road, and fell face first into it!!!  I popped up, made sure I was okay, then noticed a whole drum circle party of fans laughing hysterically at me at the other end of the ditch.  I pretty much felt like the woman in the security footage viral youtube video, who fell in the fountain in the mall while texting.  Oh well, I just brushed myself off, laughed, and slowly took bows as I walked past all the people partying with the drum circle in the ditch.  I will never forget it. :)

• As your attorney I would advise you to drop your lawsuit against Ernest.

• FYI: www.johndoeradio.com is giving away 2 seats at a private table this Friday.  E-mail johndoe@johndoeradio.com to enter.

• I've never seen Phish. I used to booze cruise around Iowa listening to them and would LOVE to finally see them live!

• I used to work for Phish. I helped run the information booth from Lemonwheel through Coventry  I would work overnights. I didn't have to spend a lot of time IN the booth, however. We had staffers do that. Since I was a limo driver in the real world, and I had exclusive access to a John Deere Gator, I spent my time riding around giving people rides. I had only two rules when it came to picking someone up. First, they had to ask. I wasn't offering rides to anyone. But, if they had the balls to ask, I would pull over. That leads to the second rule. They had to have a destination. No party rides. That was never a problem.  So, imagine you're stumbling around shakedown at 3am. Here comes a guy in a staff shirt, a lammy, and riding VERY slowly in a gator. What would be your first thought? Security, right? I heard whispers of "5-0" so many times it always made me laugh.  Then, you're the one bold enough to say "Hey man, give me a ride ". And to your surprise, I would pull over. "Where to?", I would ask. The reactions from here would vary just as there is from people riding in a limo. Some are just thankful to get off their feet for a time. Others found it the best thing since the last encore. "WOOOOO HOOOOOO!!!  LOOK AT ME!!!" has we moved away from the shakedown curb. For those who follow me on Twitter, or chat with those of us on PhishTwit during couch tour, I go by the name of secretcabdriver. I took that name because I would always begin the rides by explaining that they were in the "Secret Cab".At the end of the ride they would always ask, "how much do I owe you?", because this being a festival, everything came at a cost. I would tell them that I wasn't allowed to charge anything. BUT, tips were accepted. Most would fork over two dollars or so and be happy about it. Of course, there were those times that people would come to me and say "I'll give you ten dollars to take me and my friend to the other side of the campground". Those people got the same  deal at the end. It was up to them if they paid or notMost of the rides were just the random point A to point B. A couple were picking up gear at a friends' car and taking it to their camp site. One ride I remember in particular occurred at the IT festival. As you know, that took place at the closed Loring Air Force Base in northern Maine.in 2003. It was get away Monday. I had just dropped off a person at the exit of the campground located at the end of the three mile long runway. On my way back, about a mile from where I had just left, I came across these two guy carrying a large cooler between them. Their backs were piled high with backpacks. They flagged me down and begged me for a ride to their car. They didn't know how lucky they were that it was me who came along just then. They piled their gear in the back and off we went. They explained they were parked up by the exit, where I had just come from. When we approached their car, a flatbed truck had just begun to lower its bed behind the car. I pulled right up to the driver and said he didn't have to tow this car. He asked if my passengers was working here. I said "No, but they're here and there's no need to tow their car". The wasn't the streets of NYC or any other large city, so the guy agreed to take off. We got there literally in the nick of time. Had I not come along, the guy's car would have ended up at the opposite end of the runway,I like to think that I made a few people's lives just a little bit better while they were at their favorite band's festival. It was a chance for me to get to know a few fans on a first name basis.  The IT festival motto was "Our intent is all for your delight." In a small way, that was MY intent as well.

• I went to UNH from 87-91 and so was lucky to be at the right place and time to discover and fall in love with Phish. Spring of my senior year, they played at the Field House, and my friend and her housemates were hosting an afterparty out in Newmarket at the Toast House. To keep it simple, I was crashing there. So, after the show, we head back to the Toast House, and quickly a pretty good size crowd was gathering. My friend and I were toasting bagels in the kitchen and in walks Jon Fishman carrying an Electrolux. Turns out another kid staying at the house is his Boston-based repairman. After Jon passes the vac to repair guy, he comes back to the kitchen and proceeds to create a masterpiece of a perfectly toasted bagel and joins the party. At this point, Trey was in my now husband's bedroom with a taper listening to the show. He was not entirely pleased with the tape and did not hang for very long. Page never made an appearance. Mike, however, did join us at the kitchen table, enjoyed a bagel, blew bubbles, and shared some hilarious random thoughts. At the time it was definitely special to have the band show up at our party, but also casual enough in 91 that they could enjoy the scene and blend in pretty seamlessly. I mentioned my husband (whose room was off the kitchen and housed the good stereo). Well, this was the night we met. We're forever bound by Phish, Electrolux repairs, and bagels.

