For my final Rush show on the Snakes & Arrows tour, I went with my brother and his girlfriend Helen. They picked me up around 2:00, and we drove straight to the amphitheater (only stopping off at Wendy's and a rest stop). As usual, Erik and I talked (Helen wanted to sleep in the back).
When we got to Clark County, three or so hours later, I stepped out into surprisingly cold air. I'd worn shorts, and I was trying to decide whether to put on my sweats. Instead, I just put on a North Face jacket, and then we walked to the venue.
Even though we had an hour or so before the show started, I ended up passing the time quickly by talking to friends. Monica told me that Ray had talked to Howard, Rush's lighting director, about the Gorge show the night before. Howard said that it had been a very difficult concert for the crew, and that he'd lost a bunch of lights and lasers due to the wind. He said that instead of going to the after-show party with the crew, he ended up going right to bed. He was looking forward to playing the show at Clark County.
Set 1
When the show started, Geddy came out wearing a long coat. He also had a scarf wrapped around his neck. Seeing this made me feel even colder than I already was. The band sounded great, and at close range they looked like they were having fun.
Almost right away, Alex acknowledged a group of guys standing in front of me, many of whom were wearing golf gear. (I'm guessing that he'd gone golfing with them during the day -- or at least seen them on the course.)
I spent some time pointing things out to Helen, as this was her first Rush concert. She seemed genuinely amazed at all the stuff going on, and recognized a bunch of the songs
As with every show at Clark County, the shortest man in the venue ended up standing behind Erik, who stands at 6 feet 7. The problem was, he really couldn't stand behind Helen or me, as we both stand at or over 6 feet. Somehow, he ended up moving down his row where he could see better. In general, people seemed to be moving around quite a bit.
During the intermission, I walked up to the restroom with my friend Keith, and we talked about what we'd been doing since we'd last seen each other. As we were standing in the mile-long line at the restroom, we saw a bunch of security people and finally Sheriff's deputies run into the bathroom. I never did see them pull someone out, but it sure looked exciting.
Monica told me that Steve had been shut down from taking pictures by Michael Mossbach, Rush's security director. He found it odd that he was the only one Michael targeted, as everyone around them was either taking pictures or video (or holding signs that blocked the view).
Set 2
During the second set, I wasn't getting any warmer. In fact, I think the temperature dropped into the low 50s (F). Geddy continued to wear the long coat and the scarf across his neck.
I noticed a lot of activity off the stage, with Rush security people scanning the audience. They seemed to be pointing right at me, although I wasn't taking any pictures or doing anything other than air drumming (when appropriate, of course). Sure enough, Michael inched by me and then waited behind a guy who was taking pictures. Then he tapped him on the shoulder, and, from what I could tell, erased every picture the guy had taken. What was odd was this guy was with the golf guys that Alex had acknowledged, and was wearing a backstage pass on his shirt.
When the band played Witch Hunt, I saw Geddy warming his hands on the fire, which I thought was funny. But I have to admit the heat felt pretty good. As the band got closer to the end of the show, some other interesting things happened.
During One Little Victory, Neil seemed to miss the hi-hat downbeat he plays along with the double-bass. He ended up switching the beat around until he found the downbeat. What was strange was at the end of the song, he did the same thing. It almost sounded like he was bored and trying to find a new way to play the beat.
During YYZ, Alex made some big boo-boos. During the chorus, he started on a wrong note. He looked back at Neil, who was laughing at him. He kept making self-deprecating gestures to the audience -- like holding his nose as if to acknowledge his poor playing.
Making Memories
This show marks the end of my Snakes & Arrows tour. The band is going on to play many more shows, but between the 2007 and 2008 tours I've seen Rush nine times -- including my first ever Toronto shows and Ottawa. I remember when I used to see these guys once every two years.
People always ask me why I attend so many shows, and I guess the simplest answer is that Rush's music makes me happy. It reminds me of why I picked up the drum sticks. It inspires me. It gives me an excuse to travel to places I've never been, and see friends I haven't seen in a while. There aren't too many things that can do that for me.
So, for those who want to know, here were my favorite shows on the tour:
I wasn't originally going to take Cameron to the Gorge show, but then I ended up buying some box seat tickets that someone advertised at work. This would allow Cameron to be able to see over the crowd, as the box seats were elevated behind the floor seats.
On the day of the concert, Cameron and I met Monica and Ray (who had flown in from New York) at Monica's house. A light rain was falling, so I brought my rain jacket. We piled in Monica's car and drove off to Eastern Washington.
Ray had never been to the eastern side of the state. We drove over Snoqualmie Pass on I-90 through a dramatic mountain landscape. Seeing that familiar road through Ray's eyes made me appreciate it more than usual.
Descending from the mountains, we passed from the sea of green trees into the pale desert of Eastern Washington -- finally turning off at Ellensburg. This city, home to Central Washington University, was usually a place where I stopped off for food, gas, or a bathroom break, but this time Monica wanted to drive the back roads to Ginkgo Petrified Forest. In all my trips from Seattle to the Tri-Cities (where I grew up), I'd never traveled this back road of rolling hills, sagebrush, volcanic rocks, and wind farms.
Ginkgo Petrified Forest
I had stopped at Ginkgo Petrified Forest only one other time, when I was a kid. From what I found out at the interpretive center, it was formed about 15 million years ago when ancient forests were covered with volcanic ash, which gradually replaced the tree trunks with minerals in the groundwater. The petrified trunks were protected by basalt, until the Missoula floods eroded the basalt at the end of the last ice age. These petrified trees weren't discovered until 1927, and when they were done excavating them in 1938 they had discovered 50 species of trees on the site -- including (you guessed it) a ginkgo tree.
We watched a movie about the discovery of these petrified trees, and enjoyed the stunning view of the Columbia River from the visitor's center.
