SPEAK
BACK- STAGE PASS
Fueled by nostalgia and peer pressure, I broke into the VIP area of my dream concert // LESLIE KINSMAN
last September, I was sitting in Spanish class, bumming about how I wasn't going to be able to go to Beach Ball, a concert Kansas City radio station 96.5 The Buzz throws every year. Last year, it
was at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Bonner Springs. I did not have the money to go consequently missing out on a much-needed dose of nostalgia. Not only was Blink-182 headlining the show that night, Weezer and Taking Back Sunday were playing as well. I'd been a loyal fan to all three of the bands since I was in middle school and had never gotten a chance to see any of them perform.
Contributed photo
I was finishing up my last class of the day, when I noticed a text from my roommate. "We're going to Blink."
I picked her up at the Union later that afternoon. As she entered the car, an impressive grin spread across her face as she handed me a warm, newly laminated pass. "Are we really going to do this?" I asked. "We might as well try," she said. "What's the worst thing that could happen?" And with a shrug, I accepted her dare.
The nerves wouldn't set in until later that night. My roommate was always the instigator — resourceful, ruthless and bold. This wasn't the first time I had submitted to one of her plans.
"What do you mean, we're going to Blink?" I asked. "Pick me up at the Union after your class and I'll explain," she said.
Apparently, while I was on campus all day, she was busy creating phony VIP passes for us. She found a photo from a local DJ's Twitter page, who had posted a snapshot of herself sporting her VIP pass for the show that night. My roommate took the photo from the internet and tweaked them in Photoshop, to where they looked almost identical to the DJ's pass.
Illicit access: Writer Leslie Krisman and her roommate taked this back-stage pass and managed to sneak into a VIF area of a Kansas City Bink-182 concert last year.
We hit the road and arrived at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater about an hour later. The sun was setting and we could already feel the energy from the crowd. We hurried through the parking lot and tested our passes at the front gate: Piece of cake. Next we moved to the private seating section and made it through effortlessly. Each event worker let us through after inspecting our passes, either convinced enough by them or too indifferent to inspect them more thoroughly. One guard even offered us VIP wristbands. "Why didn't you get these at the front gate?" he asked.
We strategically placed ourselves behind the crew members, not speaking a word to each other, communicating only with stealthy smirks and an occasional eye glance. I thought our presence alone was screaming "out of place" but we were able to watch Weezer's entire set, quietly tucked away in the corner of the side stage. Halfway through the set, I realized I hadn't even looked directly at the crowd yet, for fear of being spotted. I
We accepted the wristbands and gave each other glances of giddy excitement. We had made it past the guards. There was one obstacle left for us — the main stage.
We weaved our way through the front of the crowd, dodging crowd-surfers and pit-rioters as they danced to Taking Back Sunday, until we reached a staircase that led up to the front stage.
My roommate grabbed my hand and gave me a determined look that said, "We're doing this. It's now or never." With that, she marched up the steps and handed the security guard her VIP pass. In a glimpse, she was past the guard and looking back at me to make my move. I held my breath as I slowly stepped up the stairs. I tried my best to slow my breathing and maintain a vague expression. Just after he let my roommate pass, he gave me a nod in the direction of the stage. We had made it.
turned my body slightly and felt an overwhelming exhilaration from the crowd. It felt too good to be true. I was looking out at the thousands of people at the venue, knowing that I had pulled off getting backstage.
Weezer finished their show and left the stage. Suddenly everyone who occupied the stage was moving, so my roommate and I felt the need to look busy as well. We decided to seclude ourselves behind the 20 buses parked near the stage. We briskly walked behind the stage into the private parking lot off-limits to regular fans. Prior to this night, I had always been prohibited from this area by security guards and a 10-foot fence. We sat in anticipation on a piece of dewy grass in the dark, the moonlight illuminating the silver tour buses, until we heard the shrieks of the crowd about 30 minutes later. Blink-182 must have taken the stage.
My roommate and I discreetly found the same spot as earlier, while the band began playing "What's My Age Again." Blink-182 performed as if they hadn't aged a bit since they took the music scene a decade ago, bouncing up and down and screaming juvenile profanities into the roaring crowd. We noticed a couple of toddlers running around and were convinced they were one of the
band member's, I felt out of my element and a little invasive, but I knew I wasn't doing much harm. We were able to watch the first four songs until a security guard we hadn't seen before asked us for an additional pass besides the lanyard. Since we hadn't anticipated this wrinkle, my roommate and I gave in and made our way down the stairs back into the crowd of concert-goers.
Since my freshman year, I've been an accomplice to my friends in breaking the rules for the sake of music. We've tested authority, schmooed bartenders into staying open after last call and swooned "merch-boys" into meeting us at the bar next door after their show, all to make a face to-face connection and interact with bands we've grown to idolize over the years. And although we didn't get to meet Blink-182 or any of the bands that night, we got to experience the show from a different perspective than anyone in the crowd.
Out of all the shenanigans I've pulled with my friends during my college years, this was by far the biggest of all our antics. It was my biggest breach of concert authority, but that's not the point. Just the possibility that we might have met Blink-182 that night was the motivation behind our rebellion isn't that what rock 'n roll is all about?
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