• Humping the American Dream on a Phuckin NASCAR racetrackby Eric Halbach-Merz on Thursday, August 18, 2011 at 11:26am Morning Yoga with Trey!Winston....           It is early here at my home outside Aspen, CO. Currently I am holed up at my sanctuary known as Owl Farm. As my eye wonders to the window from my kitchen I notice the peacocks frolicking about as an elk meanders through my front lawn. I have just turned 74 and my last great noteworthy experience is something with which I am struggling to document for posterity. The tumultuous events surrounding this escapade are swiftly morphing into disjointed and garbled half-truths and muddled memories. The MOJO wire has been bleeping with the mind-numbing rapidity of a Alan Jackson CD scratched on the floor with a mixture of volcanic pumice and human effluence. There might, to my utter dismay, be no way to curtail this horrible sound other than spitting vitriolic words at it.             While I have always tried to absorb as much live music as is humanly possible. Often times my visceral experience does not warrant any form of account or formal documentation. When last I wrote of the Phish (not) from Vermont I had just returned from the seedy and quite possibly hepatitis infested city of Atlantic City in the not so new state of New Jersey.           After my excursions to Manhattan and parts of the Southeastern area of the United States coinciding with the first portion of the Summer Tour......Who the Phuck has two separate Summer Tours?....I thought my time with the newbs, spunions, wooks, and internet geeks was over.             Fortunately this turned out not to be the case for this Doctor of Journalism and all around last vestige of freak power above ground. My editor had somehow conned my employer into allowing me to take what would become a most memorable road trip. I was headed to my summer home in Maine, but by divine providence my trip coincided with Phish's festival at Watkin's Glen, NY. Would I be reimbursed for my expenses? Was there a story at this racetrack? Other than being one of the only race tracks on which going left the entire time will only guarantee a driver a quick trip to the ER. It is also noteworthy for holding the LARGEST music festival EVER in US history.         I had purchased a ticket, and was prepared to take the ride. But what now? What was next? The last time music was performed here was in 1972 for The Band, The Grateful Dead, and the Allman Brothers. The crowd was over 600,000, making Woodstock look like a Pat Boone concert. Would four geeks that met up in Vermont be able to top that shit? I had heard about this Ginger Jedi guy, but mind tricks seemed to be insignificant even using the Force.         Honestly, my expectations were at bargain basement levels, as i was taught to expect the worst as to never be disappointed. Upon seeing the signs off of the interstate signalling Watkins Glen I braced myself for a total cluster phuck of humanity clogging every which vehicular artery converging on the festival site. To my utter astonishment and complete amazement no such Chinese Fire Drill was under way. While the venues lack of helpful directions guiding anyone to an appropriate entrance were completely absent, we some how managed to not only enter the gates, but set up our campsite in under 30 minutes!         My only complaint involved with entering the site, manifested itself in the form of several semi-wooks, apparently already spun out, looking for CHEAP tickets outside the entry point who possessed enough chemical substances to kill the entire San Diego Zoo.  I must also mention that my misanthropic tendencies were further fueled by witnessing  a jackass being handcuffed behind his car 20FT away from being awarded the Superball wristband, and with that, the key to never ending splendor!Camp Duke         Before I get ahead of myself I must pause to explain that this adventure was not undertaken alone. Many years ago I realized that I am not someone fit for mass consumption, especially under the conditions I was about to hurl myself into. Many people unaccustomed to Roaul Duke are frightened at the least and utterly horrified at best. I am a VERY crude man, without the conventional social graces nor respect for my fellow man; as I consider the average man beneath contempt.          So, I must congratulate myself for bringing with me someone that "KNOWS" me best. While she HATES being referred to as my personal tour massage therapist, she has not only been patient with me, but more importantly she puts up with my abhorrent behavior and general misogynistic tendencies. Her name is Lo and we met at IT before you N00Bs were out of diapers, and more to the point she gets IT.          The other WONDERFUL companion I have come to know and love that accompanied us is vastly more PHILLY than even the Dirtiest sort.  I have been known as one whom parties like a Rockstar, but this chick parties not like but as a RUCHSTAR! She actually is a Ruchstar, and though she has a mind boggling love affair with Why Spread Panic? I still associate with here in Phish circles.          My only trepidation on this trip was due to the three relatively unknown people traveling with us. The author was entirely unfamiliar with these companions and I was suffering from mild anxiety issues due to their relative newbieness. My apprehension was further inflamed by the fact that they had all attended the earlier Charlotte show, yet had not only not inquired about "the BOOK" which Trey repeatedly referred to, none had obviously obtained it, let alone read it. They were apparently aware that the author of the book was a man named Icculus, but were they capable of reading Icculus?          