Welcome to the Gorge
After Ginkgo, we drove on the last leg of our journey to the Gorge, near George, Washington. Now, I'll be the first to say that the Gorge is not my favorite place to watch a concert. Except for the backdrop of the Columbia River Gorge, it's out in the middle of nowhere, and the facilities (parking, bathrooms) are sub-par. But the other thing I'd forgotten about -- until we pulled up around 6:00 p.m. -- was that Eastern Washington wind. This is the kind of wind that can blow you over, as my son tried to illustrate several times. It's also the kind of wind that can blow speaker cabinets and lights all over the place.
Cameron and I found our box seats, and we talked with the other people sitting there (a father and his daughter). We soon found out that we had some special VIP amenities that came with our box seats, like a private restaurant called the Cliffhouse that had (gasp!) real bathrooms! We also had our own waiters. I ordered a $15 dinner (sandwich, chips, drink). Cameron didn't want a sandwich -- he wanted popcorn and a pretzel, which we got from the good old concession stand.
Then we waited for the show to start, while the wind continued to howl.
Set 1: Swinging speaker cabinets
The band started pretty close to their 8:00 p.m. start time, and from the first note you could tell that this would be a very different Rush show.
Those swinging speaker cabinets caused the sound to fade in and out and lose clarity and power (at least from our seats). When they turned on the fog machine, the fog dissipated across the stage in a thin, violent stream -- losing any kind of effect that the band had intended.
Yet, the band soldiered on. Alex continued to look up nervously at the speaker cabinets and lights through the entire show, while Geddy and Neil seemed energized by the elements. When Geddy first talked to the audience, he said something about possibly "being blown off the stage."
I watched the lighting operators riding the rigs like bullriders, and saw the lights and other equipment crashing together high above the band. Whenever the camera showed Neil from above, the image moved back and forth like he was being filmed by drunk cameramen. The lights that usually come down to the stage in "Between the Wheels" and "Limelight," didn't really move on this night.
Set 2
By the time the second set started, the wind kept howling. Cameron, who had been dreading the explosion in "Far Cry," was a little disappointed when there were no sparks to go along with the explosion. God knows what would have happened if those sparklers had gone off with the wind.
When Geddy introduced "The Way the Wind Blows," he said it was apropos given how hard the wind was blowing on this particular night.
When it came time for Neil's solo, I have to say it was one of the finest I've seen him play on this tour -- or ever. I don't know if he was inspired or what, but he played some amazing beats in the improvised section on the high tom-toms. He also seemed to add some new fills in his "Drum Also Waltzes" African section.
As for the crowd at this show, they were enthusiastic. But there were a few problems. First, there were the guys in last row on the floor standing on their chairs (and security only telling them once to get down). Then there was the father and his son in the box seats directly below us, standing and rocking out.
Finally, there was the asshole who threw a glow stick from the grass area from about 200 feet above us. It happened during "Spindrift," when I was looking through my binoculars. I saw a green flash out of the corner of my left eye. When I looked up at the light, I knew it was a glow stick -- and it was moving at Mach 2! I moved my head slightly and the stick just missed me. Cameron nudged me and said, "Did you know that glow stick almost hit you? It almost hit me, too!" I started thinking about what I would have done had that glow stick hit Cameron or me. I think one of us would have been hurt pretty bad, as it had been thrown from at least 200 feet above us. Now I had another reason to hate the Gorge.
In the end, it was quite a concert. Despite the sound problems caused by the wind, I thought the band played exceptionally well -- and there was that drum solo.
On the way back to Seattle, first Cameron conked out, and then Ray. And then it was up to me to keep Monica awake as we drove through the mountains and finally into the Seattle area.
This was my second show on the 2008 leg of the Snakes & Arrows tour. The first was in Phoenix, AZ, at the outdoor Cricket Pavilion. This time, it was at the indoor GM Place in Vancouver, British Columbia, with my wife and eight-year-old son, Cameron. We drove to Vancouver from Seattle, which is about a 3-1/2 hour drive. Unfortunately, it took much longer, due to traffic leading into the George Massey tunnel as well as the construction on Cambie street.
Vancouver culture
After we parked, we walked to GM Place to pick up my tickets from Will Call (yes, I lost them so I had to get replacements). Then we walked around the venue so I could show Cameron Neil's bus. Cameron felt a little nervous, as if Neil was going to pop out and tell us to leave.
After that, we went to dinner at a mall on Abbot street. The only thing that looked good was Chinese food. Cameron was more interested in going up the gigantic escalators. He dragged his mom up, and then he wanted me to go. I have to admit that with a chronic fear of heights, these escalators made my hands sweat. Of course, Cameron thought that was hilarious.
A different view
The main reason for going to this particular show was so Cameron could sit on the side and see the band (he was upset at White River last year when his view was blocked by people standing in front of him). The seats, twenty or so rows up in section 119, were OK -- but with the new binoculars I purchased on the way up to the show (in Bellingham), I could see a lot of stuff that you don't usually see when you're in front of the band. For instance:
Lorne, Neil's drum tech, sits on a drum throne and watches Neil the entire show -- waiting for a problem to happen.
Neil goes through a pair of sticks about every 2-3 songs. After each song, he checks the stick for problems. When he's done with a stick, he throws it to Lorne, who places them in a drawer. Neil grabs a new pair of sticks right before Malignant Narcissism and the drum solo.
Neil often rests his left foot on his double bass pedal -- even when he's not playing it.
The TelePrompTer that Geddy uses for the lyrics scrolls a few lines at a time and then stops. At the end of the lyrics is the next song title.
On the last song, all the techs start packing everything up.
One of the computers used for mixing (on Alex's side of the stage) is a Windows Vista box. Tony Geranios, Geddy's keyboard tech, has a Mac. The slideshow that plays when he's not using it has personal pictures of the band and other places.
What's that smell?
During this show, the band played at the high level I've seen for most of this tour -- with very few, if any, mistakes. Geddy and Neil seemed particularly fired up. The arena was at about three-quarters capacity. Unfortunately, the place where we sat is where many of the party concert-goers like to sit.
