@ZackTeibloom By my 7th Girl Talk show, it’s getting to be like the moon.* Let me explain. In Mr. Show there’s a skit where they decide to blow up the moon, because they’ve done everything else there is to do with it. As they say, “I walked on the moon, I did a push-up, ate an egg on it, what else can you do on?” That’s why I had to stage dive at Girl Talk. I’ve done everything else.
I danced on stage at Girl Talk. I dove head first in the mud at Girl Talk.** I tripped and compared Girl Talk to a Jonas Brothers show (and masturbating). I reviewed Girl Talk’s album using just song titles. I talked to Girl Talk about sex on stage. There was only one thing left to do.I woke up with that festival feeling on Saturday. The kind of morning that starts with two extra spicy tequila bloody mary’s. The kind of morning you feel you need to suit up for. I donned my festival uniform: Red and white White Stripes hunting socks, my red and white “Happiness is Sharing” t-shirt, a red and white headband and red and white sunglasses. I re-read my old Girl Talk issue of College News. I got day drunk. I played rock band at the Light House. It was on.
After waiting through a low-key White Denim set which was enjoyable, but not the right fit to get the crowd properly hyped, my crew and I got settled three rows away to the right by the stone staircase that leads up to the stage. It was guarded by what looked like three puny students (who probably volunteered for security so they could be close to the stage) and a short asian woman in a security uniform. Please. We all could have easily crashed the stage with a simple charge, but I was the only one who desperately wanted to be there. Also, we were hearing that only pre-selected people were getting on stage (not that it would have stopped me. I was content to dance from where we were. For an hour or so.
It was “on once again, Patron once again.” Girl Talk put on his usual fantastic show under the tower at 40 Acres Fest. Giant glowing balloons, a sweaty Gillis surrounded by throngs of co-eds around him, nodding his head, pumping the best mash-ups. Mixing new stuff in, throwing down old stuff. It doesn’t get old. The Snoop/Miley mash-up in this video was particularly inspired, but like the songs themselves, the mash-ups from last night all blur together in my head.
All I really remember clearly is charging the stage and diving off it. Like I said, I needed to be on stage. I didn’t even intend on stage diving. That just happened because of the circumstances. I waited until none of the “security” was looking at me and ran right through them like I was Chris Johnson and they were the Bears ’09 defense.*** I think I made a spin move and weaved right through them. Once on stage, I just kept running. I should have mixed in with the crowd on stage, but for once I had no interest in dancing with any girls on stage and I saw a speaker on the other side of the stage that needed me dancing on it.
I ran to it and danced for about 30 seconds and sensed security getting closer and decided I had to jump. I tried to do the trick of pointing to the crowd to come together and alert them that I was diving, but it wasn’t gonna happen. Unless the crowd is so packed together that they’re uncomfortable, they won’t catch you. Unless you’re in a band. And even if you are, they still might let you fall. Just ask Method Man.
I lept and fell. Hard. No one made an attempt to catch me. I got up, dusted myself off and felt a hand on my back. Security came after me into the crowd and had me by the collar. I tried to duck away, having flashbacks to when I was almost kicked out of Lolla ’07 for crashing the Flaming Lips’ photo pit, but unlike that time, I was unable to escape. They tore my shirt and dragged me away. It was a free show, so I just walked right back to where I was, but there were consequences.
I lost a new pair of sunglasses and a headband. I have a bunch of cuts and bruises I can’t quite explain and I ruined one of my all-time favorite t-shirts. My fingers feel arthritic. Even on what used to be my good hand. Was it worth it? I’m honestly not sure. I just know it had to be done. I wasn’t gonna blow it up.
*Why have I been so fascinated with the moon lately? I recently spent a good twenty minutes polling people at a party to determine what % full the moon was on that evening.
**OK I didn’t dive head first, but I got other people to.
***Shore just read that and got angry. I bet Jason Taylor goes to the Jets as karma for that. Damn it.
Photo by Carlye Wisel. And it’s not from this show.