Warped Tour - Post III - Because Road Trips are Fun Too

I truly believe that people like to take road trips with me because of my mad navigational skills. It's true! Every time I direct people, we end up at the right place; in a round about way.

Of course, any little trip, whether it be for just a day, or overnight and even a weekend, is never quite as enjoyable as the roadtrip itself.

Our BIG Warped Tour Weekend was no different. We started off in B-CS in rare form, Ginger's Ipod playing all the tunes our ears could stand and the girls in the back, twittering on their I-phones about how cool their mothers are (don't laugh Kelsey and Austyn; you know it's true).

We made all the right exits and all the right turns (you can thank me AND the little voice in the on-board mapping system with the sexy accent). Yes ma-am...you are welcome!

Of course, no road trip would be complete with out the laughter and the all too important "I HAVE TO GO PAYE PAYE" (pee pee) so I kept my eyes peeled for a suitable exit for when needed.

The first one I saw, I told Ginger "Hey, let's pee here" so we exited the roadway and onto a feeder road that was lined with....grass and a broken down neighborhood; but no gas station or fast food places. We, almost immediately, realized we were not near a suitable place to go "PAYE PAYE." Indeed, we found ourselves immediately on the wrong side of the tracks in an unknown town and the first person we saw was a scary guy on his porch smoking a crack pipe, no doubt awaiting his crack bitch to come home from her waitress job at the Waffle House and fix him a sammich.

"NOBODY MAKE EYE CONTACT!!!" Ginger yells as we all proceeded to be interested in whatever the church was to our left, holding in the "PAYE PAYE" as we laughed at our blunder, bumping over pot holes and gravel. I reassured Ginger that if she just made a left at the stop sign, we would get back on our road and we could exit at the NEXT stop.....just "DON'T LOOK BACK....CRACK GUY COULD FOLLOW" - the voice of the mapping system irritating my own navigation as she said "Recalculating..." (shut up beyotch!)

We were very fortunate though, as the Crack Man Whore was likely too wasted to get off his porch and merely followed us with his eyes, no doubt wondering how much he could get for the rims of the car, were we to stop long enough in front of his house. That was not to be a problem though, as Ginger peeled rubber all the way back to the highway.

You would think that our next exit would be perfect for the "PAYE PAYE" but we were racked with uncontrollable giggles as we pulled up to the "Gas and Stuf" and were unable to control our mirth as we realized that if these people couldn't spell properly, then they for sure kept their nasty bathroom under lock and key and we would have to buy something in order to release the "PAYE PAYE" - we just couldn't do it and after a few seconds deliberation and much laughter, Ginger pulled out and back onto the highway in search of suitable release.

It would have been easy to hold in the "PAYE PAYE" had we not then come across a couple of interesting billboards that made us not only ponder their meaning, but caused us to burst into more uncontrollable laughter as we tried to decipher their code.

The first billboard, I have not been able to find a picture of with my many searches on the internet, but it was undoubtedly an ad campaign warning young children/kids of the dangers of smoking. It had a picture of the back of a school bus and merely read "UNDER AGE SMOKING? MEET YOUR NEW RIDE...."
So, we had to ask ourselves....are they saying that if you smoke, the only job you'll ever get is that of a school bus driver? (*SNICKER SNICKER* *SQUEEZE SQUEEZE*) Or do they mean that if you are caught smoking, they will make you ride the school bus? Like, with all the other smokers? And if so, does that mean you can smoke on the bus?

I dare say, we still don't have that one figured out...

This one, however, was clear from 'almost' the beginning:



As you can imagine, as soon as we saw the "Condoms to Go URL", we were busting a gut, and all four of us were in shock-hysteria-laughter...the kind that is silent because you are laughing too hard to even breathe. Oh, you snort now and then, for sure, but mostly you just gasp for air and nod to the person next to you in case they don't understand that you are just laughing. I nearly lost my grip on my "PAYE PAYE" and Ginger was forced to pull into the very next stop. A halfway decent place, run by some guy who was probably named Achmed. It had a subway AND a pizza place inside as well as pool tables and FOUR STALLS in the bathroom! Talk about elation. RELEASE THE PAYE PAYE!

The problem was....one of the stalls had no door at all. No door.

No.

door.