First, I had to explain to Cameron about the pungent smell wafting by us about every 10 minutes. (Later, when I told people in Seattle about the abundance of pot smoking, most said, "What did you expect, you were in Vancouver." I guess I wasn't aware Vancouver was the pot smoking capital of North America.)
A few songs from the end of the first set, an Amazonian woman and her date sat to my right. The guy decided he was going to talk to the woman instead of watch the concert. Usually, this wouldn't matter too much -- but he ended up being louder than the music at times. Then, the woman leaned over and asked who the bass player was. If I'd told her it was Paul McCartney, she probably would have believed me.
A group of teenagers sat in front of us, drinking from whiskey bottles, smoking pot, but not bothering anyone else for the most part. They disappeared after the first set, which leads me to my next topic...
A lapse of security
Security seemed adequate for the first half of the show, stopping fights, nabbing some of those pot smokers or picture takers, and moving people out of the tunnel entrance just to our left. But something happened during the second set. I guess security decided to take a break, because the floor became a much more crowded place. My friends Monica and Steve, standing in the fifth row, said that security did nothing about people who snuck onto the floor in the second set.
During intermission, I waited in the longest food line of all time. By the time I got up to the counter, they had run out of pretzels (and Cam wanted one). I ordered a couple churros instead and got into the arena to hear half of "Far Cry." I decided to wait until after the pyro explosions to walk to my seat.
Setting records on the run
When the show was over, we got out to our car in record time and tore out of the parking lot. We were out of the GM Place neighborhood and driving up Cambie street 10 minutes after the show was over. Cambie street, currently in the middle of being torn apart for a train project, was much easier to navigate at midnight than at 6:00 p.m.
When we got to the U.S. Border, I told the border guard, "We went to the Rush concert." His response: "How was it?" Sometimes these border patrol types can be a little serious (even before 9/11). But two adults and a kid in the back probably don't fit their profile for people bringing contraband across the border.
After Brenda and Cameron fell asleep, I settled into a relaxing drive through northwestern Washington. After we picked up Drew from my brother's house, we got in the door at around 2:15. And I had to get up for work the next day. As I was falling asleep, I was thinking about the lyrics from Dreamline, "We're only at home when we're on the run..."
Here I was again, in the ACC, sitting with Monica about 15 rows up -- only this time on Geddy's side. The concert hall was filling up fast, and there was a noticeable charge in the air.
Geddy's daughter was once again walking around backstage with all her friends. The last section for the audience on Geddy's side seemed to be reserved for Kyla's schoolmates, as we saw lots of kids and their parents. Behind me, I could hear people talking about what it was like to have Geddy Lee as a parent at your kid's school ("He's just the nicest man," I heard.)
And then the lights went out, the band took to the stage, and they performed the most intense, passionate show I'd seen on the Snakes tour so far (show number five for those who are counting) -- and probably one of the best Rush shows ever for me.
A few notes:
When the chefs came out to baste the chickens, there was an entire group right in the front who put on chef hats. The last chef to come out was, we think, the producer of Snakes & Arrows, Nick Raskulinecz.
It seemed like it was "guys night out" all around Monica and me. Groups of guys were high-fiving each other every time Rush played one of their big hits.
Marijuana smoke seemed more noticeable -- especially during Bangkok. I guess if you're gonna do it, that's the song.
The band seemed genuinely pumped up and appreciative of the reception in their home town.
During intermission, while I was waiting around in the foyer, I talked to a couple. They happened to be from Seattle, which we all found incredible.
Rush played Distant Early Warning even though they'd played it the night before in Ottawa. They did this so the audience could see a different show than the first show in Toronto (yes, many Rush fans go to multiple shows).
Lorne Wheaton pulls a "fire blanket" over himself during the pyro in One Little Victory. I'd never noticed that before.
Subdivisions once again got one of the biggest ovations from the crowd.
And then it was over.
Here are a few pictures from the last show from my decent digital camera.
Thanks to my good friend Monica for planning this trip and giving me the nudge to go. Here we are enjoying the intermission at the last show:
Also thanks to Ray for all his hospitality in Buffalo, and great conversation in the car. Here's Ray during one of our gas stops somewhere on our trip from Buffalo to Ottawa:
This morning, while Ray slept in, Monica and I got up and ate a continental breakfast at the Country Inn Suites. Practically everyone in the room had been at the Rush show the night before, including a family with two young girls, whom I'd seen at the show. I thought about how much easier it was to attend a show without your kids.
Snorefest 2007
When we went back upstairs, Ray was already up. Now, it must be said that before we went on this trip Monica told me that Ray was the best snorer she or her husband Steve had ever heard (enough to drive Steve to sleep in the bathtub on one trip). So, I knew I had some serious competition. But then Ray told me, "Andy, you had a gold medal performance last night." I'm not sure if that's an award that I want, but it's always nice to be recognized by one of the best ;-).
Highway 7 to Toronto
We left the hotel a little later and stopped by Tim Horton's again (for Ray), and then we drove out of town. I knew I'd only seen one small part of Ottawa and hoped to return one day to walk around the actual city.
The drive between Ottawa on Toronto on the two-lane Highway 7 was beautiful, with the Fall colors starting to ignite across the countryside. Here are some pictures of what it looked like:
Toronto traffic jam
When we got outside Toronto area, we found out that the road we wanted to take, Don Valley Parkway, was closed. My GPS couldn't seem to figure out any other way to go, so we stopped and asked for directions.
Once we started driving again, we found that we (and the rest of all Toronto drivers) were stuck in a mess of a traffic jam, trying to get into downtown. Ray asked several drivers out the window if there was any other way to get into downtown, and they all said there wasn't. Most of the time we were driving on Danforth street and even passed the famous "Danforth and Pape" crossroad (the name of a section in the Rush instrumental La Villa Strangiato).
Earlier in the week I'd talked to Ed Stenger, who runs the amazing Rushisaband.com website, about meeting in person. Given that we both run Rush-related websites, we end up periodically talking in e-mail, and I thought it would be fun to meet. But the traffic ended up ruining our initial plans of me getting dropped off at the hotel. I called Ed and told him to meet us at The Spaghetti Factory, which he thought sounded great.
