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LJ Idol Week 10 - Synesthesia
Sep. 22nd, 2024 10:04 am90 Minutes to showtime.
"This traffic, man!" Even though he left with plenty of time before the concert it was taking forever to get to the venue. So many people driving in and the cops who were hired to keep things flowing just seemed to make even more of a mess at the intersections! Colin turned his blinker on, the entrance to Lot C finally in sight and rubbed his temples. He'd been feeling a headache coming on all day but he wasn't going to let that stop him. Waved in by the cop, he filed in, just one more ant marching in a long line of cars, grinning as he bumped off the pavement and drove across the gravel field.
"That kid just wants to play with his lightsabers" Colin thought, following the directions of the bored parking attendant pointing out spaces. He squeezed into his allotted spot and took a shaky breath. Alice Cooper! Dude, he was finally here! It had been 30 years since he saw the Godfather of Shock Rock live and there was no way he was going to miss him in Atlanta this year!
He had been 25 years old at that last show. The cinnamon smell of Big Red gum always took him back to that night, where he'd shaken his long hair to No More Mr. Nice Guy and decided, looking at his girlfriend Julie shaking her ass to Poison that he was gonna marry that fine girl and put some babies in her.
That brisk autumn night, sweaty and ecstatic, he thought he'd never miss another Cooper show, but then he had to save up for an engagement ring and pay for a wedding band and then surprise! he was gonna be a daddy at 28 and time marches on and 30 more years passed like a song. Then that damn pandemic happened and no one knew if they'd ever see a live show again. Back in 2020 he vowed, if the world got back to normal and Alice Cooper was ever live on stage, he'd be at the next show no matter what.
So here he was, tickets on his phone instead of squeezed tightly in his fist, but alone this time, because Jules always watched the grandbaby on Tuesdays while his daughter worked her nightshift at the hospital. His hair was a lot shorter and his belly a lot softer than it was back in 1994 but he was still able to squeeze into his faded Special Forces concert shirt he bought that awesome night.
60 minutes to showtime.
Hurrying to the gates, he was caught up in the excitement of the people around him. Guys in jeans and black tees, girls in fishnets and pleather, many sporting Cooper's signature thick and smeared eyeliner on their pale faces. Yeah, they were all quite a bit older and many had brought their own kids tonight but wrinkles and grey hair be damned, they were ready to rock out like it was 1994. It made him grin, even if his head was pounding a little now.
Colin made it through security with no problems and went to check out the merch. "Jesus Christ!" he thought. $50 for a band shirt?" but he had to get one so he could show the world that HE WAS THERE. He cracked open his wallet and pulled out some cash and felt a splash of irritation when the kid pointed to the Card Only sign. Luckily his daughter had showed him how to use ApplePay over the summer so he whipped out his phone like an expert and payed for the shirt. He squinted a little with his rising headache and threw back a couple Tylenol at a water fountain.
Twenty minutes to showtime.
He made his way to his seat. Gone were the days when he'd pay extra to stand in the pit, squeezed shoulder to shoulder with a frothing horde, rocking out with the other sweaty fans. A couple years ago, bursitis started messed with his hip when he stood for too long so he definitely wanted a place to sit for the slow songs.
Ten minutes to showtime.
"Hey, I think you're in my seat..." After booting the dirtbag couple who had snuck into his section and sending them back to the lawn, he got situated and took in the scene. His seat was good, even if he wasn't right down front - those orchestra seats were way too spendy with retirement in the not too distant future. But, seated mid-center, he had a great view of the stage, currently covered with a massive black curtain. "What's going on back there?" he wondered, watching flashes of light flare up. Roadies and techies occasionally hurried out for last minute adjustments. Even with the headache, his heart rate was rising because it was nearly...
Showtime!
The opening notes to Feed My Frankenstein rang through the arena. Colin reached to his pocket for the earplugs his wife insisted he bring but then thought "Fuck It!" He wanted to experience the show in the all its insistent, eardrum-damaging glory even if it did make his head feel like it was about to split open. The crowd roared and his heart raced as the massive black curtain was released and fell to the floor. Center stage stood a pirate-clad Alice Cooper, holding a mic and a sword. The jumbotrons showed closeups of the band and their monstrous lead singer in all his melted-face glory. "Damn, dude's looking OLD...but I guess, so am I," Colin laughed with the man on his right.
