It was a Saturday night and my phone was ringing, guess I'll answer it.
"Circus, its Bear, Dude I've got VIP Backstage passes to see The Flaming Lips next weekend are you in?"
Bear is my buddy that lives down in Scottsdale, we don't talk too often unless I'm bugging him to make me a new SLUG ad or he's got some crazy idea.
"Damn, really? I'm in! I haven't seen the Lips play in years!"
"Cool man, fly down on Friday, I have the same tickets for Friday, Michael Franti & Spearhead are playing that night! Woooooooo!"
Fuck. I stood there silent, how could I break it to him that I'd rather not see TFL play if it meant I had to put up with two hours of that putrid music.
"Are you there? Circus? Brah? Circus?"
"Sorry Dude I've got a band on my show that night, and I really wanna see them play, I could fly down on Saturday morning..."
"Fuck that shit! Franti Backstage passes to hang out with Franti man! Come'on man! Don't you just looooooooove Franti?!"
Well TFL are my favorite band... but, Franti? I would rather I'd rather pass kidney stones or sit through a Kottonmouth Kings and Slightly Stoopid concert. Oh man, and the hippy moths that swarm to any of his shows, stinking of BO and homemade incense hula-hooping. Can't do it, can't do it. But, TFL... I had to go.
"I'm in man, I'll cash in some SkyMiles tonight and book my flight", it sickened me to say, I was finally giving in and was going to have to witness something I've been avoiding for years.
"Awesome! Franti! The Flaming Lips! Wooooooooo!" Bear screamed and hung up.
For the next four days all I could think about was seeing Wayne, Michael, and Steven play a two hour set. The only problem was, whenever I was daydreaming about Wayne's alabaster suit I'd get that sick feeling in my stomach like its Sunday night and I have school the next day. I should be so happy about the upcoming trip, but I wasn't I was dreading Friday night, I couldn't stop thinking about how horrible it'd be. When Franti came to SLC last week and I was getting mad texts and tweets bugging me to meet up for the free concert, my only response was that I couldn't put up with that lame music once in a year and definitely not twice in one week.
I started thinking about pulling out, every fiber in my body was urging me to stay the hell out of Arizona. Then Bear called and left me a voicemail.
"Hey man, I gave away the tickets for Friday night, we never get to hang out so lets just chill by the pool Friday night, screw Franti. If I need to see him I'll come up to Salt Lake."
The joy of this message was overwhelming, it overtook me. Suddenly the entire trip was exciting me, I was in a daze. I saved that message immediately, if I'm ever having a bad day I'll just play it back to remind me that I didn't have to see Franti play, and I hopefully never will. Wayne and Co. were extremely awesome, I've caught them over a dozen times, each show has been breathtaking, check out the pics.
Twilight Concert Series needs to book them next summer, or someone needs to kick down the cash to get them to Utah, soon!