Spaghetti Factory - take two
Ray had called in reservations for a semi-large party of people. It was a good thing, because unlike the night of the first show, the place was packed. After we got our seats, I walked out into the lobby area and found Ed. I actually recognized him from the picture on his website.
Dinner was great again. Monica's friend Heidi joined us, too, whom I'd met at several other Rush shows on the west coast. Ed and I talked "webmaster" shop, and also talked about other shows on the tour -- namely the show he'd seen in Cleveland, which Heidi also attended.
In Toronto, Ed was attending RushCon, and he told us about some of the things he'd learned there. He'd met Sam Dunn, who was filming a documentary about Rush. Dunn's earlier documentary was Metal: A Headbanger's Journey, which I haven't seen yet.
After dinner we walked to the Air Canada Center. Here's a picture of Ed and me standing in front:
Today, Ray joined Monica and me for our final leg of our journey: Rush shows in Ottawa and Toronto.
As we drove from Buffalo to Syracuse, I sat in the back trying to fix my Palm 700w Smartphone. The day before I had overloaded it by asking it to do too much (GPS, mail, Internet, switching between cell networks in the US and Canada). After talking to Verizon tech support, they told me I probably needed to do a hard reset, which would basically erase all my settings and data. I did the hard reset and got my phone up and running again.
Ottawa, Ontario
By early evening, we arrived in Ottawa at our hotel, the Country Inn Suites. This hotel was definitely a step up from the Day's Inn in Tanawanda and Toronto. It was also popular with Rush fans, as just about everyone walking around wore a Rush shirt or was talking about the show. One guy in the elevator had a "This is my 50th Rush Show" shirt.
After a brief break in the hotel room, we headed out for dinner at a Wendy's and Tim Horton's combo restaurant. I opted for a sandwich at Tim Horton's, as I'd already had a hamburger at McDonald's earlier. After that, it was back to the motel to park our car.
Walking to the show
Instead of driving to the venue, the hotel recommended that we walk, as it was only about a mile away. They said it would be better because it would take us less time to walk back after the show. I was all for getting a little exercise after sitting in the car all day.
At the entrance of Scotiabank Place, we met Monica and Ray's friend B-man. Many Rush fans will know B-man as Bill Banasiewicz, the author of Visions, the first official biography of Rush. (I had met him once before on the Vapor Trails tour at the Scranton, PA, show.) We spent time talking about the first Toronto show. B-man told us about sightseeing around Ottawa, as well as what it was like to take his mom to the Toronto show earlier that week to celebrate show number 300 (she liked it, but he didn't think she'd be going again any time soon). We also talked about the rumors of Rush adding shows in 2008. B-man told Ray that he "needed to talk to Howard Ungerleider" to get the scoop. Ray agreed.
The show
Once inside, Monica and I found that we had amazing seats. Not only were they in the first 12 rows on the floor, but we were right behind a wheelchair row -- with an aisle in front of that row. Ray's seats were a little farther back.
Once the band started, Monica and I kept commenting to each other about how great these seats were. The band played Limelight beautifully, and in The Digital Man near the end, Alex played to a guy standing on the side who looked (I swear) like Santa Claus. It was hilarious to see "Santa" rocking out with Alex.
Throughout the rest of the first set, it became apparent that all the members of Rush were either tired, unfocused, or on autopilot. Geddy called the album "Snakes & Ladders," and before the song Mission he said, "This is Hold Your Fire." The major musical mistake came from Neil in Dreamline, when he went into the first chorus early (the big snare fill). When Geddy called the album by the wrong name, he quickly joked, "Jeez, I'm getting so old I can't even remember the name of the album!"
Intermission
Ray, B-man, Monica, and I went up to the concession stand, ate popcorn, drank water, and talked about the show. To fans like Ray and Bill, who saw many more shows than the average person, the set we had just seen was a disaster.
Monica and I listened to their complaints, but didn't add much to them. As I'll always say, I'm just happy that Rush is still out touring and sounding great. There are going to be nights when they don't sound quite as good, as that's just the nature of performing. Still, a "bad" night for Rush is still at a higher level than most bands.
Set 2
When the band came back out, they played with a vengeance, ripping through the Snakes & Arrows songs with the usual passion. One thing that Monica and I noticed: During the beginning of The Larger Bowl when Geddy is singing alone, Neil was actively scanning the audience. Neil even wrote on his blog about how much enjoys each audience -- their signs, their faces, etc. -- and this seemed like one of the few times he can just look around at everyone without playing.
By the time Rush got to Subdivisions, the audience had turned up the intensity one or two levels. During The Spirit of Radio, I turned around and watched all those thousands of hands clapping in unison during the chorus -- always an incredible sight.
One problem of being in our primo seats was that the seat moochers tried to stand with us and also break through security standing in front of the first 10 rows. Security did a good job for the most part, except one guy was able to talk his way through at the end of the show. I watched one woman yell into the security guard's ear, backed up, and then gave him a flirtatious look. I can only imagine what she had said, but by the guard's reaction I assumed it was sexual.
In our section, people would just come up and stand behind me, and then I'd back up into them, and they'd look at me like, "Hey, what's the problem, man?" We got them booted as quickly as possible. But this kind of distraction can be a real drag after the tenth or fifteen time.
By the end of the show, Rush had redeemed itself and come up to the level I'd seen at the other three shows. On the way out of the venue, we stopped at the soundboard area. As Ray waited to talk to Howard Ungerleider, as he'd promised B-man, the security guards kept trying to get us to leave. Ray stood his ground. Finally, Ray asked Howard, "What's the story with 2008?"
Howard looked at him and said, "Oh, we're going out for sixmonths in 2008."
We had our confirmation that the band was indeed going back out on tour in 2008. We discussed this news and other aspects of the show on the walk back to the motel. The traffic jam on Palladium Drive was awful, and we were glad not to be stuck in it.
