photo by Kari
Read my Review of the night before, 12-30-09
Morning
On new years eve I awoke on a tile floor in a sketch Miami hotel room closet. My roommates aka “the neighbors”, porno steve and colleen, got up around 10am to move the car and get going. I shifted to the one bed in our room and got about an hour of extra rest before colleen returned, blue under the gills. She yakked all over the sidewalk outside somewhere and spent most of the day passed out sick from the night prior.
I retrieved my camera and extra gear from the car and decided to find some breakfast. The night before I scored an address to a spot on Flaggler, Granny Feel Goods, which would do the trick and I prepared for a walk.
Ended up lingering after a wake n’ bake, watching people. The outside of our hotel was completely different during the day. A bustling shoe shop, bodega, cafe and a drug fronting business occupied the strip attached to our building. A series of characters posted up on the thoroughfare, starring down the phans as we wandered out.
The drug fronting business was a “store” that sold aspirin and Gatorade. That’s all I saw on the 3 shelves. It was right next to the front door of our hotel, and three young hispanic dudes stood outside the door, all day. People came in and out all day too, while the legit bodega had few customers.
I purchased some awesome cuban coffee from the cafe for .60 and lit up. It was made by a hot hispanic chick that I went to see three more times before leaving Miami. They had a window on the street and advertised deals for students, but also had a bar and tables inside. It was run by a family, women mostly.
The area surrounding us was Wofford College and the Country courthouse, both closed for the holidays. It probably had no problems making money, that cafe, it was a good spot.
The shoe store had a sign that said “graffiti inside the store only”. It was pretty damn busy, the strip. I even saw three cops go into the cafe, one of which was a Jabba the hut type hispanic woman, who smoked a cigerette “no hands” style, with it hanging out of her mouth. She scared the shit out of me, honestly.
It was about 84 degrees on NYE, so I can only imagine how hot it gets summer time around there. The neighbors came down; we decided to drive for food and eventually got to flaggler Ave.
In our search for Granny Feel Goods I ran into my buddy Julius, walking down the street smoking a cigarette in a cubana. He had recently returned from the Virgin Islands and looked the Miami part.
Our food spot was unfortunately closed. Flaggler reminded me of the strips of stores in the Caribbean, all owned by locals and no real chain stores. It was also like a big mall, on a city street. Fun as hell to walk down for the people alone.
Noon
We eventually made our way to chicken and rice. I had fried plantains and a Budweiser as my two sides from a local grill. Porno steve opted for a meatball sub, while colleen got a heady eggs and toast.
There were hot chicks everywhere, as one would expect in Miami. They just have a higher standard of beauty down there, and you could tell some female phans weren’t used to the extra scrutiny. Don’t really blame them, it’s meat market miami.
I parted ways with the neighbors and met up with the coventry crew at the courtyard marriott. Serious business was being discussed by my associates, among dozens of empty champagne bottles. I commented that we should save some for tonight, and Wildo spoke of how he planned to crotch a bottle in to the venue.
I drank about 6 dutch beers and talked to all my new/old friends. We reflected that it had been quite a year, and most of us had not known each other this time last year. We all agreed we’re better off now. After more prelot drinking, it was time to prep for the NYE lot expereince.
I decided to take the monorail home and Benjo busted out the theme from the Simpsons on his ipod, which was freaking hilariousness. Dr. Pauly drew me a homemade map of their lot spot (on a sticky note; on Joker’s jam cruise supply list) which I later used to plan my campaign. On the way out I ordered a prank wake up call for the conventry crew.
Once at the hotel I bought two more cuban coffees from sexy waitress girl and filmed some random bass player jamming on the street corner. I also braved the sketch hotel shower which really wasn’t as bad as the reviews advertised. I grabbed my ticket. My seat for the NYE show was CLOSE.
I was on the floor 13 rows back, fishman side. I hadn’t talked about it much with anyone, mostly because I’d be by myself. I got the ticket through the lottery for 60$, a nod from the ticket gods for sure.
On the way out I noticed a dejected phan sitting on the curb outside the hotel. I asked him what was wrong and he was pissed at the low quality of our digs. He claimed he read reviews but had no idea it would be this bad.