When Cooper sang the words "Feed My Frankenstein" and the lights flashed Colin screamed maniacally with the rest of the audience but then grimaced when the flashing cut through his optic nerves like a knife to his brain. Was this a migraine? The pain grew and grew till it exploded in a thousand stars then suddenly stopped. Euphoria spread through Colin's entire body. As Cooper belted out "Well I ain't evil, I'm just good lookin" and the notes poured from the guitars onstage, a red haze spread from Cooper through the arena and Colin glanced around him wondering if anyone else was seeing this crazy shit.
"Feed my Frankenstein, meet my libido!" When Cooper rolled into the chorus, the red haze swirled and took on blue tones that stretched from the stage out over the roiling bodies in the pit and seemed to reach toward Colin. This was like that one time he tried shrooms with his buddy on a camping trip in college except he was pretty sure Tylenol was not going to get you there like this!
Colin's face began to droop and he felt a numbness run down his left arm. What the hell?
He slowly sat down, dropping heavily onto the plastic seat. Cooper howled "Bring you to a simmer right on time, run my greasy fingers up your greasy spine" and the blue mist that coated the concert before Colin like color grading in a film became deeper, muddy purple like a bruise.
As a giant Frankenstein puppet meandered onstage, Colin's right eye shifted back and forth rapidly, panic overtaking him. Now his left leg was numb. He tried to wiggle his toes and felt nothing, tried to call out the the man beside him but his mouth wouldn't move. Jesus, what was wrong with him? Cooper sang "You don't wanna talk, so baby shut up," and the mist above the crowd became a black thing hurtling toward him alone.
With a flash, brighter than the stage lights, brighter than than the screens projecting Cooper's red stained lips, the black mist pummeled into him, straight into his head like a railroad spike to the brain. The concert went completely silent. The smell of Big Red gum filled his senses. Colin slumped in his seat, his collapse unnoticed by the fans on their feet cheering and singing all around him.
"This traffic, man!" Even though he left with plenty of time before the concert it was taking forever to get to the venue. So many people driving in and the cops who were hired to keep things flowing just seemed to make even more of a mess at the intersections! Colin turned his blinker on, the entrance to Lot C finally in sight and rubbed his temples. He'd been feeling a headache coming on all day but he wasn't going to let that stop him. Waved in by the cop, he filed in, just one more ant marching in a long line of cars, grinning as he bumped off the pavement and drove across the gravel field.
"That kid just wants to play with his lightsabers" Colin thought, following the directions of the bored parking attendant pointing out spaces. He squeezed into his allotted spot and took a shaky breath. Alice Cooper! Dude, he was finally here! It had been 30 years since he saw the Godfather of Shock Rock live and there was no way he was going to miss him in Atlanta this year!
He had been 25 years old at that last show. The cinnamon smell of Big Red gum always took him back to that night, where he'd shaken his long hair to No More Mr. Nice Guy and decided, looking at his girlfriend Julie shaking her ass to Poison that he was gonna marry that fine girl and put some babies in her.
That brisk autumn night, sweaty and ecstatic, he thought he'd never miss another Cooper show, but then he had to save up for an engagement ring and pay for a wedding band and then surprise! he was gonna be a daddy at 28 and time marches on and 30 more years passed like a song. Then that damn pandemic happened and no one knew if they'd ever see a live show again. Back in 2020 he vowed, if the world got back to normal and Alice Cooper was ever live on stage, he'd be at the next show no matter what.
So here he was, tickets on his phone instead of squeezed tightly in his fist, but alone this time, because Jules always watched the grandbaby on Tuesdays while his daughter worked her nightshift at the hospital. His hair was a lot shorter and his belly a lot softer than it was back in 1994 but he was still able to squeeze into his faded Special Forces concert shirt he bought that awesome night.
60 minutes to showtime.
