Neil Young

I have been making a pretty serious effort at trying to remember my stories that I tell when I am out and about. Unfortunately, I am normally having a beer or two when I am telling these stories and by the next morning I forget what story I was telling. Last night I went to see Pearl Jam at Summerfest with my friend, Liz, and as we were walking down to the south gate I was telling her this story and I made note in my brain to tell this story to you on my blog. This story goes back to 2000 or 2001 I am guessing. It was after Summerfest, probably in August. I went down to the Marcus Amphitheater with my buddy Joe Magnusson to see Neil Young. Joe and I have a history of scalping tickets for shows. Bruce Springsteen, Neil Diamond, the Rolling Stones. And normally Joe and I work out a great deal with the scalpers for the show, our rule is to pay more for beer than we do for the show tickets. One this particular night there weren’t too many scalpers out and about and the pickings for tickets were slim. Joe and I were brain storming on figuring out a way to get into the show. As I said the concert was at the Marcus Amphitheater but the rest of the Summerfest grounds were closed. As we were looking for scalpers unsuccessfully, we were also scoping out the fence along the Summerfest grounds looking for a possible spot to jump the fence to get in. Obviously we didn’t look all that inconspicuous while we were doing this because after a couple minutes this guy comes along in a golf cart asking us what we are doing. We told him nothing, and then started asking him about the show and a little small talk. Then Joe says to the guy “Hey, how about you let us into the show? We will give you $5 a piece.” To which he replied, “I can’t do that, I am a supervisor.” Joe retorted, “Well if you are a supervisor then you can do it, because you have no one to answer to.” Nonetheless, the “supervisor” stuck to his guns and told us to watch ourselves then went about his business. Another 5 or 10 minutes pass, and Joe and I are beginning to think that we might not get into the show as available tickets continue to be hard to come by. Then the “supervisor” comes back with his golf cart. He pulls up next to Joe and me and says “$10 a piece and I will get you in.” Joe and I jump at this offer, at this point Joe and I were near the middle Summerfest entrance. The “supervisor” tells us to get on the back of the golf cart and then radios ahead to someone. We get to one of the gates along the fence and it opens up for us. Then we are cruising through the Summerfest grounds right up to the turnstiles of the Ampitheater. The “supervisor” radios ahead and they open up a gate right next to the turnstiles. We pull in just on the other side of fence and the golf cart stops. Joe and I jump off and pony up $10 each and give it to the “supervisor” right in front of everyone else walking into the show and then head on our way. If you know me and my concert going, you know that I have an old Lynard Skynard ticket that I continue to reuse and gets me down into the first 10 rows. Joe and I used that and I think as the show ended we were in the 20th row or so. It was an OK show, but the story of getting in was better than the actual show.