I woke up late again, but was excited to go out for a "sit-down" breakfast at Golden Griddle, just across the street from our hotel. Monica and I both got the buffet, because we wanted a little of everything.
Toronto subway and street vendors
After breakfast, we went on the Toronto subway for the first time. We got off at the Union stop, and then walked toward the CN tower. This part of Toronto is home to skyscrapers, hotels, banks, and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation headquarters. It was also home to traveling restaurants (vans serving food), from ice cream to hotdogs to "chunky fries."
An artist was just setting up his display on the sidewalk, when I stopped and asked him if he had any Rush pictures. He immediately pulled out two or three matted, charcoal drawings (copies, not originals) of familiar Rush pictures, and said, "Twenty dollar."
I smiled and said, "Maybe later."
"Fifteen dollar," he said.
I smiled again and said, "I'll come back after I do some sightseeing. I don't want to carry it around."
"OK, you first customer today. Only ten dollar!"
I had entered a negotiation without even knowing it, and now he'd cut his price in half! Because I wanted to give Ray a special thank-you for his hospitality in Buffalo (and this picture was certainly a unique Rush artifact), I agreed to "ten dollar."
The CN Tower is Closed
While I'd heard about a power outage earlier in the morning, I didn't know it was affecting downtown Toronto until we walked into a tourist shop and the lady could only take cash (the credit card machine was down). I then noticed all the lights were off, too. It was during our transaction, when I was buying Drew a T-shirt, that the lights came back on. I told the lady, "I guess I'm your lucky charm."
Because the power had been out, I realized the CN tower was probably closed, too. Sure enough, there were security guards standing in front of the ticket office, telling people they "would be open soon." I looked up the tower and saw one of the elevators stuck about two-thirds of the way down. I wondered if people had been stuck in there since the power outage began.
Instead of going up the tower, we walked around Rogers field (formally the Toronto Skydome), where the Blue Jays play ball, and looked at the interesting artwork and view toward the water. I especially liked this artwork called "The Audience: Part I":
As we started walking toward the waterfront, I noticed how this part of Toronto reminded me more and more of San Diego, with its harbor and buildings built up against the shoreline of Lake Ontario. I guess the 80-degree F. temperature helped that perception, too. I could understand why people would want to live in this city -- at least during the summer.
Monica and I found our way to the Air Canada Centre (ACC) to see Rush's buses near the back. We didn't understand that we could walk through the bus area and into the front of the ACC. Instead, we walked back to the subway and rode back to our hotel for a short break.
Parliament building
Our next stop was the Parliament Building, where Rush had shot the cover of their now famous, breakthrough album "Moving Pictures." It's a beautiful building with old-world architecture and details that you don't usually see in cities on the west coast (although Vancouver, B.C. has a few of them).
Other Rush fans were also stopping by the building to get their picture of the famed building. Monica took at a picture of two people who had come all the way from Japan to see Rush.
We went in the building and met Janet, a nice woman who worked in the gift shot. We talked for about 15 minutes about the building. She told us about being an extra in the movie Murder at 1600, and getting a speaking role opposite Wesley Snipes. I told her I'd rent the movie to see her at some point.
When I went outside, I found Monica sitting in the shade of a monument. She was talking to her husband on her cell phone. I also sat down with her and tried to call a few people, but had no luck. This was one of the most peaceful moments on the trip for me, sitting there in front of the Moving Pictures building enjoying the warm air.
Walking back from Rosedale
On the way back to our hotel, we decided to ride farther north to the Rosedale stop and then walk back. The mix of new and old architecture along Yonge street was interesting, and something I've only see on the east coast of the U.S.
Rush in Toronto
Before the show, Monica and I met Ray and another friend Paul at the Spaghetti Factory. I've been to this restaurant chain in Seattle and Vancouver, B.C., and this was just as good. There's nothing like spaghetti and meatballs before a concert -- especially when you're really hungry (and I'd been walking all day).
We walked to the ACC and through the tour busses to the front of the building. When we walked in the venue, I was surprised how cold it was (although I wasn't complaining; I always get hot at concerts). We were seated about 15 rows up on Alex's side. From that vantage point, we could see Alex's tech working on all the guitars, adjusting things, etc.
Right before the house lights went down, Geddy's daughter Kyla (I'd seen a picture of her so I recognized her) and a pack of friends went up on the stage and added notes to Alex's Barbie Doll collection (I couldn't see what they were adding). We noticed how people were walking all over the arena with Snakes & Arrows laminates -- friends of the band, or a friend of a friend of the band. As Ray said later, "Laminates were everywhere!"
The lights went down, and Rush launched into their set. I saw that they'd abandoned the shtick with Geddy wiping off his face with a napkin and replaced it with Alex just starting Limelight, and then just waiting for Geddy to get onstage. It seemed to work better without the napkin wiping bit. The band played as well as they had when I'd seen them in July.
The only problem for us was that we were sitting on an aisle, and every single person sitting in our row and the rows around us was going to get beer every five minutes. There was a guy in front of us with a cane who seemed to keep falling asleep (or passing out), and people in his row would tap him on the shoulder -- sometimes multiple times -- to wake him up so they could go get their beer. A few times he almost fell down the steps as he stood up.
Once intermission came along, Monica and I talked about how bad the distractions were with all the people around us. She noticed that there were rows of seats available right next to the stage, a mere twenty feet from where Alex was standing. We decided to move down. A few people with laminates walked into our row and sat down to watch the show. Nobody told us to move. The only problem was the pyrotechnics during a few songs -- extremely loud and extremely hot that close to the stage!
During one song, a guy behind me yelled into my ear, "What is the guitar player's name?" I told him. Later he asked if he could buy my earplugs (I had brought my expensive ones that weren't for sale).
Alex seemed to have friends or family in the first row next to him, as he kept looking over and smiling. Geddy came over a few times, too.
