Stunned

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Stunned.

It’s one of those words you don’t use at a Jimmy Buffett concert, as in, “I was stunned at the Jimmy Buffett concert. Please pass the croissant.” Then again, I guess you could use it, as in, “As I was running away, the police ran out of rubber bullets, so they used their stun guns.”

The October 3, 2009 U2 concert was a different type of ‘stunned.’ I woke up this morning wanting to put it into some words, but the words weren’t falling trippingly off the tongue. Or trippingly anywhere else.

I could talk about the good company. We tailgated, something I haven’t done since, well, never. Good friends. Good beer. Good finger foods. Good times. And I’m still wondering how anyone can drink something so medicinally smelling as a Jägerbomb. But, hey, if they have the same sinus issues I have, then it can’t be that hard.

The 'people watching' was pretty cool. You’re never too far away from someone who looks interesting. And you're often not far away from someone doing something interesting. Though most were grillin’ and chillin’, some sat in their cars reading books, while others waited on the hoods of their cars. The social and the not-so-social all socializing together in a weird massive smokey barbecue waltz.

Then there was the humanity at the gate. Lots of people intent on one of two purposes: making a beeline to the restrooms and/or finding a souvenir for less than 10 bucks. Either way, it was “Good luck, friend.”

Now I can certainly talk about the seats, which were amazing. You could see just about everything you wanted to see. I did find out that my camera bites in low light, so the next concert will require an upgraded purchase from my current Canon.

And here’s where I get stuck with the word ‘stunned.’ When the smoke started to rise from the ‘spaceship,’ the planet disappeared. I experienced lost time. The sounds and sights were amazing, and the only words that escaped my lips were the lyrics to all the U2 songs I knew. It was like an X-Files episode, and I was standing alone in a forest of over 50,000 people. Lots of lights. Lots of surprises. Levitation appeared to be an option. I half expected to see the Smoking Man dancing beside me, his Morley hanging precariously from his lip. No such luck, though the guy beside me was probably an alien.

Naomi melted a few times. Just plain melted. When they played One, I could feel the gooseflesh spring from her arms and seize my arms. And her neck, though made of flesh and bone, seemed to move in such a manner that could only be characterized as rubbery. I think she swooned once when she believed Bono made eye contact with her...from fifty yards away.

Bono’s pushing fifty, and so am I. But I know I could not prance about, hit high notes, jog with a kid, and be so entertaining for two hours. Two hours. Lord forgive me, but after two hours of anything I’m ready for a nap. Even if I’ve been napping for two hours.

These guys have been prancing away for thirty years. And it was the best show I’ve every seen. Easily. And even Larry Mullens walked. And I do believe he SKIPPED once or twice. After 30 years behind the drum kit, he moved around the 360 stage with his conga, which blows that theory that he’s been shackled back there for thirty years.

It was certainly special, and though the words prior to these are somewhat descriptive, I still find ‘stunned’ is the best descriptor. Even now, I’m recalling all of the visual, aural, and other sensory memories from last night. Amazing. Yep.

I was certainly stunned.
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