It's hard enough to release the "PAYE PAYE" when you know you aren't going to sit on the toilet seat at all. But to hover with ease over a john with no door on the stall takes some defined acrobatics (See reference to my rules for bathroom etiquette). I gallantly chose this stall for myself....seeing as it was likely the most unused (ha ha...see I had a reason guys!!!) and there was much sighing of relief.

And more sighing. We had been waiting a looooongggg time ya know....

I want to say that there wasn't any soap, which seems likely given that this place wasn't all that much to the naked eye...but we all washed none-the-less (Ginger being the germaphobe that she is......and really....who wouldn't be in a place like this?!).

We each grabbed a snack, some drinks and were back in business and hitting the road, our eyes NOW peeled for hopefully more hilarious billboards.

None of them had quite the effect as the first two though, so we busied ourselves with finding the correct exit for our hotel.

It was an EXQUISITE hotel. Very nice. 28 floors I believe. If you ever get the chance, I totally recommend the Hilton Anatole in Dallas, Texas. One word of advice, however. When you make reservations, ask about any conventions that might be taking place that weekend. Just a thought.

We actually hit on a very "different" kind of convention. It was for the National Federation of the Blind - their annual convention. It was HUGE. We were most likely the only sighted guests that weekend. There were walking sticks and seeing eye dogs everywhere. And of course, I had to re-pave my way to hell by uncontrollably saying things like "Don't worry - nobody saw that" and other worse things that I REFUSE to mention. I don't want any blind people happening on this site and taking offense. Plus, I was offended myself.....sorry God....and please bless the blind.

There was one occasion when we all loaded in the car to go to Denny's - our favorite thing to do when we are exhausted after a concert. We pluggedthe restaurant address into the Garmin and I "helped" direct Ginger on the route...only to find that the Denny's was just across the street from the hotel. We literally drove across the street to eat....while the BLIND hotel patrons dared to walk across the traffic to get to the same place. The blind people got there quicker than us!

We actually had many, enjoyable interactions with the blind during our stay. One seeing eye dog actually nosed my ass. But most impressive, was Speed Racer, the nice looking blind fellow that approached us and asked us very politely if we knew where the atrium was. He was blind, yet he had beautiful eyes. I wonder if he knows that?

Ginger pointed in one direction (she pointed ya'all.....) and then told him it was just in the way he was already heading and then over to his right. She didn't even really know if she had told him correctly (she did, by the way) but we watched in awe as he used his walking stick and quickly headed in that direction, deftly avoiding all obstacles in his way well before he got near them. . I don't even think I could have kept up with his pace, even if I had to go "PAYE PAYE."

It was baffling to see many of the blind people struggle, AND overcome some of the things that we usually take for granted. Yet is was also amazing!! The other senses that a blind person develops to overcome their lack of sight continues to amaze me. Just listening to some of the conversations many of the blind people had with their colleagues and friends, I was almost ashamed to admit that their intelligence was way above mine. Ashamed, because my narrow-mindedness somehow always led me to believe that if you can't see, how can you learn? How could you know as much as somebody with full sight?

Dude....Helen Keller....Hello?! Yes, me....who laughs at things like getting lost in crackville and dirty billboard signs and getting lost while looking for a restroom. Am I to believe that I am really as shallow as that? I do feel I am a changed person at having witnessed the everyday struggles and difficulties that all blind people have to learn to overcome.

I'm also pretty sure that "Speedy Gonzales," the blind man that we gave directions to inside the hotel, could have navigated us home to B-CS quicker than I did as we drove through Waco, trying to find the highway 6 exit that I was SURE was 'just up ahead' not quite realizing that the exit we needed was the one we had just used to stop and go "PAYE PAYE." *sigh*

It took a lot of willpower for Ginger not to throw her french fries (the ones Kelsey didn't eat) into the back seat at me, (along with her nicely quartered fish sandwich) as I quietly said "I think it's next..." Yeah....my mad navigational skills.

"Will power is to the mind like a strong blind man who carries on his shoulders a lame man who can see." Arthur Schopenhauer

Enterobius vermicularis-The Warped Weekend: Part Deux

What makes a responsible parent give up their hard earned weekend to take their teenage offspring to an activity that is decidedly one of the last places on earth any parent would ever want their child to be?Temporary insanity? Let me help you out here with a little "Emo-Parenting 101" - and then see if you can't answer that question.


