The band Sloan was a big deal ten years ago, and everyone who was anyone was into them.  They were the band that never lived under a rock.  So, it was a big deal when my friend excitedly telephoned me to leave everything I was doing at home and rush downtown with him to get exclusive tickets to a taping of their interview and mini-concert at the television station.  This, as my friend knew, was exactly what I did.  I recall studying for a chemistry class since the pre-exam test was happening the next day.  I actually had habits like this, dropping studies and homework for fun my friends  were all into and doing.  Just to say, so that it is said, I actually failed that test and I think I had to make up the marks in summer school the coming summer break.

So, around dinner time I made it to the line-up, which was around the block already when I got there.  When I saw the length of the line, my first thought and feeling was disappointment as I was sure the studio was not as large to fit all of us into the audience.  My second thought was hope.  I immediately mentally hoped that my friend had made it down earlier and got in line much earlier.  Lucky us, both situations were true.

We happily greeted each other and hugged.  It was our common greeting.  Apparently, he had been there for more than an hour by the time we met up.  We became accountants and counted the waiting teenagers in front of us.  We felt that it would be a fifty-fifty chance of either getting in last or not getting in at all.  We crossed our fingers and tried to relax and calm down.  Who knew what the television people had in mind….  We had watched the show enough times to know that there could only be fifty in the audience. It was a small studio, meant to capture the intimacy of fans and their idols.  So, we were nervous and hopeful, and afraid of disappointment.  We talked little, but that was our habit.  We were good friends and were comfortable as friends.  Often the only reason why we would be around each other was to talk about music, to find a place to go hang out and dance (the city hall had Friday Night concerts outside in the Square where there was a beautiful shell-shaped stage), and to walk through the city looking for music stores and buying CD’s.  We could make a whole afternoon of four hours a trek through mid-town to downtown.  We would go home satisfied with purchases and hoping we didn’t make wrong purchases.  CD’s were still something of a precious purchase.  It was always fun to open up the case, after tearing off the plastic wrap, and looking through the booklet of art and dedications.  As well as listening to the whole album and trying ourselves to critique the songs as if we were professional music critics.

Well, the line started to move forward as the front doors of the building opened up.  It was actually happening!  The ushers and gophers were counting  us and determining who to let in.  I wondered if we would be lucky enough to see a producer!  It moved slowly, which kept our excitement up, but, it seemed everyone would be let in!

In about twenty minutes, we had inched our way to the doors.  There, was a woman, trendy but professional, with a clip board.  She looked at us and smiled, and then tore two strips from something attached to the clipboard, and handed one to each of us.  She explained that we should ring it around our wrists and keep it there to get into the taping of the show next weekend.

Excitedly, we walked off to the side, away from the front doors and the line-up.  I was so enamored with our next thing thing to do, that I almost put the wrist band on immediately.  It was paper, and would not have survived a week’s worth of showers.  My friend stopped me just as I was looking at the sticky part of the band and anticipating pulling off the paper and sticking the two ends of the wrist band together.

It was a school night, and since we had not had dinner, we debated whether we should spend another hour downtown, or, whether we should rush home?  One of the things I was chronically short of all the time, was pocket money, and an unexpected expenditure like dinner on a school night was going to make me poor as well as late for school the next morning as I would most likely sleep in.  We laughed, and decided to stop off for pizza, and then, go home.

The week went by quickly, and, perhaps because I was very excited, and my friend was too, it did not seem to drag.  It seemed that almost as soon as I had gotten the wrist band, the time came up that I had to put it on for the show.

As requested, we arrived an hour before the scheduled taping and, surprisingly, they did not open the doors until twenty minutes before the start of the show.  As this point, many ushers and gophers came out the open doors and moved us into the building.  First, we put our jackets and coats in a coat room….  There was no security and we were told to remember to take our coasts and jackets with a us afterwards.  Then we were ushered into a waiting area.  Here, there were a few benches and chairs, and as each group made its way into this room, a producer spoke to us and gave us general information and “rules of conduct” as well as a short information on what would happen and how long it would take.  The gist was that we would only be in the building for the hour of the taping and we would be expected to leave as soon as the taping was over.

This whole time, I was excited, and becoming more and more excited.  I smiled a lot at my friend.  We grinned at each other about how silly it all was.

Then, from the waiting room, we finally went through a short, darkened hallway which led into the studio, which was dimly lit for ambiance.  Here, ushers and gophers were everywhere.  The band would be in the middle and the audience would surround them, the instruments and the video jockey.  The lighting was warm, and seeing the band’s instruments made us excited and giddy.  My friend and I were directed to stand with three rows in front of us by the big “garage door” windows, which were open despite the coolish weather.

Without warning, the bands latest signature song began blaring….  Apparently, being excited and too distracted, I had missed the entrance of the band, despite the VJ’s intro and admonishments to welcome them.  “Money City Maniacs” opens with a siren and sudden guitar wailing.  I was surprised and in love!  My heart flew out of my chest and I screamed with the rest of the audience.  I think I remember jumping up and down and clapping my hands to add to the noise.

The rest of the show was just as exciting.  I had never been this close to a band, or to anyone famous before.  I thought that they were closer to God than I had ever thought anyone was.  Seeing them in actual size only increased my esteem of them…  Even though they were short at about 5’8″ and 5’10”.  They seemed to have some sort of supernatural power or exceptional genius that made them famous and revered and loved.  From that night on, I have never been able to look down on musicians of any type.  To be able to create a song….  from nothing but strings and electricity, amazes me.

I have lost touch with my friend.  I think he is now married and living in a small town….  But I have never forgotten that week and the night of the taping.  Even now, when my wrist band is lost, probably ruined with water in a dump site somewhere, my heart still jumps at the memory of “Money City Maniacs.”