The reviews clearly state “this is the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in don’t do it”, so I don’t know how he was confused. He was from Monterrey, CA and I told him to cheer up and try to enjoy it.
PreShow Lot
I took the monorail to North park station, right next to the coventry lot spot. I walked around the lot, finding a “main shakedown” littered with balloons but not much action. I ran into the Tampa crew that I sold my tickets to, as well Autumn, a girl I hadn’t seen for about a year.
I was videoing the scene, much to the chagrin of many phans. As I made my way by a Uhaul truck full of tanks and a wook harvest, one dude yelled at me for videoing and I kept moving.
The coventry crew was pumping tunes. Wildo had a Grateful Dead/Jay Z mash-up that drew the affection of many passing phans. He commented we should give out CD’s to all the security inside in order to hook them on jam bands. My buddy Roy and his wife Jen stopped by for beer, and “the neighbors” showed up with friends.
Finally having a show in Florida, most of my friends could attend; it was the great NYE celebration with old and new friends that I had lacked the past few years. I poured champagne that my parents had bought me for xmas and shared it w/everyone.
I brought two flasks in this time. Having a floor seat, I had a separate entrance and a tighter security check. Any vet worth his weight in salt knows to watch others enter security for a while, smoking or finishing a drink as cover.
I went into adjacent port-o-lets, sliding both flasks in my belly belt line. Security made me empty my pockets but I was able to grab my crotch a few times in a calculated act of bravado to keep the flasks in place in line/pat down.
I soon realized we were going through the “players entrance”, as one phan moved a curtain to reveal the locker room and the NBA championship trophy. My hand was basically on my crotch to entire time now, and I mentioned it to the surrounding phans.
Broseph: I have two flasks down my pants so I have to grab myself the whole time
Phan couple: (laugh)
Broseph: Trick is to smile and over exaggerate so I look like I’m just a wierdo, not smuggling booze
Security put green wristbands on us, which ended up being the golden ticket to get anywhere in the venue. Once on the floor I located my seat, Section 2 Row 13 Seat 6. I mention it because it’s the closest I’ve ever been to any show, let alone Phish. We got in about an hour before the start so it was bright and empty on the floor.
I met the guy in seat seven, who hailed from Detroit area and had seen about 100 shows. I needed to get to a bathroom to mix a drink, and I stupidly decided to climb 45 stairs to get to the deck.
I took about 5 metal stairs when the first flask slipped out, making a loud BANG on the aluminum. Then the second one, even louder. I quickly grabbed them and stowed each away. I looked up to see a woman about my mom’s age, sitting in her seat laughing at me. I went to say hello and learned her name was Dana.
Dana’s son bought his family tickets and they hailed from the Miami area; it was her first show. She thought it was hilarious that I wasn’t caught and I concurred that I was stupid lucky.
photo by adammoskowitz
Show
Set 1 contained some of my favorites. PYITE is one of my top 5’s and I thought of the Joker during Gin. I thought of my tampa friends during Guyute, specifically when I turned some people onto phish in 04 and now are super phans. Guyute was an early fav of theirs.
I couldn’t believe the effect CK5 had on us down on the floor. I’ve always admired the lights from afar, but I now know what the vets are saying when they call Chris the 5th member.
Being on the floor comes with certain responsibilities. I know when I’m on the third level looking down on the floor people, I expect to see some rocking out. Seeing some dude just standing there is a sort of insult to all the other phans.
You have a good spot, act like it. Normally I don’t get into the music too much, dance wise, but I let loose since I was on the floor.
Second set highlights were simple and theme. I thought of Btreoch during theme, as he mentioned long ago it was one of his favorites and it later became one of mine. I had never seen simple live, and I remember it was in heavy rotation in 04 when I first began following the band. I became extremely hungry at this point and during set break I went to forage.
All my attempts to not buy concessions ceased as I totally gorged on a cheeseburger, pretzel and a pizza. The final bill was like 25$, more than I spend in a week on lunch. I felt sick and weak prior to third set so it was necessary. In the past I’ve raged on ex-girlfriends for spending that amount of dough on food at a show, so I suppose I should mellow out on that going forward.