When Neil played his solo, I took out my earplugs and watched him intently, as usual. I saw him lose his stick on the underside of his ride cymbal during his snare section -- and then he grabbed it before it dropped. Having had this happen to me a few times during a performance, I could only smile with understanding (only I was never playing to 15,000 people). I'm sure hardly anyone noticed.
I've noticed that the better my seats at a concert, the faster the time passes. This was no exception. Soon, the band was playing YYZ, and then the lights came on.
Monica and I took the subway back to the hotel, got some pizza from a place right next door, and talked about the show. I had inadvertently blown out my voice from singing along with the band, but that didn't stop me from talking.
For Rush's second and final show in the Northwest, my brother Erik, friend Ken, and my son Cameron traveled south to Ridgefield, Washington, to the Clark County Amphitheater. Ridgefield is 15 miles north of Portland, Oregon, and a 2-1/2 hour drive from Seattle.
I was still tired from the concert the night before near Seattle and from the lack of sleep. But whenever Rush is playing within driving distance of my home, I make a point to go. I like the different audiences, different seats, and changes in the band's performance. For this tour, I knew that Rush was playing an alternate set list, changing out one song for another like they did during the Vapor Trails tour, so that was an added bonus.
We'd been driving for about an hour when we pulled over for lunch. Erik suggested Hawks Prairie in Lacey, which was a favorite of my grandparents (and he figured he could get in a little gambling at the casino next door).
Hawks Prairie had "Texas-style air conditioning" (the kind that "makes your teeth hurt," as Tom Wolfe wrote in The Right Stuff), so it was a bit uncomfortable. The menu was typical American lunch faire, but Cameron was able to order a pancake. My friends Monica, Steve, and Ray, who were also driving to the concert, joined us at the restaurant to use the restroom and then to chat. They left around the time we got our food.
When Erik and Ken finished their lunch, they went to the casino while Cameron and I finished our lunch and paid the bill. When I left the restaurant, it started to sprinkle -- and I was hoping the weather wouldn't be a repeat of Friday night's torrential rain. Erik and Ken soon returned to the car with their winnings, and we drove off.
After another hour and a half, we arrived in Ridgefield, and were directed to park in a grass field. I hoped we would park closer to the venue than we did the night before -- but we ended up about a mile away. I also noticed the air was incredibly humid, at least for the Northwest.
We walked inside the venue and found our seats. Since we had some time, I took Cameron to the front of the stage and showed him Geddy's keyboards, the lighting rigs, and all the people working on the stage. He was a little overwhelmed to be that close.
As soon as the show started, we discovered that my brother Erik -- who is six-feet-seven -- was standing in front of the shortest people in the amphitheater. I'd put Cameron between us for that very reason -- so people would have a nice opening between two guys over six-feet. Erik felt self-conscious and tried to lean over to help people see -- but there wasn't much he could do. The flat angle of the amphitheater floor didn't help.
During the show, the first person to walk out and baste Geddy's chickens in the rotisserie was John Wesley of Porcupine Tree. I know he's a friend of Neil's, and I'd recently seen him in Seattle with Porcupine Tree. He even basted the little chicken hanging on Neil's hardware, as if to say hello to his friend. Then he went and sat on the side of the stage and watched the rest of the show.
About halfway through the set, Cameron seemed a little tired and overwhelmed. It was also much louder where we were sitting, and that's a lot for a seven-year-old to take. I asked him if he wanted to go to the lawn, and he said, "Do you?" Translation: "Yes, I want to but I'm afraid to say so." This is where you understand the meaning of being a parent: You have 15th row Rush tickets, your favorite band, and your kid wants to move to the back.
Sitting on the lawn was a totally different experience. People were lying around on blankets, sitting in chairs, and there was a a more casual air. If someone stood in front of people who were sitting down, they immediately received a, "Sit down!"
I sat down and let Cameron lean against me. I noticed that the video monitors that were delayed from row 15 were synched perfectly from the lawn. (I'm guessing that this was on purpose.) The light show also looked different. During "Between the Wheels," I noticed that the lights were animated, moving patterns, which I couldn't see down below. After the first set was over, we returned to our seats.
During intermission, I ended up talking to a couple sitting in front of us who were recently married. It was the wife's first Rush concert, and I could tell she was trying to enjoy it. They told me about going to the meet-and-greet before the show (a wedding gift from the husband's uncle!) and how quiet Geddy was. (Having met Geddy twice, I knew what they were talking about. He tends to be shy and quiet -- not the singer you see on stage hitting those incredible notes.)
The second set started with "Far Cry," and Cameron stepped up on his chair again. He loved it. And then he sat down and promptly fell asleep. Don't ask me how he was able to do this with all that racket, but he was snoring away. (Note to self: don't bring a seven-year-old to back-to-back Rush concerts!)
The band played with as much fire as the night before, but the crowd was definitely more responsive -- at least from where I was sitting. And once darkness settled around the amphitheater, the intensity of the concert increased. There's something about your sense of sight being reduced to just the band on stage, rather than seeing the entire amphitheater. It always seems louder, too.
At one point, the camera police came by and told my brother, "Put it away, or I'll take it away!" The camera police seemed much more interested in catching every single person trying to take photos at this show.
This brings up an interesting discussion: should bands really be worried about people taking photos of them? I can understand that they might not want flashes in their eyes, and that they definitely don't want people selling pictures of them -- but it just seems like part of modern concerts. Here's my two cents: Let people take pictures and then upload them to the Rush.com website. You could document your entire tour for free! (I believe the term is called crowdsourcing but for these purposes it could be called fansourcing) And you could add fresh content to your website every day. But I digress.
A lot of fans were waving signs at the band from the first 15 or 20 rows. One of them said, "Neil Peart: This is your life." I'm not sure what they were trying to communicate to Neil.
There was a father and daughter who held up a sign I couldn't read. During the encore, Michael (Neil's riding partner) came over to our row and shone his flashlight. I thought, "Uh-oh, he's coming to tell us to erase our pictures!" But he stepped by us (stopping briefly to gawk at Cameron snoring away) and then handed the girl a pair of Snakes & Arrows drumsticks. The father was elated, shaking Michael's hand. I'd read in Neil's books about how he sometimes tells Michael to do this, but I'd never seen this practice in action. Here's a picture of the happy 11-year-old drummer at Rushisaband.com.
