I’ve lived in San Diego for almost three and a half years, but I hardly know this place. Really, truly. It’s kind of embarrassing. Ocean Beach is my home, and I don’t get out much, or if I do, it’s to other places besides San Diego. So it’s always a trip to go down to the Gaslamp District and see the madness there. A fully yuppified, trendified, and fake-tittified madness. People everywhere. A colorful, Baywatchesque glimpse of the American Dream. Scary.

Last night the Rolling Stones played at Petco Park, and I got tickets when they first went on sale a gazillion years ago. Why? Why did I buy tickets to this show? It’s not really my thang anymore, these huge concerts. Before I turned 21 and could get into clubs, maybe it was. Still, I bought the tickets and last night, me and Keith, Andy, Brian and Mark (from this point known as KAMB) headed downtown.

First, we all met at the Vine at a very early hour. The guys seemed to be on a mission to see how fast one of them could turn sixteen again. They were really putting them away and the flowage didn’t stop there. Somehow, we got a cab on Niagara Avenue after numerous calls to various cab companies all telling us, basically, to fuck off because there were never going to be any cabs in OB on this insane Friday night. Once downtown, we had to go to Yuppified Central – the Yardhouse Bar & Grille. As soon as I stepped inside that place I was like DUDES, GET ME OUT OF HERE. I must have been making some serious faces because Mark told me to chill out. But it was horrible. I guess that place might be OK on a Tuesday night when you absolutely must have some onion rings, but on a Friday – blech.

Thanks god Brian and Andy led me out of there and to a bar two doors down called The Local. Now that place, despite it’s lack of decent wine, was my kind of place. How is it that I have lived here so long and The Local wasn’t even a blip on my radar? I felt I had found the Promised Land after a long (10 minutes) stint in Hell. Then the real drinking began. Absolute Mandarin and Soda, one after the other, appeared in front of me, and by the time we left there, I was feeling a little loopy. Yes, you can be a drunken sixteen year old again. If you believe.

At some point the guys we met up with at the Yardhouse showed up, and when we all left the plan was to go to Petco immediately. Only, some of us were in no hurry (like me, it was only 7:00 for fuck’s sake) so we ended up going to an expensive steakhouse where a friend of KAMB’s works. A snotty blond hostess told us the lounge was full, but clearly she didn’t know she was talking to four veterans of the San Diego restaurant scene with something like 107 years of experience between them. Keith had a word with someone backstage, and within seconds we were past the snotty hostess and into the lounge, which was NOT full. There were some pretty freaky people in there though, go into any trendy steakhouse lounge near a venue featuring the Rolling Stones and you will see exactly what I am talking about.

So, I ordered up another Absolute Mandarin and Soda, but the bartendress gave me something pink. So, I said NO. ABSOLUTE MANDARIN AND SODA. This time I watched her as she made me a fat, perfect drink but then proceeded to pour a shot of Cranberry Juice in. Huh? Not wanting to make waves twice, I tried to drink the drink, but after drinking half of it the sweetness got to me. Another bartender was standing there, so I asked for an ABSOLUTE MANDARIN AND SODA, NO CRANBERRY JUICE PLEASE. I wasn’t asking for a free drink, but I think homie was accustomed to these mistakes and he pushed my money away. The bartender who made me the wrong drink twice gave me a look. Oh well.

So, eventually we made it to Petco, and I was happy that from our seats we could actually see the stage, as I had purchased the cheapest seats (to the tune of $80 each) flush with stage right. Plus, there was a video screen facing us, so the partially blind and/or enebriated could see things a little closer if they couldn’t focus on the stage.

What can I say? I am glad I paid too much for the experience. The Rolling Stones were predictable, but fun. Everyone makes fun of them about their ages, but I hope that when I am sixty something I am doing something cool. As I looked down on a sea of heads, and I mean a SEA, I was happy to know that next week I will be seeing two shows where I can actually see the faces of the performers. This show was obviously a “destination” for a lot of people, and the Stones did not disappoint. There was a massive stage, with some crazy Vegasy curliques and many levels, and there were pyrotechnics, and lots of Mick Jagger strut action. A ticket for the last Coldplay show was eighty bucks, and I reckon a lot of the people that went to that show, were at this show. At least with the Stones, for eighty bucks you got fireworks included. Also, a memory, because that pre-show party action was pretty memorable, for lots more than I have described here. I have to be somewhat cautious, to protect the guilty. Now I am going to eat some tofu with spinach and peanut sauce and get some sleep, because tomorrow is my first meeting with my baby nephew Ryan. Ryan, who will someday accompany me to a sold out Spoon show at Petco Park. Yeah, right. Well, maybe.

This entry was posted on Saturday, November 12th, 2005 at 4:56 pm and is filed under Adventures in Rock and Roll. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.