[Editor note": here’s a brief revival of Tour Journal revisited, written on a Phish show which took place during post- Thanksgiving weekend, 1994]

It is nearing dusk on June 25, 2000. It’s 70 degrees and pleasant. A light southerly breeze chills my now sunburned back from an earlier round of disc golf played at Kaposia Park in St. Paul, home of the 2001 championships. I’m still riding high from a near hole-in-one, not to mention the smoke and the too strong Beam and Coke I just shared with my good friend Alison-Luv. We are perched on the hardwood bench seats located inside the Bird Amphitheatre at the Minnesota Zoo. It’s not the sound and sight of exotic birds that we eagerly await. In less than ten minutes, the String Cheese Incident is set to take center stage.

Squinting out over the ivy-covered wall behind the stage, I zone in on a group of Mallard ducks frolicking in one of Minnesota’s many blue lakes. A sunset so spectacularly orange, I am reminded of the fiery rocks I raced over while biking and camping in Moab a few years back. The splashing water of what I assumed was a small mouth bass turns my daydreaming from the desert of Utah to the first time I ever caught a "Phish".

It was the day after the Thanksgiving of 1994. Feeling a bit overloaded from three days of a family reunion, I was in need of a little respite. So when my friend Mitch called and invited me to join him at a Phish concert at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago, I was game. Knowing that he had recently come into possession of some bud he dubbed "Danker than Dr. Dre’s Chronic", I probably would have accompanied him to the taping of Barney. You see, I thought Phish sucked. My college neighbor and good friend Carv had thousands of hours of Dead and Phish. I heard many songs over the years while hanging with him, but I just never really got it. In fact, I thought most of the covers they did were a disgrace to whatever band they were posturing to be. Being a big Zeppelin fan in my younger days, I remember covering my ears when I heard a tape of Phish "butchering" Good Times Bad Times. Anyways, in the middle of my third leftover turkey sandwich I heard the horn of Mitch’s Explorer in my gravel driveway.

After quickly introducing me to his two friends, we left our hometown of Rockford, IL for the two-hour trip (including a few wrong turns) to Chicago. On the way to the show I spent a lot of time getting to know Alice (Mitch’s pipe) and his friends Peter Rabbit and his girlfriend Surface (she got this moniker for her propensity to "surf" peoples couches since she didn’t have a bed of her own.). To be quite honest, even though they were a bit "dirty" by my standards at the time, they captivated me with the places and things they had seen while out on the road. During the entire course of the trip, Mitch explained the story of Gamehenge while we listened to his "A+ Quality Soundboard" tape of the 3-22-93 show at the Crest Theatre in Sacramento California. He explained to me about such things as generation loss and "Blanks and Postage" trades online. (Being a computer geek, this piqued my interest.) Needless to say, by the time we arrived onto the parking lot "scene" my skepticism was slowly morphing into intrigue. Within minutes, Peter Rabbit, Mitch and Surface were hugging friends. How the hell do they know all these people? I felt a bit left out, but everyone treated me kindly, especially when he or she found out it was my first show. (Man, I honestly felt like a 40-year-old virgin – What had I been missing?) As they were rattling off set-lists from the past week of shows, I scanned the parking lot taking it all in. "Why are all those people walking around holding a finger up?" Mitch laughingly replied, "They’re trying to get a ticket to tonight’s show?" After seeing a guy with it on his t-shirt I asked, "What’s YEM?" Again laughter. It’s Y.E. M. It’s the abbreviation for You Enjoy Myself. It’s one of their classic tunes". I truly felt like I was in a different country – it was a whole new language that I didn’t even remotely understand. Ready or not we were on our way into the venue.

I’ll spare you the details of how shockingly different the scene inside the show was from any other concert I’ve been too. Let’s just say that I was glad to be at my seat. Stoned and way out of my element, I concluded that the band must be using subliminal messages during the light show or something in order to get such a devoted following of fans. I don’t know what I expected, but when Phish actually took the stage, I was disappointed. They were just a bunch of ordinary looking guys. They opened with Llama and Guelah Papyrus and I didn’t listen to a word of either song. I was too enthralled with the dancing mass of screaming and twirling bodies. It made my neck hairs stick up. I had been to the final four, The Super Bowl and many concerts, but I never felt electricity in a crowd like I did when Phish took the stage.

It wasn’t until Reba that I actually listened to the music. I had to ask Mitch what they were saying, and I actually found myself dancing. I should say, moving my knee a little and shaking my head a twitch. (At that time – that was the most I had ever danced!) About ten minutes later I heard them singing "Bag it – Tag it" – and I screamed to Mitch, "Holy shit – they are still playing that butcher song!!" He fell over laughing. Next, these crazy Phish dudes were "Bouncing Around the Room" on trampolines, and the floor of fans in front of them was undulating like the wave pool at Magic Waters Park back home in Rockford. I thought, "These guys are nuts." Split Open and Melt, Esther and Julius convinced me that there was no other band like this on earth. The lyrics, the antics, the fans, the JAMS, it was wild and one of a kind. Then they closed the set with Golgi Apparatus and the promise that "We’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

About 45 minutes later Phish came back on stage and played what is now my all time favorite set. It went as follows:

Also Sprach Zarathustra-> Mike's Song-> Simple -> Harpua, Weekapaug Groove-> The Mango Song, Purple Rain, Run Like an Antelope, E: Good Times Bad Times

For those that were there, you know exactly what I mean when I say that the "Thanksgiving Version" of Harpua would have turned any non-believer into a full-fledged Phish fan. It contained an interactive glow stick war in which Trey jumped around the stage catching them in midair. At one point he put his guitar down and collected a whole bunch of "Beautiful Green Love Beams" and started launching them back into the audience. To me it epitomized the spontaneity I find so appealing in there music. I finally understood why "Carv" had so many bootlegs. Like snowflakes or the fingerprint on a hand, no two shows are the same. By the time they closed the set with, of all songs, Good Times Bad Times, I had finally "Gotten It".

As we made our way out of the haze of the UIC pavilion, I kept repeating what is now my favorite Phish line of all time, "I saw you with a ticket stub in your hand". Almost six years later I have been seen with hundreds of different ticket stubs in my hand. In three hours, Alison-Luv and I will be walking out of the Zoo with ticket stubs in our hands. The Jam scene has become a musical Field of Dreams for me. As long as they continue to play the music, I will come.