[editor's note: another interlude this month with this personal essay from Mary. Next month another look at a band from the past...]

Dear Phish: I’m Sorry...
How I rediscovered my own personal "Ghost of Jambands Past"

A not so long time ago, I used to go to Phish quite often. Mike and I would mail order our tickets; I would plan ahead to miss one or two weeks of classes at a time. We would save up some money, make some hotel reservations and then be off on another one of our Phish adventures that many of our friends thought were crazy. Whatever they thought, all I knew was that I always had a wonderful time, got to see lots of good friends, and the music was always amazing. We had our favorite venues; three nights at Worcester in November became a true love that we waited for every fall. The Lemonwheel will always be remembered as being one of the greatest experiences of my life: filled with happiness and a lot of fun memories.

I guess I was having too good of a time, because fate as it always seems to do sooner or later, stepped in and pitched me a curve ball that I couldn’t hit. I found out that I was very ill and needed to undergo several courses of treatment and surgeries almost two years ago. What seemed like a small problem the summer of 1996 was actually a larger one lying in wait.

To make things more interesting, after much contemplation and emotional stress, I had finally graduated from college and had an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Somewhere in the calmness of “in between medical emergencies” I moved to Philadelphia, got a “real” job, and began graduate school. So here I am, wise beyond my years after dealing with being sick off and on for a year, having a real job with limited vacation time, and going to classes three nights a week, unable to miss class very often since I only go to each class once a week. Somewhere in the mix of all these things, going to Phish shows was not a priority anymore.

I think many people reading this can relate to this situation. Many of us do work and can only take two or three weeks vacation. Driving across two or three states to catch a show is impossible because of responsibilities and obligations we have here at home. Some of us have new families and spontaneity has taken a back seat to reality. This is what I kept telling myself, it became my mantra. I had to convince myself that this was why I wasn’t seeing Phish shows anymore, and not because some of the darker feelings I was having towards the scene and the music were influencing me.

In 1999 I only went to two shows, the December shows at the Philly spectrum. Money was tight all summer with moving and there was really no way having just started school to fit any of the fall tour around my schedule. The Spectrum shows were perfect, close to our apartment, two nights, great seats, I thought it would be wonderful and would cure the Phish drought that had come over Mike’s and my existence. Prior to these two shows, the last two shows we had seen were the 1998 New Year’s Eve shows at the Garden.

I was not prepared for what met me at the Spectrum. Before I explore that, I need to take a slight digression. Prior to the shows, I had heard and read about things that were observed and experienced while on tour: rampant, blatant drug use, near riots, police confrontations, etc. Honestly, I wrote it all off as nothing new. There was always rampant drug use, and for quite some time, I was one of the users. There were always police confrontations; they like to hassle us. Anyone who experienced the police checkpoint on Hempstead Turnpike after the Nassau Coliseum shows during the Island Tour can attest to this. Nothing really alarmed me.

Somewhere around 1997-1998, after I found out that I was sick, I stopped smoking marijuana. There were other factors that lead to this decision, namely to quote my buddy Brian, “When the drugs start telling you its time to stop, you should listen.” This was not a big deal to me. The shows I went to sober actually seemed a lot better than the ones I had experienced before. However, I truly believe that once you have stopped doing drugs, it is extremely, EXTREMELY, difficult to deal with the scene surrounding the shows. Now I know that there is the Phellowship, but I am not much of a joiner. And it really isn’t the temptation to do drugs that bothers me; it is the people who are fucked up out of their minds on drugs that really annoys me.

I know I am going to get a lot of shit for writing this, but before you flood my mailbox with hate mail, read on. Those of you out there that go to shows, do drugs, can handle your shit, or can’t handle it, but have buddies that help you out or something along those lines, I have no problem with. Those of you who go to shows, get fucked up and have an awesome time, are there for the music and are just fun to be with, I have no problem with

. What bothers me is what I experienced at the Philly Spectrum shows last December. Now, Mike gets annoyed with me because he doesn’t understand why I let my environment at shows affect me so much. I have argued with people about this and have had people argue in agreement with me about this. Sometimes who is sitting next to, behind, and in front of you at a show really does have some bearing on how your evening ends up. Those of you who have had people talking very loudly behind you or screaming at the top of their lungs, “Play Bouncin’” during that amazing Divided Sky have experienced what I am talking about. The couple that was standing beside us at the Great Went who got beer spilled all over them by two extremely drunk and belligerent young ladies also have an idea of what I am talking about. Yes, there are many of us, who are not bothered by things like this, but I will admit I am not one of them and what I experienced at the Spectrum really bothered me and made me swear off Phish indefinitely.