Hurrying to the gates, he was caught up in the excitement of the people around him. Guys in jeans and black tees, girls in fishnets and pleather, many sporting Cooper's signature thick and smeared eyeliner on their pale faces. Yeah, they were all quite a bit older and many had brought their own kids tonight but wrinkles and grey hair be damned, they were ready to rock out like it was 1994. It made him grin, even if his head was pounding a little now.
Colin made it through security with no problems and went to check out the merch. "Jesus Christ!" he thought. $50 for a band shirt?" but he had to get one so he could show the world that HE WAS THERE. He cracked open his wallet and pulled out some cash and felt a splash of irritation when the kid pointed to the Card Only sign. Luckily his daughter had showed him how to use ApplePay over the summer so he whipped out his phone like an expert and payed for the shirt. He squinted a little with his rising headache and threw back a couple Tylenol at a water fountain.
Twenty minutes to showtime.
He made his way to his seat. Gone were the days when he'd pay extra to stand in the pit, squeezed shoulder to shoulder with a frothing horde, rocking out with the other sweaty fans. A couple years ago, bursitis started messed with his hip when he stood for too long so he definitely wanted a place to sit for the slow songs.
Ten minutes to showtime.
"Hey, I think you're in my seat..." After booting the dirtbag couple who had snuck into his section and sending them back to the lawn, he got situated and took in the scene. His seat was good, even if he wasn't right down front - those orchestra seats were way too spendy with retirement in the not too distant future. But, seated mid-center, he had a great view of the stage, currently covered with a massive black curtain. "What's going on back there?" he wondered, watching flashes of light flare up. Roadies and techies occasionally hurried out for last minute adjustments. Even with the headache, his heart rate was rising because it was nearly...
Showtime!
The opening notes to Feed My Frankenstein rang through the arena. Colin reached to his pocket for the earplugs his wife insisted he bring but then thought "Fuck It!" He wanted to experience the show in the all its insistent, eardrum-damaging glory even if it did make his head feel like it was about to split open. The crowd roared and his heart raced as the massive black curtain was released and fell to the floor. Center stage stood a pirate-clad Alice Cooper, holding a mic and a sword. The jumbotrons showed closeups of the band and their monstrous lead singer in all his melted-face glory. "Damn, dude's looking OLD...but I guess, so am I," Colin laughed with the man on his right.
When Cooper sang the words "Feed My Frankenstein" and the lights flashed Colin screamed maniacally with the rest of the audience but then grimaced when the flashing cut through his optic nerves like a knife to his brain. Was this a migraine? The pain grew and grew till it exploded in a thousand stars then suddenly stopped. Euphoria spread through Colin's entire body. As Cooper belted out "Well I ain't evil, I'm just good lookin" and the notes poured from the guitars onstage, a red haze spread from Cooper through the arena and Colin glanced around him wondering if anyone else was seeing this crazy shit.
"Feed my Frankenstein, meet my libido!" When Cooper rolled into the chorus, the red haze swirled and took on blue tones that stretched from the stage out over the roiling bodies in the pit and seemed to reach toward Colin. This was like that one time he tried shrooms with his buddy on a camping trip in college except he was pretty sure Tylenol was not going to get you there like this!
Colin's face began to droop and he felt a numbness run down his left arm. What the hell?
He slowly sat down, dropping heavily onto the plastic seat. Cooper howled "Bring you to a simmer right on time, run my greasy fingers up your greasy spine" and the blue mist that coated the concert before Colin like color grading in a film became deeper, muddy purple like a bruise.
As a giant Frankenstein puppet meandered onstage, Colin's right eye shifted back and forth rapidly, panic overtaking him. Now his left leg was numb. He tried to wiggle his toes and felt nothing, tried to call out the the man beside him but his mouth wouldn't move. Jesus, what was wrong with him? Cooper sang "You don't wanna talk, so baby shut up," and the mist above the crowd became a black thing hurtling toward him alone.
With a flash, brighter than the stage lights, brighter than than the screens projecting Cooper's red stained lips, the black mist pummeled into him, straight into his head like a railroad spike to the brain. The concert went completely silent. The smell of Big Red gum filled his senses. Colin slumped in his seat, his collapse unnoticed by the fans on their feet cheering and singing all around him.