The band launched into "YYZ," and then when it was all over, Geddy gave us one of his, "You guys have been awesome!" I'd heard this the night before, too, and I knew it used to be rare for him to say this (I'd only heard it one other time). But I'd just watched two of the best Rush concerts I'd ever seen. Perhaps more shows are becoming "magical" on this tour, and Geddy is just commenting on that. Either way, I'm glad I saw both these shows.
When my wife, brother, and 7-year-old son Cameron arrived at White River Amphitheater for the 8:00 p.m. Rush concert, we only had 30 minutes until the show started. We'd left the house at 5:15--which is plenty of time. But the Friday rush hour traffic, occasional torrential rain, and poorly designed roads leading to the amphitheater all helped in almost making us late.
White River Amphitheater sits on the Muckleshoot Indian Reservation, about 35 miles southeast of Seattle. To get to the amphitheater you drive by the massive Muckleshoot Casino and then on a country two-lane road, lined with dilapidated fireworks stands. When you see these stands, you've entered "Boom City" -- a place where anyone can buy illegal fireworks and shoot them off on the special test range. (And the City of Seattle can't do anything about it). Because the 4th of July had already passed, the stands were now empty, surrounded by huge piles of cardboard and other garbage.
As we finally arrived at the White River parking lot, we were directed farther and farther away from the venue entrance -- and rain started coming down like in a hurricane. We contemplated a long, wet walk to the venue. But then a miracle: As we parked the car in the "mud lot," the rain stopped. We put on our coats, but they weren't really necessary.
Once inside the venue, Erik and Brenda went to get food, and I took Cameron inside the Amphitheater to our seats. We walked by the soundboard, and I showed Cameron the array of computers, mixing boards, monitors, and other technology it takes to put on a Rush show, and then we found our seats (about row 25 on Alex's side).
Cameron had already asked me a thousand questions like any curious 7-year-old, and I was doing my best to answer them. When he was only four, we'd taken him to the R30 show at the same venue and it had been a magical night. We'd had fourth-row tickets, and both Geddy and Alex waved to him during the show, which I'd never seen before. I was hoping this would be an equally magical night.
Brenda returned with pizza and chicken strips. I had just enough time to finish the pizza before the house lights dimmed, and the show began. And that's when the trouble started.
First, Cameron didn't understand why the audience was standing up. I explained it was a way of showing our appreciation of the band's performance. And then when he did try to stand, he fell off the seat and landed on his hip. I didn't see this happen, but when I looked down he was sitting in embarrassment, crying. Brenda tried to comfort him, and I tried to talk to him. But he remained seated, inconsolable. Of course this distracted me from enjoying the first set, but when you bring a kid with you to a concert you have to expect that anything can happen.
During intermission, I walked down and talked to my friends Monica, Steve, Ray, and Dave. Monica and Steve had front row tickets, and they were having a great time. Monica had been taking pictures all night, and she showed me a few (evidently, the venue had OK'd non-professional cameras!).
Ray had come all the way from Buffalo, NY, to see the Northwest Rush shows (this was his first trip to this part of the country), and Dave had driven down from British Columbia (Dave is the only fan I've ever met who saw the the "Caress of Steel" tour). I'd first met Ray at the first two Vapor Trails shows, and met Dave at trio of shows for the Counterparts Tour in the Bay Area.
After this, I sat down with Cameron and talked to him about the second half of the concert. I told him that he needed to try and stand up, because he'd enjoy the show a lot more. He agreed to try.
When the second set started, with the band launching into "Far Cry," I'll never forget seeing Cameron pop up beside me, smiling. I held onto him so he wouldn't fall, but he eventually stood by himself. He stood for most of the second set.
The band played through the second set with more fire than I'd seen in a long time. Watching them open the second set with five songs off their latest album "Snakes & Arrows" showed how confident and proud Rush was of their new material. This is what separates Rush from the reunion bands; rather than coast on their deep catalog of hits, they played their latest songs one after another. There has been some criticism of this decision--or at least the acknowledgement that this could be a dangerous move--but it was clear to me this was the heart of the concert.
And if these new songs weren't enough, there was Neil's brand-new drum solo. I've always enjoyed Neil's solos, but I'd thought they'd grown a little uninspired since the "Test for Echo" tour (the same "Drum Also Waltzes," the same horn samples, the same "Scars" section, etc.). But now Neil's solo reflected a new adventurousness. I'd read that the entire first half of the solo was improvised, which is a very different approach for Neil. As he recently wrote on his website:
"It is also interesting that after making the instructional DVD on drum soloing after the last tour, where I talked so much about how I go about composing a solo, and having written recently in other places that as a drummer I considered myself more of a composer than an improviser -- I decided to start improvising.
"It's like I had finally resigned myself to a personal limitation, then told it to **** off!
"Nothing wrong with that, obviously. So this tour the first half of my solo is improvised over a simple foundation of single bass-drum beats and alternating high-hat clicks, as I experiment widely over it every night. It's been taking me some interesting places, while still giving me the consistency of the orchestrated second half, so I know the customers will always be properly satisfied."
Before the encore, Cameron asked me, "What are they doing?" He didn't understand why the band left the stage, only to come back and keep playing. I explained about encores.
Once the show was over, we started walking out of the amphitheater. As we passed the mixing board, I saw Howard Ungerleider, Rush's veteran lighting director talking with a man and some kids. I had remembered how Neil Peart's younger brother Danny lived in Vancouver, B.C., and usually came down to the Seattle show with his family. I took a closer look at him, and he did resemble Neil. I also saw Ray Daniels, Rush's manager, standing behind the sound board. I'd only seen him at one Rush show before and was surprised he was here.