We wound up, although parked in New York, oddly enough in the state of North Dakota. Much to my chagrin this would be the last state in which I was entirely aware of being. Our home base was located on an access road within 10 minutes of the festival area and more importantly strategically next to CLEAN facilities.          The chaos that ensued following our disembarkation slightly vexed me as our new home's square footage resembled a loft apartment on the lower east side of Manhattan. Massive camping sheds and all manner of outdoor equipment were assembled and thrown about in no coherent fashion, and yet I persevered, knowing that my trips to Thailand and India had cleansed me with the  healing powers of winning kharmic strawberry goo.          My initial anxiety regarding our krewe was quickly assuaged over my efforts to erect a rather large and unwieldy tarpaulin. Nothing brings a group together faster then a mutually beneficial project, and this most definitely was a project, in large part due to the high winds blowing over the flatlands of North Dakota. Kudos to all of those involved!          I was determined to observe and not judge; which I have been instructed is bad form. But would THEY be able to do the same with ME? I immediately explained that any comments regarding shows i had previously attended prior to 1999 were in no way shape or form an attempt on my part to "brag" or otherwise create some primeval illusory hierarchy amongst the group. I merely as the OLDEST person in the krewe had experienced more things.....(such as 7 Phish shows with less than 1,000 people)...;) Period. I did;however, add that anyone with sound knowledge of music should not EVER discuss a certain band from Athens, GA around me, and not to create any confusion I took REM out of the picture.         Scott, Mr. Scruggs, and Breanne did not disappoint in any manner whatsoever!!!! While all were virtually what the digital/interwebs phans call 3.0, I found them to be not only knowledgeable about the history, shows, and music of the band, but more importantly considerate and truly interested in learning as much as possible from every and anyone whose time with the band surpassed their own.         With the elixir of the gods in hand I decided to familiarize myself and Lo with our new surroundings. For phuck sake!, I had never been to North Dakota.The Breakfast of a Superballing Tri-Winning man with a vest;)         On our way to view the concert field I received a phone call from an old school PHRIEND named Slizza. As he was explaining to me that mutual phriends Kari and Rich were camped near a wooden outhouse located near the venue entrance it became disturbingly obvious that at that moment I was standing directly in front of the structure he was describing.  I was immediately reminded that long ago I had  forsaken the wild debt ride provided by Visa, and realized that ONLY KARMA was everywhere I was going to be.          Kari and Rich are Pholks I had known for a while, and was eager to see them again. Kudos for Mrs. Selfridge for completely disregarding the parking attendants and the sheepish mentality controlling the movements of the masses in order to secure the Dankest/crunchiest spot of them all!!!         After attending the Lemonwheel and IT at the Loring Air Force base in Limestone, ME I had some idea of what to expect of a Phish festival. My arrogant (yes laugh) notions were immediately shattered into microscopic dust upon stepping through the security gate. The lax physical examination at the point of entry harkened back to the pre-9/11 days of non-intrusive liberty and freedom our founding fathers envisioned while penning the 4th and 6th amendments to our Constitution.            BALLS everywhere is the easiest and least imaginative form of illustrating the visual aspect of what we now encountered. The concert field and its environs were not only laid out in a cogent and beautiful display, but Lars (the festival coordinator for all Phish fests)  had outdone himself in every possible conceivable manner. The overall layout of what I was witnessing far surpassed any previous large event the band had ever produced.             It was June 30th and the music was yet to come....                                                                      07-01-11            Something disturbing and completely unforeseen transpired during the wee hours of July 1st whilst the members of the "push on through krewe" were observing the biggest ball of them all; an enormous sphere of highly combustible gas cresting the ridge line of the  neighboring mountain range. With utter disregard to the "NO UNAUTHORIZED VENDING" signs posted everywhere in our small section of North Dakota, more than likely overlooked due to the illiterate nature of our schwilliy new companions.          We awoke from our albeit brief and intermittent slumber to a full on WOOK HIGH COUNCIL Board of Directors meeting!!!! Remnants of the 1995 Grateful Dead tour had decided to establish the "Schwag Shakedown Street" a half block down from "Camp Duke" and while we sipped the most phenomenal Bloody Mary's created by Ruch, the Wook Board meeting began. Crappy burritos, thin glass, warm Busch Light, and contempt for all those within earshot reigned down.           