They were indeed. Fun times.
Quite a few times - but gigs - not concerts, and sans parents permission too. I’d pack a backpack & hitch-hike with a friend to other cities, and while there see bands.
Used to go to Edmonton, Banff, Vancouver, Victoria, and Regina - and I have caught shows in all those cities.
The parents never knew about Edmonton because I could be back the next day, and Regina was a trip with my dad - and while there I went out to see a band.
Vancouver & Victoria - well that was the year I ran away from home.
Quite a few times - but gigs - not concerts, and sans parents permission too. I’d pack a backpack & hitch-hike with a friend to other cities, and while there see bands.
Used to go to Edmonton, Banff, Vancouver, Victoria, and Regina - and I have caught shows in all those cities.
The parents never knew about Edmonton because I could be back the next day, and Regina was a trip with my dad - and while there I went out to see a band.
Vancouver & Victoria - well that was the year I ran away from home.
I went to a Metallica show just outside of Boston, Mass (in Gillette stadium to be precise) while I lived in Middleburry, CT. I’ve also gone to several concerts in Hartford, CT (including one with Greenday, one or two Ozzfests, a Ronnie James Dio show, and an Iron Maiden Show) which was between one hour and 45 minutes away (depending on traffic). Of course it should be noted that there was absolutely nothing to do in Middleburry. Litterally I had to go the next town over just to see a movie, or go bowling.
I took my boys to a Metallica show (birthday present, they are HUGE fans) last year in San Francisco (Cow Palace), which is less than an hour away from here. We were on the floor (general admission.) My husband and I stayed close to my younger son (who was 13 then) but we pretty much gave the then 17 year old free reign, although he was always within eyesight. They had an awesome time.
As a teenager, and into my early 20s, I lived an hour’s drive from Detroit, but actually in Ontario, Canada. We drove all the time to see…
Kiss
REO Speedwagon
Elton John
YES
David Bowie
The Kinks
Or an hour in the other direction to London, Ontario to see:
Bryan Adams (blech now)
Loverboy (double blech)
Van Halen (first album tour)
Ahhh the memories. (Or lack thereof in most cases)
Al Transom: it’s a My Chemical Romance show at the UIC Pavilion on September 18, I believe
You may want to skip this one, One of my co-workers saw them over the summer and said it was the worst live show she had ever seen. I guess the singer was wacked out on something and couldn’t hold a note or stay in time .
In a band called My Chemical Romance? Inconceivable!
Now if you’ll excuse me, Matlock is on…
Over this past summer or the summer in 2004? I know that the lead singer was an alcoholic and drug addict back then and he went to rehab/therapy in August 2004 and has been sober since then. I really want to see them live. I’ve seen them live on TV (the closest I’ve been to seeing them live anywhere) and I think they sound really great. Anyways, anyone else?
Trust me, what you’re missing could be fit into the head of a pin. What a useless venue! The local ordinances have come down pretty hard on their noise level, so you can almost speak over the music in the pavillion seating. And if you’re on the lawn? Expect nothing but a reverb-filled noise and no views.
That’s actually the venue I went to at 16 years old. I realize I said Chicago and not Tinley Park, but whatever!
I lived in Kingston, ON as a youth and went and saw Michael Jackson in Montreal in 1984. That was pretty cool.
Ah, one can never forget the intertwining aromas of cowshit and pot smoke…Eau de Barton, as it shall be known.
:: cough cough…'ere…cough, cough::
Lived in Denver, as a 15 year old I got a ride from the 'rents to go see The Rolling Stones an hour north in Ft Collins back in the fall of '69.
Another reason I’d love to go. My parents think I’m not mature enough to take care of myself. :rolleyes: Anyways, I’m still jealous of you all, who had cool parents who let you go to concerts. Actually, I’ve noticed that most of you said that the venues were about a few hours drive. Well, from Toronto to Chicago, I’m sure it’s more than just a few hours. Anyways, I gave it a shot and asked my parents if I could take a bus to Chicago on next Friday evening (with all of my assignments due the next week handed in early because I probably wouldn’t be able to do it on that weekend). I blindly suggested that I ask a Chicago Doper to let me stay over for one night and then I’d take another bus back and return.
They said no.
I guess I’ll have to wait till they come back to Canada for another tour.
Maybe you can cough “stay overnight at a friend’s house.”
Technically, I was a teenager, but not underage: the summer I was 19, I followed the 1983 Simon and Garfunkel reunion tour. They had venues in 19 cities, and I got to about 8 of them, in the places where I had friends or relatives who a) wanted to go to the concert with me and b) would let me sleep on their couch for a night or two.
Yup, I’m probably going to wait until I’m 18 to do all the stuff I want to do because technically, I’m still a teenager by then.
interface2x, hehe, I’d do that, but my parents constantly call me to make sure I’m okay and they always check with the friend’s parents, too. And I don’t think I can get to Chicago (from Toronto!), watch the concert and be back by Sunday night.
I wish.
In 1964 I went to San Diego (from LA) to see the Beatles. (Yes I am old, shut up or I will hit you with my cane)
When I was 18, I drove from Orange County, Calif., to Los Angeles with a couple of buddies to see the Rolling Stones play at the LA Coliseum.
We arrived at 3 a.m., and got in a VERY long line forming outside the gates. It was general admission back then, meaning those who came the earliest got the best seats. We were one of the first 500 people in line.
My boyfriend arrived a few hours later. As we sat in line on the grass and watched the sun come up, people would pass bottles of beer, liquor and wine down the line, and we’d take a swig, and then pass it on. Lord knows where it came from or what was in it. A few joints were passed down the line, as well.
People walked up and down the line waving their arms in the air and shouting, “Acid, four bucks a hit! Acid, four bucks a hit!” It was insanity.
When we were finally allowed into the stadium, it was a swarm. My friends and I ended up on the field, third row from the giant metal bars right in front of the stage. We struggled to stay together but held our ground. If you get lost in a sea of 90,000 people, you’re pretty much screwed.
Three bands were set to open for the Stones: Prince, J. Giels, and George Thorogood. By the time Prince took the stage, the sun was high and it was very VERY hot. You couldn’t really leave the field, because you may not ever get back to the same place again. Security was, in a word, sucky.
Prince walked on stage wearing that ridiculous purple/hot pink outfit he liked so much, and then started singing, “You Can Jack Me Off,” and, after Stones fans exchanged looks of “WTF?” they began to boo. Not only did they boo, they threw garbage onto the stage. Much of it hit Prince. He dodged a few beer bottles, got fed up, said, “Fuck you” into the mic, threw it down onto the stage, and stormed off. In front of 90,000 people.
As we waited for J. Giels, people began to faint. Luckily for them, they didn’t fall when they did or they would have been trampled. They didn’t fall because they were so wedged in that the other bodies around them held them up.
After a person fainted, men nearby would lift the afflicted person over their heads to the top of the crowd. They would then shout, “Body!” and begin to roll the person over the top of the crowd in this manner until the victim reached the metal bar in front of the stage, where Security would pluck them from the crowd and rush them to the medical tent. We heard that after they were plucked out by Security, they were not allowed to return.
During J. Giels set, my boyfriend was injected with something while standing in the crowd. I remember he said, “What the fuck … ?” and yanked his arm back in front of him. There was a little pinprick in the crook of his arm. To this day, we don’t know what he got, but he was so messed up that I found him several hours later at the back end of the stadium, just wandering around. I had to shout his name three times before he responded.
It was a long, quiet ride home.
Thus ends my teenage concert story.
:eek: Wow, Large Marge. Um, is it okay if I say that sounds scary to me?