This past weekend, my friend Ginger and I accompanied our daughters to Van’s Warped Tour on what was decidedly the hottest day of the Dallas summer, so that they could rock out to some of their favorite bands while her and I enjoyed 1 or 2 refreshing, ice cold, $10.00 beers (yeah, we were done after 2. Beers that is. We were done drinking before 1:00 p.m. and Ginger was sporting a nice headache before 2:00. Nice....

If you don’t know what Van’s Warped Tour is – Lucky you (and lucky your pocket book)! Basic explanation is that it’s a “clothing optional-modern-day-Woodstock” but instead of Hippies, it’s attended by melodramatic teenagers who don’t smile and keep their hair covering at least three-quarters of their face. Except for our daughters, who were grinning ear to ear, for the most part, and were complete angels.

The bands that Ginger and I wanted to see played at 1:15, and then at 7:15 and 8:10....giving us a big SIX HOUR gap in which to people watch; and boy did we see some. . . . people.

Like this guy, who wore only a bandana, held up with suspenders and a conspicuous pair of knee pads.

"I'm too Emo for my shirt, too Emo for my shirt...so Emo it hurts...."

Yeah, yeah…so nobody who is Emo thinks they are Emo…and I don’t think my daughter and her friend are Emo…but they sure do party with a LOT of Emo people.

At least our daughters weren't hanging out with these girls, who, much to the dismay and mortification of soon-to-be-Nurse Ginger, splashed each other with reckless abandon in a puddle of oozing, foul hepatitis water. Playtime was actually over when we walked by and they were just sitting in the middle of it.

It was all Ginger could do not to ask for their parent’s telephone number so that she could call and warn them to watch for signs of high fever, chills or a red, swollen, pus-oozing rash. Somebody at this venue MUST have gone home with ring worm or staph infection. Ginger is certain of it!

I can't say that we were too impressed with much of the screaming, from the bands or the fans (ever tried to take a nap at a rock concert? It's hard!) but we did like the sound of this one guy who calls himself "I can Mess Up any Lyric" or "I'm messed up but I can sing." or was it "Nobody can mess things up like me" I can never get it right...but he was good. He had a more mellow sound that I like, and he actually sang the words instead of screaming them.

I also liked this guy, The Rocket Summer. Some guys can really sing, and we appreciated their efforts to not alienate the few, shocked parents who were in attendance. He reminded me a lot of Bon Jovi, but Ginger doesn't like Bon Jovi, so that's not it either. I think it's just that we understood what he was saying so that made it music.

This is the Mosh Pit that Ginger's daughter SWEARS she was not near...and okay...I have to say I believe her. I just don't think she would be that crazy or make herself look that foolish!!!




In all, the most unnerving thing about the concert was that many of these kids parents could NOT have known what their kids were wearing, where they were actually going (other than a concert) because I resfuse to believe that there are this many parents who would allow their kids to do things like this:

Or this:

Or especially this:

So, are we crazy moms or cool moms for spending a Saturday outside, in temperatures of not less than 100 degrees or more, with a bunch of wild, crazy punk teenagers and music that made our ears ring? I would have to say crazy for sure because we definitely won't be doing it again. Next year - the dads can go!

The one thing that made it bearable is that we at least knew where our kids were and what they were doing (for the most part) and what they were definitely NOT doing. It's really kind of frightening to know that your child is right in front of the stage (Ginger's daughter has a talent for pushing right to the front without a problem; I'm still kicking myself for not having her drag me up to Travis Clark!) and you suddenly see all kinds of crap (water bottles, plastic beer bottles, etc) flying in that direction. Ginger and I would just turn and look at each other and shrug. What are you gonna do? At least our girls made it out of there safely, whether it was because we were there or because they are just smart kids, who knows?

Things we learned for certain this weekend are as follows:

1) rain panchos can be used for sitting, but when used later as an actual pancho, should be worn dirt side out.

2) it's really stupid to pay somebody $1.00 to take a picture of their concert schedule, especially if your friend then does the same thing for free - DOH!

3) A tree will not protect you from the rain as well as a bathroom.

4) A teenagers entire wardrobe can be purchased at a concert merch table.

5) Our daughters are so NOT Emo. Puh-leeze! They don't cut!

6) I really like to say "merch."

7) we are pretty cool moms whether our daughters admit it or not.

Oh, lest I forget the former circus side-show freak, who retired from Ringling Bros. in order to peddle beer at concert venues, that was trying to pick up on Ginger by impressing her with tales about his possible pro-wrestling career, and later on, the over-weight, very inebriated merch guy (I think he used to be a Carnie) who wanted BOTH of us, though he never got his eyes as high as our faces.