Getting back on the floor was a mission each time. Not only did you have to determine which side your on, you had to shove your way through all the phans stacked on the stairwells trying to catch a closer look. I did this three times that night, one time figuring out I was on the wrong side and had to do it over again.
One time I entered row 16, and the phans had to redirect me, saying “wrong row cowboy”. By beginning of the third set I was exhausted and content to drink whiskey and soda from my seat.
3rd set brought all the theatrics. DWD is a top 5 of mine and was the only real music memory I have of this set. They set up a cannon on stage big enough to launch a person. They dropped a disco ball from the ceiling, and someone from off the stage counted down as the band played party time.
Two roadies guided the ball down and opened it up. Fishman got inside the ball, and they loaded it into the cannon. Then they “shot” it through the roof, missing the highlighted net hanging from the ceiling.
The cannon ball would have gone directly over us, so everyone knew it was complete nans. Trey announced they needed a drummer; I thought I could do it. Even though I was far away I raised my arms. Alas this was also a scam. “Sarah”, a pretty hot brunette, came down and we heard her voice through the P.A.
She sat down on the set and we cheered. She loved trey and fluffhead, and for a moment I thought Sarah was actually playing. But, after the first vicious 16th note snare ram I realized fishman was playing, dressed like a chick.
The jadded vets claim the fluffhead was a bit sloppy. It started out bad, but that was just theatrics. I honestly don’t remember many mistakes but WTFE. I love the squirming coil, it was an early fav during my introduction in 04. The guy next to me called YEM and we all gave him high fives when it started.
An of course, Loving Cup brought the house down. I think everyone who was at Fest 8 knew that no Loving Cup would ever top 8 but it was still pretty cool. Trey announced they were done until summer, I predict July.
Post Show
The nitrous mafia was out in full force. Many people huddled around our car, complete strangers, huffing balloons. A too cool for school tee shirt salesmen stored his bag in Strawberry’s car and scoffed at my July tour prediction. Joker drove the car back as the rest of us made a walk to the courtyard marriot.
It was quite the scene: nitrous, new years and miami locals cow eyed at all of the phans. Wildo commented how he got his champagne in via crotch, but everyone said it was warm, tasting terrible. I thought it was kind of funny.
Once back we realized we had very little alcohol. All stores were closed so I took to the neighbors to try and get booze, communicating via balcony. Wildo opened up a huge, heavy bottle of Negra champagne. I ended up buying a soda and mixing the remainder of my flask, which surprisingly lasted till sunrise.
Some of my associates began using all of their remaining drugs, and I hit on a chick next store to try and get some new years lovin. It mostly revolved around her turning down my trade ideas for booze:
Broseph: ok, I’m willing to trade Molly and herb for some beers. Plus, I’ll rub you down. You can’t lose.
Chick Next Door: That’s a tempting offer, but we have a big gulp cup full of Molly and the finest horticulturist in the state clipping fresh buds for us.
Broseph: Well the rub down will have to suffice
CND: how bout I just give you beers and we’ll call it even
Broseph: well, I’m a generous giver so I don’t know how even it will be…
Porno Steve and Colleen showed up, bringing the rest of our booze stash and some party favors. I gave a speech about why I don’t use molly and no one made fun of me, which was a first. The wake up call I ordered came at 5am, but we were all still awake so no one got punked.
We hit up continental breakfast, and I got video of Benjo insulting the quality of their croissants. I later passed out and Dr. Pauly posted it on twitter.
I eventually got up and said my goodbyes. I caught Change100 and Dr. Pauly outside waiting for a cab. I hit the monorail wasted, and videoed a shaky ride back to my hotel. I crashed until 12pm, where we checked out and made the tedious ride home. I met a young couple in the elevator driving 24+ hours back to Chicago and decided I had it easy. I slept most of the way, but drove the last leg from Nokomis, my old stomping grounds.
When I returned home I realized I had tapped over much of the stuff i got the first day, but still had alot of good footage in tact. I crashed on my couch at 8pm, happy to be home.
Posted by broseph 
