I was over 200-miles withdrawn from tour. It was much needed. A cleaner sccene, with a cleaner vibe. No one was trying to sell me a gooball for a Sunday night lawn.
I did a quick, bike hot lap around the circuference of Fenway Park before posting outside my sister, Whitney's apartment accross the street from the park.
Fans in jubilation after a come-from-behind Sox victory on Independence Day against the Texas Rangers spilled out into the streets. This was a refreshing take for me. If you know me, you know I struggle with drugs. Before the aformentioned becomes the sub-hed in the Boston Globe, let me elaborate.
I struggle with people's rampant and binge-style drug use at Phish shows. It's never been my thing, and quite frankly, I hope that it never will be.
As I've discussed in previous posts, one must employ a certain degree of defense in their Phish fanhood. I'm a full believer that you can't truly like something unless you poke some fun at it.
I love Phish jokes as much as the next guy, but when it's genuinely someone's impression that the epicenter of Phish's circus is drug usage, I lose my cool.
Pot? Yes. That's everywhere in every scene. Overpriced beers? Duh. Flasks absorbed into a bodily orphice to get passed security? I've seen it. I often opt for the two-beer squeeze (two beers sandwhiched between your thighs--pays off to ride your bicycle everywhere...!)
Harder drugs such as blow (cocaine), K, acid, etc.? Sure, they're out there, but they don't often come to you. You must go to them. That is why I attempt to shed the nasty drug label that often rests next to Phish's musical lure.
I heard a story Thursday night in Brooklyn that truly spoke to me. The girl had no idea the deep meaning I took from it. In a true Long Island accent, she burst into story about how her boyfriend informed her he was bringing cocaine to the show they were about to attend.
She replied, "What do you think Trey (Anastasio, Phish frontman) would think of this?"
His face apparently morphed dramatically and as the story goes he agreed and renegued his promise to possess the white beast inside the spiritual land of Phish.
I've officially opened up years of potential dialogue with the last few lines. In December of 2006, two years removed from the band calling it quits, Anastasio was arrested on multiple felony drug charges in upstate NY. Long story short, he cleaned up his act and his life.
He credited his arresting officer with saving his life to this day. Some fans still joke that comment to this day. I have to turn the other ear to avoid going postal on them. Without his arrest, Anastasio may have died from his dependence of pills. My 44 shows would never have existed without his arrest. Frankly, most people making these types of statements would've never gotten the opportunity to see Phish without his indictment.
Phish took stage, clean, on March 6, 2009 in Hampton, Va., and hasn't looked back.
If you listen carefully, you can hear some of Anastasio's past lightly seasoned into some of their new material, joking mistakes, looking toward a bright future.
I, in no way want to cast the four members of this band as holy characters in the show of life. Their simply four men who play great music. Their music connects mysellf and others to a deeper meaning of life. They may serve as a catalyst of facilitator to spirituality for some, but surely aren't the pennicle.
Friday night in th middle of, "NICU," Anastasio belted out the lyrics, "Back on those days when my life was a haze." This song was in existence far before his drug problem, but as fans let out the usual roar of relation, I often wonder what goes through his mind during that three to five seconds.
He's been quoted in Rolling Stone as saying, "I fucking hate drugs. I really do."
I wonder if he can look back on his past in some degree of humor when lyrics like that pertrude his vocal chords?
This is no call to action. I'm not telling anyone to refrain from ingesting odd combinations of drugs with zero clue of how they will interact with our bodies. But maybe think about how grateful we are to all share in this experience. Respect is a two way street. The band respects us as fans, but is rampant drug abuse inside the confines of shows a way of respecting the band?
"We want you to be happy," they sing in "Joy."
Is it the music or the substance that makes you happy? Does one necessitate the other?
What would Trey think?
Portland, Maine calls. Maybe it's the lobster. It's probably Brian Prescott, one of my brother's from another mother who will play host to me for the ensuing few days. The road is slightly catching up with me---a scratchy throat and small yearning for a bed have me learning more and more about travel.
Phish tour rolls on though! I finally have booked my first hotel for the entire two weeks, Sunday night in Syracuse. I guess I feel like a grown up....?
Calls for tonight:
Stash
Tweezer
Mayyybeee a Mike's Groove.
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