....yeah....we've still got it....

TO FOLLOW: PART TRES - Road Trips, Vegetable Abuse, Smoking on the bus and Blind people.

Enterobius fermicularis - The Warped Weekend - PART I

Since I knew it would be difficult to sum up the recent Warped weekend in only one blog, I'm going to do this one in short installments.

To say the least it was, for the most part, a blast. To say the most, well, you’ll just have to read on and be patient.

One of the most annoying yet endearing qualities about me (yes, I just called myself endearing) is that I have this insatiable desire to make sure that everyone has a good time. I have been like this since childhood; unable to bear in any family member or friend their “saddened, angry or bored mood”, I would entertain them with jokes or antics on the road, the hotel room or in the tent, depending on our location. Any topic was fodder for the distraction. It bothers me to see others not having fun or enjoying themselves as any road-trip is meant to be enjoyed. It is both a curse (for me and whomever I may be with) and a release.

In either case, I ended up being the “fun sucker” for my daughter at Warped Tour and I am remorseful enough that I should admit that here for the world to see. Sorry Punky!

I’m sorry that I had to stop being a friend and act the roll of parent after the jolt of fear that seared through me when I thought you were being kidnapped and sold into slavery!!

Turns out, I was not far off, what with the Vans Warped Tour staff’s blatant attempt to play on the excitement and vulnerability of fans and convince them to serve in their catering tent, dishing slop to the many performers and staff that is necessary to put on a show of this magnitude. Who cares if you spend two hours on your feet, NOT rocking out to the bands you actually paid good money to see, but instead serving up beans and rice to their roadie’s and stage hands, hoping for a glimpse of your favorite rockers or maybe a smile from some cool drummer?

At least they give the kids a green bracelet to get back stage for any performance; cool right? Well, it could have been had I not made my daughter feel so terrible about abandoning her friend K (who opted to watch and rock to her favorite bands rather than join the other unwittingly enslaved fans in the torturous heat to play cafeteria lady serving strangers dinner) that the entire experience was ruined by her discomfort at having believed she ruined everyone else s' concert experience (those being the words I used to scold her through several texts as I tried to figure out WTH she was doing and where she was).

I basically cussed her out for making me feel uncomfortable, because I was afraid others would not enjoy themselves because she had jumped at what she thought was a chance to meet one or two idols, but instead turned into a chance at hard labor; I foolishly felt that she needed a lesson in humility so I bombarded her with texts of how inconsiderate and rude she was being. How could she leave her friend to conquer the concert alone? Why would she not stick around to actually witness band performances? Was this not what we spent so much money to do?

So now, her most memorable souvenir will be the unused backstage pass bracelet that she couldn’t bear to use out of the guilt that I had rained upon her. She did try to convince me to put it on and try to go backstage for We The Kings, so I could witness, possibly up close and personal, the ONLY band I had truly any desire to see, and my own shameless idol, Travis Clark. But we were all far too exhausted to even last through the whole set. I could barely even harmonize my beautiful rendition of Demi Levato (K's personal idol - NOT!!) singing "We'll Be a Dream." *SIGH*

So, for ruining my daughter’s Warped experience, I am truly sorry. I love you Punky! Thank you for realizing in yourself a passion for wanting to meet your idols and doing all that you can to do so, even if you realized only that you don't ever want to go into the catering business!! Keep the green pass as a badge of honor for having endured your mother's realistic fears and tortuous and vitriolic text messages and the heat and sweat that you endured before you finally and literally bumped into Jake Germany on our way out of the bacterial breeding ground.

This was but one experience, the uncomfortable one, that was hopefully overshadowed by many of the events that brought hysterical laughter and tears to us throughout the rest of the weekend.

With the next blog installment (to follow this one shortly) I will make it up to everyone that "I" made uncomfortable and then some!

P.S. my daughter does NOT approve of this message! She said I did NOT ruin her time, that she had a blast and would do the catering all over again because she actually did get to meet and serve several band members; she would not have left K if K had not been with two other people and quite capable of enjoying herself....blah blah blah blah blah.... Okay...so what she is actually saying, is that "I" didn't ruin her day with my ugly text's to her. That's a plus for me then! It means I did my job well!

Coming soon: Gas and Stuf, putting an end to vegetable abuse, Emo State Fair and Side Show, rain, wet rain, sideways rain and a convention for the blind.