Not to put too fine a point on it, what bothered me about the Spectrum shows were the 13 and 14 year old children who were seated behind us both nights that were completely fucked up. These kids were way beyond the point of acceptable “fucked up-ness”. They had no idea where they were, what they were doing, and were very vocal about it. Frankly I was disgusted and disturbed. I may have been that young when I tried drugs, but I had the benefit of an older companion to help teach me the proper etiquette that goes with being high. Some of you may laugh at the notion of drug etiquette, but believe me it does exist. I spoke with some friends who have been around for a while about what I had experienced and the general consensus was that a lot of the younger crowd are not really there for the music, they just don’t get it, and have no one around to show them the way.

For a really long time I believed this and thought that things were just pretty bad through and through. I was tired of going to shows and seeing this scene play over and over. I was tired of the after show lot being filled with dozens and dozens of people zoned out on nitrous walking around with three or four balloons in their hands narrowly being missed by cars on the way out of the venue. Things, at least from my perspective, did not look good.

Fast forward to July 3, 2000. This was the first show I had been to since the Spectrum shows. I admit I was a bit apprehensive. For some unknown reason other than my stupidity, we decided to drive to the show instead of taking the much more convenient ferry. Upon arriving at the venue and parking the car, my little group took the requisite walk around the lots and I realized that nothing much had really changed since the “days of old”. Grilled cheese and veggie burritos, as well as water and beer were still plentiful. We hung out for a while, saw some friends, and made our way inside. Once we found our seats, we waited for the show to begin. I noticed how crowded the lawn was and was thankful that we had shed seats, especially since it looked like the sky was going to open up at any moment.

Not really wanting to get into the whole story since this is long enough, a comment was made before the show started that got me pretty angry and probably influenced my whole outlook on the show. I was not into the show at all that night. At some point during the second set I got ketchup thrown all over me. This pretty much sealed my feelings of disappointment and anger for the evening. Add to this the whole experience of getting out of Camden after the show and maybe you can understand why I was ready to sell my ticket for the July 4th show to someone who I was sure would enjoy it more than me.

Mike was persistent in his sadness about me not going, and at some point the morning of the 4th I decided that I would try again. Looking back now, all I can say is thank God I changed my mind. There are much better shows than the July 4th 2000 how; I have been to some of them. They have played better than they did that night. But as far as I was concerned, this was the greatest show I had ever been to. Yeah, they didn’t play the Curtain I wanted to hear till three nights later, but everything about this show was wonderful. We took the ferry and got in hassle free. We saw friends. The four 17-year-olds sitting next to us, while they were high as a kite, actually got “it”. This was their 20th show, they had done tour since Raleigh, this was the last show of their run and they were ecstatic. It was their first Lizards, for some it was their first TMWSIY->AM->TMWSIY, for others it was their first Rift. All I know is the looks on their faces were priceless and the gushing (and boy do I mean gushing) excitement and ecstasy that emanated from them was nothing short of contagious. They reminded Mike and myself of what we used to be like in our early days. Seeing the show with these guys brought tears to my eyes several times throughout the course of the evening.

Now if you have made it this far through the article you may be tempted to say, “She liked it because she ended up next to cool people that’s all.” But let me tell you why I am now ready to go to several fall shows again: these four guys from NC reminded me of something that I and I dare say many others have forgotten: it is all about the music. Once it becomes about something else, you are destined to not enjoy yourself anymore. I looked around that night and saw many faces enjoying the music. This made me extremely happy.

So to Phish, I say I am sorry for judging so harshly and I thank you for giving me the opportunity to feel the way I haven’t for so long. While there is no way in the near future that I can plan my life around tour, I am happy to plan tour around my life.