Thursday, April 08, 2004
Wile E. Coyote, Super Genius
Driving home from the Bob Dylan show at the Norva. Quite disappointed.
An 8 1/2 x 11 inch sheet of green paper becomes law as you enter the Norva. "No Photos." Not that I saw it.
Usually it's on the ticket. "No Photos."
Not my ticket though.
What a good deal. Dylan's playing this intimate venue, and doesn't mind the cameras. Good deal. Guess those super models softened him up a bit, eh?
Oh, but it was him. I know it! He ratted me out! Not that I was even attempting to hide any wrong doing. I wasn't doing anything wrong in my mind. I looked, and I didn't see any notices anywhere.
I waited 4 hours to buy tickets. 58 dollars it cost me. I waited 2 hours the day of the show. It paid off too. I was center stage, with three old ladies, and a grey bearded hippie between me and him.
I had just bought a new digital camera. It didn't take very good pictures. There was plenty of light for my Nikon to handle this show. But this Canon just wasn't doing as good as I had hoped, and certainly not twice as expensive good. But it had this movie feature. With sound. Hey, these look pretty good. I'll just play around with these and hope the sound comes out o.k. Dylan doesn't mind that. Bootlegs are all over. Bootlegs made this guy.
The tap on my shoulder came late in the show. I would later realize this was the end of the last song, before the encore. Two security guards. "Come on. Go that way." Pointing toward the bar. Another joins in the fun. "Let me see that camera."
"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you"
"Good for you."
I'm escorted through the crowd. The most evil bastard who ever walked the earth. I wasn't trying to be sneaky. I was snapping pictures all day and night and never once tried to hide that camera. No, "put that away and don't let me see it again" stuff. Just "Come on. Go That Way" and I lose my primo spot I deserved. The spot I earned with pain in my boot heels, and a bladder ready to burst.
Someone touches my face. "There he is." And softly, gently places their hand on my cheek.
I'm outside now. Just like that. From front-center, to outside in an instant. Surfing the wake of Three Security guards.
A finger waves another black tshirt over. How many is that now? Four.
"Erase 'em all. Right now."
"How am I supposed to know there's no pictures."
"There's a sign on the door"
There it is. My fate. Sealed on the center of the interior door. A splotch of green on a sea of gawdy posters. "No Cameras"
I fumble my way with the unfamiliar camera.
"You guys go on, I'll handle this" And the Big One sends his buddies back inside.
I show him the screen. "Erase All." I hit enter and watch him analyze the progress bar. Tick, Tick, Tick. All my fun, and no way to prove it. All Gone.
"Take it out to your car and I'll let you back in"
"Take it out to my car!!!"
"Take it out, I'll let you back in. Hurry up and you won't miss much."
Sprinting back across Monticello Ave, I see the encore. Is that wrinkled spec up there...Is that Dylan?
See how disappointed I am driving home (up there ^)?
Well, Well, Well! Turns out the jokes on... well me. Because if I didn't take that picture, I probably would of recovered every file! Alas, I couldn't get them all. But, oh, I did have video of me getting kicked out. Yeah, that's what I said. Here is the video of the second to the last song, "It Ain't Me Babe." You can hear just how awful poor Dylan's voice has become, but how tight his band is. You can hear me sing along a bit around 1:20. The movie is a little choppy because the movies are only 3 minutes long, so there are a few quick breaks, but they're not that noticeable. You'll see at the end where the security guy grabs my arm and the camera goes black because I put it by my side as I was walking out. The security guy's voice is really mumbled, but you can hear him.
UPDATED May 27:
I've got more too, but I won't post 'em here. I don't have enough web space. But I got most of them back. Listen to this man, He is so right on. I am the man. And I stuck it to the man, didn't I?
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