1997 Called
It was the summer of 1997. I was driving an ’85 Camaro that was just as much bondo as it was Camaro parts. Much of the summer was spent in that car with my brother and my cousins, driving to Lake George for mini-golf and to the mall for Laser Tag and the movies. The gas gauge didn't work and we had to guess at when it was getting close to empty. We never did run out of gas. I had two cassettes that we used to play most of the time: Summertime by Will Smith and Whoop! There it is. The four of us knew all the words by heart and when we would walk the streets of Lake George, we would sing acappella, badly.
The adventures of that summer culminated in August. My cousins had to go home to New Jersey, college started for me, and high school continued for my brother. The last hurrah, if you will, was a concert at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC).
I was always a loner. I didn’t have a whole lot of friends in school and was incredibly awkward around my peers. However, when I was around my brother and my cousins, I was cool. I don’t know why, but the three of them had always brought out the best in me. When they weren't around, I spent a lot of time alone in my room. I sketched often, prior to picking up the guitar, and listened to music. My two favorite bands were Counting Crows and the Wallflowers.
On July 27th, 1997 The Wallflowers and Counting Crows played at SPAC.
I had purchased four tickets when they went on sale earlier in the summer. I figured that I would attend with my brother and my parents. And then I discovered that my cousins were going to be staying with us. Imagine my excitement: My two favorite bands with my three favorite people! This was going to be amazing.
And it was amazing.
We got to SPAC super early – I think the Camaro was the first car in the parking lot – and hung out, eating snacks and drinking soda (this was way prior to alcohol), blasting Whoomp! There it is and Summertime. We had a marshmallow fight.
When we were let into SPAC, we noticed that there was an opening band called That Dog. We joked, “Have you seen That Dog?” "Where did That Dog go?" We were hilarious. That Dog was decent.
We went to our seats, which were in the balcony. During the end of That Dog’s set, I saw two of the guys from Counting Crows in the audience watching the opener. We were jealous that people on the floor were able to get their autographs.
I don’t remember much of the concert. I do remember the feelings. I remember looking next to me and exchanging looks of excitement with my brother and cousins. I remember singing along at the top of my lungs. I remember feeling like I could fly off of the balcony and float around the amphitheater like the music – we later determined that we had a pretty amazing contact high from the marijuana in the air.
My three favorite people, two favorite bands, and me.
After the show, we hung out by the Camaro. We ate more snacks and drank more soda. We had another marshmallow fight. We giggled like little girls (this is when we realized we were high). I bought a t-shirt from a guy scalping t-shirts. We drove home with the windows rolled down, singing along to Will Smith. “Summer, summer, summer tiiiiime.”
My brother and I said “good-bye” to our cousins a couple days later. School started. I saved the ticket to the concert and later placed it in a scrap book.
Around that time, we all started to grow up. In the next few years, my brother and I saw our cousins less and less. There were no more endless summers together, due to family issues. My parents divorced around then and there was incredible drama associated with that. My brother had a great group of friends that he spent more and more time with before he eventually went away to college. I spent even more and more time alone.
I got into a groove of work and school and learning to play the guitar. The Camaro met its untimely demise in an accident that wasn't my fault. My brother got married and moved to New Hampshire, eventually starting a family. I got married and divorced. I saw my cousins at each of our weddings briefly, but struggled to find things to talk about. It wasn't the same. We all grew into different people. 1997 was long gone.
I remained a fan of Counting Crows and the Wallflowers, purchasing all of their releases. I saw each band a few more time..
A few months ago, I received an email from Counting Crows, announcing their tour with… the Wallflowers. 1997 called.
The closest they were coming to me was Turning Stone in Verona, NY. I bought one ticket.
I drove my ’08 Honda Fit to the show, somewhat early, but not too early. I ate a cheeseburger at a bar in Turning Stone. I had a beer. The bartender was a bro who spent most of the time ignoring me and chatting with friends of his who were there. I longed for a bag of marshmallows, my brother, and my cousins.
As soon as the doors opened to the Event Center, I went in.
I stopped over at the merchandise table and mused at the prices of T-Shirts. 40 dollars. The times have changed. I can’t afford a 40 dollar t-shirt. I bought another beer and went to my seat.
The concert was wonderful. The Wallflowers sounded excellent and played mostly hits. Sixth Avenue Heartache (one of my favorite songs ever) was a piece of a nostalgia that warmed my soul. I closed my eyes at times during their set and pictured my crew sitting in the three seats next to me. I held a tasteless beer in my hand and imagined it was a root beer. I smiled when I caught a whiff of pot.
My brother would certainly be relaxing at this time of day. He has a toddler, my adorable niece, and a newborn, my nephew. No time for concerts, though, I’m sure he has plenty of food fights…
Occasionally, I get updates on my cousins from my mom. One year, they are doing okay. They next, they are not. They had it tough. Their parents… well, I don’t want to get into that.
