The Vitalogy of Adventure

It seems like a long time ago, and I guess it was now. 16 years to be exact. July 8, 1995 at the Marcus Ampitheater in Milwauke, WI, full of excitement and curiosity, I experienced a Pearl Jam concert at the height of their popularity. 16 years is a long time. I mean it is hard to remember just how HUGE that band was in the early 90's.  Ironically, it was their railing against the blind faith of all that was huge that made them so huge; no more hugeness as usual.

Tickets were frustratingly hard to come by. Pearl Jam was fighting, in both Congress and the court of public opinion, with Ticketmaster over the $2 service fees the ticket giant was charging. In retrospect two bucks seems paltry. The band attempted to tour without using Ticketmaster.  The result was that the most popular band in the country could only schedule something like 7 shows all summer.  Like I said, tickets were scarce. But somehow I got a pair (row 20, dead center) and still remember my friend Jay coming up to me just outside of study hall saying, "I will drive to Milly-wau-kay."

Two others came along (Yoder and Peinert) for our little rust belt excursion. The four of us got to Milwaukee in record time. There were about five minutes when the mini-van wasn't going fast enough to activate the flux capacitor, slowing down because we missed an exit. It was during this time that Jay was pulled over for not using his turn signal while changing lanes. Oh Mr. State Trooper, if you only knew.

We drank beer in restaurants and smuggled booze into the show. We saw one of the best live acts of the 90's at their peak and yelled "F*** the USA Today" in a drunken show of punchless solidarity during "Not For You". We came back home and relived the trip over and over as the retellings got further and further from the actual truth. That was my first official (independent) adventure and something must have stuck.

Many more trips/quests/projects have followed. The next bigger and bolder than the last. Now here I am, 16 years to the day, embarking on my most challenging one yet. The way the excitement feels is the same and my curiosities still hold the reigns. For what seems to be the hundredth time I looked in the mirror this morning and said to myself "What the f*** have you gotten yourself into?" The only difference now is that a wry smile accompanies the end of the question.