| ~ One of the terrific perks about being a music promoter is that it's pretty much an automatic backstage pass. To be sure, sometimes I still have to pay to get in (i've only been at this for four months, gimme some slack), but no matter what I'm always "in" with the bands. This puts me in the rare position of being between the fans, who more often than not will idolize band members like they're demigods; and the band members themselves, who look in turn at the fans with a face that says "What in the world are you talking about? We're only here because you supported US so much!" Earlier on in college, I was the same way for a couple of bands, especially FLAW. One of my friends played their first CD for me when we were seniors in high school, and I was hooked straightaway. I never really imagined that I, some little Kentucky boy, would even get the chance to SEE them play. Then two weeks after I started at Otterbein, I was on the floor of the AlRosa like there was no tomorrow, singing my heart out. Saw them twice more before they broke up, and even then it never entered my mind that I could meet them in person. I mean, what the hell? These guys are f'n rockstars! Why in the world would they look at me like anything other than an insect? A couple of years later, Ivan Arnold from Five.Bolt.Main would look at me out behind the Agora in Cleveland, and tell me with utter conviction that Pop Tarts are a must-have when you're on the road. And one of the most incredible vocalists in the rock would would sprawl across my pool table, and hand me a setlist at the end of a terrific concert. A year after that, I would be on the stage of (InTheClear)'s CD release show, sporting an all-access season pass for their tour, helping them change their set up.  
Hindsight is always 20/20. But if you'd told me my senior year of high school that I would have done all that shit, I might have thrown a rubberband ball at you.  |
