Pearl Jam at Fenway 9/02/18

That Pearl Jam concert at Fenway last night was pretty damn fun. My wife and I started the night by meeting another couple for dinner and drinks. Then we walked over to the ballpark, and ran into some of the longest entry lines I've ever seen. The crowd was pretty mellow though. Everybody looked pretty old. Wait. I'm that old too? Yep.

It's about 80 degrees when we enter Fenway and walk up the cement stadium ramps. We go towards the very top seats, and stop to grab a couple of beers. That's a 16oz can of Harpoon IPA for $12. You could get a $12 Gansett pint if you want, but IPA's ABV is a better deal. The line is long though, so I'm double-fisting. Writing prices for beer? Yep. Old.

The beer is cold, and the four of us are feeling pretty good by now. We're ready to sit down and enjoy the show. We find an usher who points us to our $85 seats. But wait. We get closer and realize our row is roped off. Our seats are closed. The usher management team is here too, with walkie-talkies and an explanation. There is a huge spotlight located directly behind our seats, so we can't sit here, and we'll have to sit somewhere else. How's turf seats sound? You mean way, way down there? Hell, yeah! But, no, sorry, we only have two turf seats. You guys want to split up? Oh, hell no.

The conversation goes on for a while. There's even some talk of us trading tickets with some complete strangers, just so our foursome can stay together up here. What? No way. I heard "turf," so we should all four get turf. Our complaints grow louder and we're directed to a customer service center down by Pesky's Pole. It's a huge hike through some curvy Fenway dead-end/add-on architecture, but we find the usher headquarters. The head lady nods and reaches into her pocket. She deals out four aces. We score turf level seats. Yes! It's happening! We're all smiles now.

This is a thousand-dollar ticket, and our grins get bigger as we walk closer, and closer, and closer to the stage. We are in the 15th row. These seats are amazing. We look up in awe. We take pictures. We text our closest friends and brag. This is it. Best seats ever.

The sun drops out of sight and Peal Jam saunters onto the stage. They open with Release, and I'm howling the lyrics. I grew up listening to this band, and that tween joy comes up from somewhere deep down in my gut. I've never seen them live. I'm long overdue. I can't stop smiling. I'm dancing. We're all happy as hell.

And so is the band. Pearl Jam has that grunge reputation of being broody, or too serious, but that is not the case here. Vedder is cracking jokes. He does a whole stand-up routine about the hundred different uses of the F-word. His democrat statements are lost down here in the rich seats, but I can hear a roar of approval from the upper deck.

It's a faint roar though. You can't really hear anything that goes on way up there. Even when the awesome encore ends hours later, the turf seats seem so quiet. I know the upper deck was screaming for more, but it's all just a dull "hush" sound.

I've been to many concerts, and I can now say that I've sat everywhere. This Fenway visit will be one I'll never forget. Pearl Jam played the classics. Even Flow. Once. Alive. And my wife's favorite, Black. They mixed in some decent new stuff too. Covered Tom Petty and Neil Young. I had a blast.

But the set list hides from memory. And the beer prices too, definitely. Maybe I'll remember the four of us, hurrying down to customer service, with a pint of beer in each hand, trying to race the sunset. It's unpredictable what gets remembered. Like the song says,"Hearts and thoughts they fade away." I did howl that line out as "hearts and farts" though. Really. Who didn't?