What to do on the next day? For one, get on a plane and struggle out of McCarran Airfield. We bobbed, weaved and tip winged our way out of Sin City and into the friendly confines of Sky Harbor in 45 long, harrowing minutes. I looked across at our seat mates (must've been Southwest Air because we were facing each other), and we both, eyebrow raised, questioned our ability to make it out of the battleground turf of Vegas. The same place that produced a dozen bustouts, a narration, a duel and late night reunions.
However, we can't let that stop us. Arriving in Phoenix and driving 10 minutes to my girlfriend's apartment was divine. We reminisced over Vegas, ate some takeout, took a nap and then started to recharge for a never-miss-a-Sunday-show Sunday show. The place was 1/2 sold at best. We had 11th row DFC and the crew that had chosen driving over flying were in rough shape. That said, we had 20 PHX people in a couple of rows surrounding. Reunion time!
First Tube started it off and it was it's typical screaming future wailing music self. Good stuff.
Wolfman's was fine, if forgettable, too lax for the weekend past, too pedestrian for the moment.
Beauty was kind of the kick-in-the-pants necessary. The "I don't care if you've had 6 hrs of sleep in three days this bluegrass will get you up." Go ahead hit me with the breakup songs. Pour some salt on the wounds, Phish.
I was wearing the Vultures/LA Dodgers shirt-and yeah, sure Trey looked at me in the moment before and then they played it. I'll buy that theory. Either way I was jumping for joy! Vultures! Brooding, evil, peck out the skulls of the freaks who didn't take naps.
The Llama...I played along and slapped the friends who didn't fly back to PHX as instructed by Trey. What a surreal, wake up from the dream of Vegas moment.
The Jim, maybe Gypsy Queen, but I had full on Free Thought/Mozambique running through my headfull.
I think I just sat at the break. It was my last break before the REAL break of the hiatus.
Piper went strange quick. I remember a brah in the section after the show saying "no man, they were saying God forgets." Ugh. The segue into Circus was buttery.
The Camel Walk was the best ever.
Bowie had Trey falling down and Page playing the ending chords. Weird.
Waste. Off I go for the next two years. Thanks, Phish for the whole thing. What a thing, this is and was.
I drove home to my apartment in the western part of town, woke up and went back to work in the morning raising money and relating publicly to people like nothing had happened, not the Kid Rock thing, not Forbin's, not the plane ride and certainly not the Piper>Guy Forget>Circus as the normal, everyday folks don't want any part of that. But I did, and it was lovely.