As we walked out of the amphitheater, Howard and Ray walked with Neil's brother and family. Neil's brother was talking about how his kids liked to stay up later than him. As we walked outside, they turned to go to the backstage area. I stopped Erik and told him I thought that was Neil's brother. His response: "He looks just like him!"
We made it through the mud lot to Erik's car, and then we waited for an hour to even get out of the parking lot. We spent the time eating snacks, talking about the show, and looking at the pictures I took. It was one of the best Rush shows I'd ever seen--maybe even the best. I wondered how I would have the energy for another show the next night.
On the second night to see The Police, I was running late. Dale, my brother-in-law, was waiting for me outside the Sonics store, and I was still driving.
"I'll be there in 10 minutes," I said to him on my cell phone.
I drove to the same parking lot as the night before, a few blocks away from the arena, and they had inexplicably raised their parking rates from $5 to $10 for event parking. This was actually a great deal; all the other lots were set at $20. This might be what you'd expect in some of the bigger cities, but that's astronomical in Seattle.
I met up with Dale. I pointed out that the people who had been there the night before with "the end is near" signs were gone. I wondered if they had met their proselytizing quotas. We walked inside the arena.
As Dale and I walked around the arena, a burly security guard eyed us and said, "Can I help you find something" in a suspicious and condescending tone. Dale and I looked at each other, wondering if someone had put "kick me" stickers on our coats. Or was it because the guard knew I had a mini-DV camera hidden in my coat pocket? (I had decided to take a few "memories" for myself that night.)
As I ate a foot-long hotdog, and Dale drank a beer, he told me about seeing Fiction Plane at Silver Platters in Seattle that day. Evidently the turnout hadn't been great, so that allowed him to talk to the band more. He also filmed the entire performance. We both thought this band was headed for great things.
We walked through the masses to our 200-level seats (a far cry from my amazing seats the night before), then sat down and watched Fiction Plane play through their set. These seats were on the first row of the 200 section, so you're on a bit of an overhang. When I'd squeezed by our neighbors into our seats, I had that familiar feeling I got when I was in high places -- but I knew I'd get used to it.
After Fiction Plane, Dale coaxed me into meeting the band at the meet-and-greet in the foyer. When we were standing in line, he said, "You want a picture with them?" I said no. "Why not?" I'm not a picture guy, I answered. "I'll tell you what: I'll get in the picture, too," he said. I told him no again. "Some day these guys might be huge, and this might be your only chance to meet them and get a picture," he said. "I won't even send you picture. I'll keep it encrypted on my hard drive."
I finally said OK (it was obviously the only answer).
When it was our turn to talk to Fiction Plane, I asked the drummer what kind of drums he was playing. (I had assumed they were Tama Starclassics, but I wasn't sure.) He answered, "Tama Starclassic Bubinga wood." I knew as a fellow drummer that this was some of the most exotic wood in the world. "I've never played this kit until this tour," he said. I wondered if Stuart Copeland's endorsement deal with Tama meant that Pete would get a kit like this. (Thanks for forcing me outside my comfort zone, Dale!)
We got back to our seats and waited for The Police.
They played the same set as the night before, except they didn't play "Murder By Numbers." The energy level of the band seemed to be much higher on this night, as evidenced by Andy Summers doing his scissor kick in one of the songs. Their playing also seemed more precise.
Sitting above the crowd in the 200 level allowed me to hear the crowd singing along with each song. The stage and light show were also more dramatic. I finally got the nerve to pull out the video camera and film a few songs. I didn't pull out the LCD view finder, so I had to aim with the small viewfinder on the top. This made my camera work shaky. Plus, sitting on the edge against the high wall made it harder to get a great shot of the band. (When I watched it later, I was actually surprised how great the video came out .)
The set went by much faster than the night before. I attributed this to "relativity." For example, when you don't know a road that you're driving on, it seems to take more time to drive it. The same is true for concerts.
When it was all over, I was happy I'd finally seen one of my favorite bands. Sting, Stuart, and Andy still had a lot of magic left between them, even if their playing together wasn't always perfect. I know 10 or so shows into the tour, they're going to be a force of nature.
If you wonder why The Police are such a big deal, take a look at this picture. They're not paying any of us to sing along with them (I think this was during "Can't Stand Losing You"); but everyone is singing and having a great time. And that's what entertainment is all about.
This was the first of two Police concerts in Seattle.
Prelude
Like most fans, I never thought I'd see The Police play a live concert. They broke up at the height of their fame in 1983, when I was still in high-school (I know, that dates me), and Sting went on to a successful solo career. I saw him on the tours for these albums:
I always enjoyed seeing Sting, and it was great to hear him play those old Police songs with some of the finest musicians out there. But in the back of my mind, I was always wondering what it would have been like to see him with Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers back in the day.
On Wednesday, June 6, I found out.
Sidebar: Stewart Copeland
I guess something important to know up front is that Stuart Copeland is one of my favorite drummers, right up there with Neil Peart of Rush. No two drummers have influenced me more. I've followed Copeland's solo career, from his soundtrack work in "Rumblefish" and "Wall Street" to his more recent work in Oysterhead with Les Claypool. Copeland has made an indelible mark on drumming with his hi-hat technique, a "controlled chaos" style that touches on Keith Moon of the Who, and his unique blending of Ska rhythms with rock. If I were to pick two favorite Copeland tracks with The Police, I guess I'd go with "Can't Stand Losing You" and "Spirits in the Material World." The former I played with a band in college; I still remember learning his 3-against-4 sidestick rhythm (something I still use today). The latter includes some amazing hi-hat work and a wild bass drum placement during the verses (try playing along some time).
Fiction Plane
On Wednesday, I drove down to Key Arena with Brenda. We were able to sit down at Michelangelo's in the Seattle Center House for a quick Italian dinner before heading over to the arena.
As we finally arrived at the White River parking lot, we were directed farther and farther away from the venue entrance -- and rain started coming down like in a hurricane. We contemplated a long, wet walk to the venue. But then a miracle: As we parked the car in the "mud lot," the rain stopped. We put on our coats, but they weren't really necessary.