It must be stated for the record that our krewe attempted  recon and  given the opportunity we were directed to disrupt the gathering of the Wooks. Unfortunately, after countless groans, gesticulations, and increasing levels of taunting THEY dispatched a worker Wook to counter or surveillance.           Once spotted we hunkered down in our compound and began drinking more heavily in order to wrap our fragile minds around this new hideous and shocking development. These "crunchier then thou"long hairs had entrenched themselves in our part of North Dakota.             We meticulously documented the command structure , noting that the length of the dreads was a significant factor determining the hierarchy. The more we monitored this sub-species of human the more we learned. Our research will hopefully provide anthropologists with information invaluable in the process of categorizing and cataloging the WOOK. Beads, body stench, lack of basic hygienic principles, lice, and drug to weight ratios; as well as, the levels of sheer disregard for those around them  were all apparently important factors in the establishment of the Executive branch of the Wook society.             The "boys" had made it to New York as did we and music WAS in our future. The Wook High Council would not in any way dampen our spirits. After numerous jaeger bombs, peach daiquiris, and icy cold American beers we ventured out....              The show got under way with what an ESQUIRE phriend of mine from Atlanta would have been devastated missing. Honestly pholks I am in negotiations with attorneys from Samoa organizing a Possum class action law suit against Mrs. Gordon, McConnell, Fishman, and Anastasio and if all works out every phan should be getting checks in the mail compensating them for lost work and psychological trauma. Better to have it open Superball IX and get it over with.             I had missed Peaches en Regalia at Walnut Creek due to a minor tour injury known as "show toe" and was overjoyed it followed the ditty about a dead marsupial. I had had the pleasure of doing 3/4 ths of the 1993 Holiday Tour and so had caught the 3 Peaches in a row following Zappa's death. A very welcome addition to the first set.             Before leaving for the Superball I was blaring a particular David Bowie song while we iced down beer and got gas dancing in the parking lot. To my amazement the band began playing that exact song Life on Mars! Once again that karma thing seemed to be circling back around.              After 2010 Alpharetta, My Friend My Friend has taken on an entirely new meaning for me and others but will and has always put a smile on my face. Quinn ended the set and reminded me of a couple somewhere in the sea of phans with a new child of the same name.              While I was still WINNING, I wound up "Still Waiting" during the second set. I was tortured in the Sand but Wedged myself next to Mike, which was pretty Simple and Didn't Matter until I had to sit down due to a large Silent Horse that obstructed my view. After finding my Groove again, I became overJoyed but realized it was all over when Malkehu Zeroed in on us.              The trek from south central New York to North Dakota, even with a stop in Arkansas seemed to take little effort on my part as I had long ago allowed the effects of outside chemicals or substances to slow me down. I did become worried about my Arkansas phriends would be able to find their way home without proper lighting, and immediately went back to Camp Duke to attempt locating a remedy.               Somehow, our own encampment was already lit up; partly due to the solar powered lights I had forgotten about during my stroll. I cannot EVER over exaggerate the pragmatic benefits of tiki torches in an environment such as ours, and due to the rocky terrain we encountered I was only capable of placing 4 of the 6 I had brought with me. I applaud whomever in the krewe not only located the torches but had the foresight to light them preceding my arrival as I may have passed Camp Duke and entered the "Shady Shakedown".              Not wanting my other tiki torches to go to waste I made post-haste in my phinest after show attire with said torches slung over my shoulder and somehow not forgetting the citronella oil back to Bill Clinton's former stomping grounds. Rich and Kari needed help locating their home and I was in the right mindset and in possession of the proper materials to aid them with insect repelling illumination.              Upon cresting the ridge to the closest, and most spectacular area around I spotted a man with whom I have had the most sincere pleasure of yachting with outside of the confines of my sailing home in Maine. Not once, but twice this particular boat captain had steered not only me but countless other krewe members to victories in races which only had bliss and joy competing against one another. Under his phenomenal tactical instincts we all became Winners! When one speaks of Captain Nesbit, one must use the utmost respect and courtesy his positions demands! My experiences racing sailboats from Bermuda to Nantucket have put me in contact with some of the most surly and negative helmsman ever, but having krewed with Captain Jeff, the world of yachting has become an even more pleasurable, enjoyable experience than I could have ever imagined. As far as skippers go, I have never been on board with a more positive and generous man as he in all my wanderings.   l    MORE TO COME....;)      

TotalComments: 100