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So apparently it's mandatory today for us AP staffers to blog about our experience at the Gaslight Anthem/Thrice/Alkaline Trio/Rise Against show last night.

Scott posted pretty extensive set lists and Thrice's cover of "Helter Skelter."
Jen showed some iPhone pics mixed with some Palin bashing.

So here we go:

I've lived in Cleveland for a little more than two years now, but I'm still fairly incapable of getting from Point A to Point Anywhere.
Sometimes when there's construction and I have to deviate from my routine path to work, five hours later I realize I'm somewhere outside of Wabash, Indiana. (The weird thing is that I always end up in Wabash.)

So getting from work to the Time Warner Amphitheater often leads to chain smoking and broken dreams.

I was already about 35 minutes late when I realized I was nowhere near the venue. It was around that time that I also noticed that my "Check Gauges" light was flashing (which is my car's polite way of saying, "You forgot to get gas again, you ridiculous douche.")

By the time this all became clear, however, it was too late, and my car stalled out somewhere in the Cleveland Flats. Considering that there's pretty much nowhere to park downtown, and I had come to rest in what looked to be a relatively legal space in an alley outside an abandoned restaurant, I figured I'd just get my power-walk on.

I wasn't sure which direction to go, but I was confident I could handle it. I was a cub scout for three months. I figured if I got lost, I could sustain myself on pine cones filled with peanut butter.

The Flats at this time of evening aren't exactly the type of place respectable, God-fearing people want to be. So, as I passed random derelicts shouting to themselves, I did my best to pretend like I was talking on my cell phone. One man, however, who I would come to know as "Belligerent Theo" saw through my ruse. He began walking next to me and asked, "Say man, wanna buy a fax machine?" I thought to myself, either this guy sees me as the sort of cat who could use a fax machine or slang for black tar heroin has gotten very abstract."

I informed him that I was all set on the fax front, but he insisted on guiding me to the venue because he was supposed to meet "his boy 'Skee'" around there anyway. We talked a lot about government spy brain implants and before we knew it, we were around back of the amphitheater. I could hear the last of the Gaslight set and I assumed this was where Theo and I would part. Theo, however, insisted I hang out to meet 'Skee.' I was just about to fake another cell phone call and dash until a figure approached from down the road. "Yo SKEE!," yelled Theo and I thought for certain I only had 14 seconds to live. "What's up, Theo?," the figure replied, in a voice that sounded eerily familiar to me. I turned and saw Matt Skiba (of Alkaline Trio, and apparently, surreal situations). It took me a second, but I put together that Skee = Skiba.

They talked a little about some time four years ago that involved somebody named Olly and a little about government spy brain implants. Theo introduced us and Matt asked if we wanted to go backstage. I said, "Well, yeah."

He escorted us through the gates (the guards all said hey to Theo) and we shuffled back to the VIP area. We stepped onto his bus and I instantly recognized Dustin Kensrue from Thrice sitting in the lounge playing Super Mario Kart. If you know anything about me, you know that Dustin Kensrue is my favorite frontman and that Super Mario Kart is freaking awesome. He asked me if I wanted to play, and instead of saying something cool, I shouted, "I get Yoshi!"

He stood up and said quietly but firmly, "No, man. I'm Yoshi. I'm always Yoshi." I thought he was joking, but he just kept staring at me.

So I gingerly picked up the controller and reluctantly played as Bowser. My strategy was to find as many Bowser Shells as possible (they knock all other karts off the track), and he said something to me that I'll never forget: "You can't live your life looking for Bowser Shells, man."

After the game, he stood to leave and embraced me heartily for a good 16 seconds. "Good journey, my friend," he said. "Do you wanna watch the show from the stage?"

I said, "Uh, yeah."

So I saw everything--the greatest show arguably ever--from right next to the band.

Afterwards, the rest of the guys in Thrice and most of Rise Against asked me to go to IHOP for Strawberry Banana French Toast.*


* - None of this actually happened. I forgot that the show was last night and couldn't get on the list in time. Instead, I watched It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia and ate two S'Mores Pop Tarts. But from what Scott and Jen said, it sounded like a great show.