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| The Pier at Jenkinson's. |
I've checked into my motel: Amethyst's Beach Hotel. A fifties' throwback, it's U shaped with the rooms opening onto the pool courtyard and the second story balcony. The kind you see in the movies. I always need to check things out in advance so off to the boardwalk I go. I can't believe it but people are lining up for tomorrow's concert already. It's only 4:30. There are only about 25 people there though so I'm not worried. Inside Jenkinson's I order a slice and a diet and ask about the concert. It turns out it's inside in the bar/club which surprises me--I don't think it's that big. But no, I'm assured it holds 2000 people. I'm glad; it's windy and chilly down here with the potential for more rain.
I have to buy a sweatshirt--actually two--because I've realized I did not pack the right clothes for waiting up all night in the cold and damp. A beach towel too in case I need to sit on the boardwalk. Also fudge. Boardwalk fudge is the best. I may not be prepared in my packing but my midnight snack is taken care of.
Back to the motel to charge electonics and pack a tote bag for the wait. When I arrive back around 9 PM, there are more people in line and tents. People have brought tents! The Sheerios (Ed Sheeran fans) are serious! (I think I called them sherious in a tweet.) There's a bench in front of Martels that looks like a good spot and I won't have to sit on the boards. Soon I'm joined by three young girls dressed not warmly enough in garbage bags. They are here, of course, for Ed. Are you? they ask. No, I reply with an indulgent smile, thinking, isn't it obvious? Soon they are curled up together, huddled for warmth, like puppies. They were very sweet. Not all the Sheerios are so polite. Lots are running up and down and are loud, attention-seeking girls on a mission: to be at the front of the venue.
I pass the time reading and scribbling notes on a napkin so I can better remember the things I want to say here. The surf is really loud and even though the beach is wide and far from where I'm sitting the strong breeze carries sprays of the ocean in my direction once in a while. I'm a sight ... two hoodies and my camping jacket with the beach towel wrapped around my legs. The cute dress and sandals I'd packed are out of the question under these circumstances. Around midnight I break out the fudge: chocolate caramel with sea salt. There is no way to calculate weight watchers points for this.
Interns from WPLJ come out from time to time with freebies for the crowd. Sun glasses and posters and the like. And they are filming the activity on the boardwalk for their web site. Lots of the young fans are interviewed.
Lots of people are going in and out of the Tiki Bar at Martels, where I'm sitting. They go in asking questions of the people camped all around. They come out loud and boisterous. I especially enjoyed the guy who gave us a decent rendition of Gavin DeGraw's I Don't Want to Be. At one point I think I see Justin Schiada, a technician with Gavin's band, go in but I don't have the nerve to say hello. No nerve to say hello but enough nerve to sit outside in the cold, wet night amongst people forty years younger than me. I am my own study in contrasts.
I want to conserve my phone battery but I can't resist checking facebook and twitter from time to time. I felt a little thrill reading DJ Ralphie Aversa's tweet about Gavin's new single. If the label (RCA) is releasing it to radio stations to preview, that means the actual release is coming soon. Relatively soon. After the single drops, the album release will be imminent. Relatively imminent. According to "Gavin time." And Ralphie retweets my Sheerios are sherious tweet. Geez, I'm easily amused.
Around 2 AM the bright lights start going out. The bars are closing and our colorful night lights are extinguished. Except for the leering neon clown at the Fun House games place. He and I have been staring at each other all night. Creepy dude. There are no stars tonight as it's been overcast all day and night. It's not raining though, so I'm grateful. People are sleeping. Some brought chaise lounges; some are in their tents; on benches and under benches. The girls behind me are under a tarp on a bench.
Gavin has tweeted a little. He's at the Ranger game. I'm on a bench in the cold and he's at the Ranger game. I should be in therapy. Wait--this is my therapy. Around 3:15 or so he tweets Ralphie that he's still in New York. Really? You're going on in less than three hours, I think. And I'm still on this bench!