I got a lot of great pictures at the concert. I’ll add them and my ticket to the same scrapbook that the 1997 ticket is in.
When a long passed time calls, you can't go back. I will never relive 1997. Still, I will never forget it.
The adventures of that summer culminated in August. My cousins had to go home to New Jersey, college started for me, and high school continued for my brother. The last hurrah, if you will, was a concert at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC).
I was always a loner. I didn’t have a whole lot of friends in school and was incredibly awkward around my peers. However, when I was around my brother and my cousins, I was cool. I don’t know why, but the three of them had always brought out the best in me. When they weren't around, I spent a lot of time alone in my room. I sketched often, prior to picking up the guitar, and listened to music. My two favorite bands were Counting Crows and the Wallflowers.
On July 27th, 1997 The Wallflowers and Counting Crows played at SPAC.
I had purchased four tickets when they went on sale earlier in the summer. I figured that I would attend with my brother and my parents. And then I discovered that my cousins were going to be staying with us. Imagine my excitement: My two favorite bands with my three favorite people! This was going to be amazing.
And it was amazing.
We got to SPAC super early – I think the Camaro was the first car in the parking lot – and hung out, eating snacks and drinking soda (this was way prior to alcohol), blasting Whoomp! There it is and Summertime. We had a marshmallow fight.
When we were let into SPAC, we noticed that there was an opening band called That Dog. We joked, “Have you seen That Dog?” "Where did That Dog go?" We were hilarious. That Dog was decent.
We went to our seats, which were in the balcony. During the end of That Dog’s set, I saw two of the guys from Counting Crows in the audience watching the opener. We were jealous that people on the floor were able to get their autographs.
I don’t remember much of the concert. I do remember the feelings. I remember looking next to me and exchanging looks of excitement with my brother and cousins. I remember singing along at the top of my lungs. I remember feeling like I could fly off of the balcony and float around the amphitheater like the music – we later determined that we had a pretty amazing contact high from the marijuana in the air.
My three favorite people, two favorite bands, and me.
After the show, we hung out by the Camaro. We ate more snacks and drank more soda. We had another marshmallow fight. We giggled like little girls (this is when we realized we were high). I bought a t-shirt from a guy scalping t-shirts. We drove home with the windows rolled down, singing along to Will Smith. “Summer, summer, summer tiiiiime.”
My brother and I said “good-bye” to our cousins a couple days later. School started. I saved the ticket to the concert and later placed it in a scrap book.
Around that time, we all started to grow up. In the next few years, my brother and I saw our cousins less and less. There were no more endless summers together, due to family issues. My parents divorced around then and there was incredible drama associated with that. My brother had a great group of friends that he spent more and more time with before he eventually went away to college. I spent even more and more time alone.
I got into a groove of work and school and learning to play the guitar. The Camaro met its untimely demise in an accident that wasn't my fault. My brother got married and moved to New Hampshire, eventually starting a family. I got married and divorced. I saw my cousins at each of our weddings briefly, but struggled to find things to talk about. It wasn't the same. We all grew into different people. 1997 was long gone.
I remained a fan of Counting Crows and the Wallflowers, purchasing all of their releases. I saw each band a few more time..
A few months ago, I received an email from Counting Crows, announcing their tour with… the Wallflowers. 1997 called.
The closest they were coming to me was Turning Stone in Verona, NY. I bought one ticket.
I drove my ’08 Honda Fit to the show, somewhat early, but not too early. I ate a cheeseburger at a bar in Turning Stone. I had a beer. The bartender was a bro who spent most of the time ignoring me and chatting with friends of his who were there. I longed for a bag of marshmallows, my brother, and my cousins.
As soon as the doors opened to the Event Center, I went in.
I stopped over at the merchandise table and mused at the prices of T-Shirts. 40 dollars. The times have changed. I can’t afford a 40 dollar t-shirt. I bought another beer and went to my seat.
The concert was wonderful. The Wallflowers sounded excellent and played mostly hits. Sixth Avenue Heartache (one of my favorite songs ever) was a piece of a nostalgia that warmed my soul. I closed my eyes at times during their set and pictured my crew sitting in the three seats next to me. I held a tasteless beer in my hand and imagined it was a root beer. I smiled when I caught a whiff of pot.
My brother would certainly be relaxing at this time of day. He has a toddler, my adorable niece, and a newborn, my nephew. No time for concerts, though, I’m sure he has plenty of food fights…
Occasionally, I get updates on my cousins from my mom. One year, they are doing okay. They next, they are not. They had it tough. Their parents… well, I don’t want to get into that.
I got a lot of great pictures at the concert. I’ll add them and my ticket to the same scrapbook that the 1997 ticket is in.
When a long passed time calls, you can't go back. I will never relive 1997. Still, I will never forget it.
