I am a huge Pink Floyd fan. Their music sculpted my teen angst leading into the years as I ventured into NYC to study art. I financed my college years at first as a mechanic who fixed and ran junk mailing machines. I became quite good at keeping the machines running with rubber bands sweat and delicate finesse along with zen wishful thinking. In the process I became a machine myself while wearing headphones from a Walkman that blasted Pink Floyd.
This was my first job that I got while still in high school. A team of high school girls were hired to sort the mail according to zip codes. The boys would then tie up the piles with machines and throw them in mail bags. A swing arm would rotate around the package and then tie a knot. I got to the point where I could keep my foot pressed down on the mechanical pedal and bundle packages so fast that the piles would instantly disappear. The sorters would try and keep up. One of the sorters would joke with me and we started to race one another in the quest to see who could produce the largest pile of junk mail faster. She was my first crush. We only dated a few times before we both went off to different states for our college educations.
The Pink Floyd song, Wish You Were Here becoming my anthem as I went to the School of Visual Arts in NYC. The music kept me company on the many long bus and subway rides to and from classes. I kept the flame alive for this former co-worker for years, but eventually I attended her wedding, and she attended my wedding a few years later in NYC. The song still resonates with me. I no longer long for her but I still feel a longing for something I may never find.
My friend saved me a seat at house right. The concert started an hour before the time listed on the tickets. We were seated behind an empty chair which gave us a fabulous view of the stage. We joked that a super tall guy would likely sit there, and that he would probably be wearing a large cowboy hat or have a huge Bob Ross Afro. Just as we stopped laughing a very tall man sat in the seat. We just looked at each other and smiled.
A tribute band can be a risky proposition. This group however was amazing. They brought back all my teen angst along with the harsh reality of failed relationships. What made the concert particularly fun was that I went with a friend who it turns out is also a huge Pink Floyd fan. We both knew all the lyrics and sang along with absolute abandon. Behind us was a guy who knew when to chime in at all the right moments. In one song that mentions lunatics, he started laughing as loud as he could. I was in heaven, in the company of complete lunatics.
For the Dark Side of the Moon, the movie The Wizard of Oz was projected on the screen. I have read that the Pink Floyd album works in perfect sync as a soundtrack for that movie. I am not sure if the music worked in perfect sync but it was effective. The most heart wrenching scene in the movie was when Dorothy had to give up her little dog Toto. For that level of loss. Pink Floyd music rings true.
The darkest music of The Wall was reserved for the end of the concert. Whenever I looked at my friend I saw a smile from ear to ear. We sang Comfortably Numb like our lives depended on it. I felt pure joy but also found myself on the point of tears, it was such a strange flood of emotions.
My friend first discovered Pink Floyd at the tender age of 12. I probably discovered the band at the age of 17 or so in NYC. Both are impressionable ages and the music has stuck with us for all these years.
Simply put this was an amazing concert and I am so grateful to have shared it with a friend.
