I saw you....with a ticketstub...in your hand

(For starters...all pics are from Phish.com....the fact that I am not there is the subject of this angst ridden post)

If some of you read me back last year, you would have read this. If not....know this....I was supposed to be here. I tried.....I really, really tried. I bought hotel tickets on spec....which means that I bought them....and if I did not get tickets...I wasted my money.









Well......my money was wasted.....I lost the money....I never got the tickets in the lottery which is Phish reunion 09'.





















I'm now sulking in a deeper funk than I was when OU lost to texas last year.....almost....but I think my readership (all 5 of you)......you get the point.





















Here is the first set.....I could of...should of....wanted to.....be there......I saw you.....with a ticketstub.....in your hand.....I saw you...........





















Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.......they opened up with 'Fluffhead'.......I'm not sure they've done that before....and I was to be there....with a friend(you know who you are)........for his bachelor party.......this is a bad dream..............but I am here.............in front of my messy desk and my crappy computer........on a Friday night.............wishing the ski season was not almost over.........I hate my job......the snow is melting...............Phish is reuniting without me................all is lost...............I am pathetic............the Phish show I am listening to right now sounds great...........this is the music I was listening to when I became awake to Phish for the first time.....not conscious of Phish..........but AWAKE.........It reminds me of 98' almost passed out on my couch in the slums of the University of Arizona at 2:30 in the afternoon between Geology classes.............barely conscious....I let a phish show get past me........I have to admit.....I never made it to the end of this show......but my lack of energy this day did me a favor.....it held me captive....but acutely aware of the absolute clarity of Page McConnell's piano notes of percussion within "The Squirming Coil" waking me from my hazy drift into dream land.....I am realizing for the first time a piece of art I've yet to experience......the beauty is like the first moment....observing a butterfly...in flight...when you are three years of age......the thing that makes a mark on you for the rest of your life........the kind of moment that you hold on to because it's the first you can remember when you look back at 30 years of age.....the kind of memory that you scour your brain for the earliest indication of independent thought......and all you find are half second snippets of emotion.....not scenes...........emotions.....that fill the void in between sepia pictures your parents give you........you are held hostage to.....but beholden to......the only visual interpretation of what you are feeling right now.......and just now.....you feel........the squirming coil.........it got away.........away.....it got away........So you hold on to it because you are scared that each time you forget........you become older.........

I was supposed to be there....but I did not try hard enough....I was supposed to be there.

• Set One
• Fluffhead
• Divided Sky
• Chalk Dust Torture
• Sample In A Jar
• Stash
• I Didn't Know
• Oh Kee Pah Ceremony >
• Suzy Greenberg
• Farmhouse
• NICU
• Horn
• Rift
• Train Song