Courtney arrives around 3:30 so I'm no longer alone nor the only non- tween-to twenty-something on the boardwalk. Well, I wasn't the only one. Lots of the Sheerios had parents hanging out. They sit apart from their kids so as not to embarrass them.
Around 4:00 we hear a thundering noise on the boardwalk. It's Ed Sheeran fans from the end of the long line (the line had extended past the carnival rides) charging up to the front. Apparently they are completely unconcerned by the common concert courtesies like respecting the line. Annoyed, we all join the line and it starts to rain. I wonder if Ed knows a lot of his young fans are rude. He seems like a nice guy so I'm sure he'd rather that they behave better.
Every so often the crowd surges forward. The line gets wider and wider and there is pushing and I think, seriously, you are totally too old for this. Where I had been about the 105th person in line (the garbage bag girls had counted), there were now hundreds of people in front of us. The pushing gets a little serious and the thought of being trampled by the Sheerios enters my mind. Clearly I'm too old for this.
Around 5:30, the doors open and we're in. No where near the front. The stay-up-all-night plan is a fail.
Interns from WPLJ come out from time to time with freebies for the crowd. Sun glasses and posters and the like. And they are filming the activity on the boardwalk for their web site. Lots of the young fans are interviewed.
Lots of people are going in and out of the Tiki Bar at Martels, where I'm sitting. They go in asking questions of the people camped all around. They come out loud and boisterous. I especially enjoyed the guy who gave us a decent rendition of Gavin DeGraw's I Don't Want to Be. At one point I think I see Justin Schiada, a technician with Gavin's band, go in but I don't have the nerve to say hello. No nerve to say hello but enough nerve to sit outside in the cold, wet night amongst people forty years younger than me. I am my own study in contrasts.
I want to conserve my phone battery but I can't resist checking facebook and twitter from time to time. I felt a little thrill reading DJ Ralphie Aversa's tweet about Gavin's new single. If the label (RCA) is releasing it to radio stations to preview, that means the actual release is coming soon. Relatively soon. After the single drops, the album release will be imminent. Relatively imminent. According to "Gavin time." And Ralphie retweets my Sheerios are sherious tweet. Geez, I'm easily amused.
Around 2 AM the bright lights start going out. The bars are closing and our colorful night lights are extinguished. Except for the leering neon clown at the Fun House games place. He and I have been staring at each other all night. Creepy dude. There are no stars tonight as it's been overcast all day and night. It's not raining though, so I'm grateful. People are sleeping. Some brought chaise lounges; some are in their tents; on benches and under benches. The girls behind me are under a tarp on a bench.
Gavin has tweeted a little. He's at the Ranger game. I'm on a bench in the cold and he's at the Ranger game. I should be in therapy. Wait--this is my therapy. Around 3:15 or so he tweets Ralphie that he's still in New York. Really? You're going on in less than three hours, I think. And I'm still on this bench!
Courtney arrives around 3:30 so I'm no longer alone nor the only non- tween-to twenty-something on the boardwalk. Well, I wasn't the only one. Lots of the Sheerios had parents hanging out. They sit apart from their kids so as not to embarrass them.
Around 4:00 we hear a thundering noise on the boardwalk. It's Ed Sheeran fans from the end of the long line (the line had extended past the carnival rides) charging up to the front. Apparently they are completely unconcerned by the common concert courtesies like respecting the line. Annoyed, we all join the line and it starts to rain. I wonder if Ed knows a lot of his young fans are rude. He seems like a nice guy so I'm sure he'd rather that they behave better.Every so often the crowd surges forward. The line gets wider and wider and there is pushing and I think, seriously, you are totally too old for this. Where I had been about the 105th person in line (the garbage bag girls had counted), there were now hundreds of people in front of us. The pushing gets a little serious and the thought of being trampled by the Sheerios enters my mind. Clearly I'm too old for this.
Around 5:30, the doors open and we're in. No where near the front. The stay-up-all-night plan is a fail.
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