Getting a seat on the main floor at a rock concert has its pros and cons. The pro is you’re up close — you appreciate the intensity of the music and you have an intimate connection with the performers. The con is you will most likely be on your feet the whole night, stretching your neck to see above the heads of all the people jumping and dancing in front of you.
Last night, at the Bad Company concert, I must’ve spent more time watching the people blocking my view than Paul Rodgers on stage. One person who stood out, literally, was the Tie-Dye Guy. Tall, wide-bodied man with thick, curly, blonde hair. He wore a blue tie-dyed shirt. His seat was three rows in front of ours, a straight diagonal between us and the center of the stage.
As soon as Bad Company came on, Tie-Dye Guy was on his feet. He moved his whole body to the beat of every song, rhythmically pounding the air with his fists. At the end of each line of “Feel Like Makin’ Love” he stuck out his arms, throwing the devil’s horns in the air. This gesture made his thick forearm block the whole body of either Paul Rodgers or Mick Ralphs from my field of vision.
Tie-Dye Guy never sat down. Even during the slow songs, he remained standing. Even when everyone else had taken their seats. In the middle of the show, everyone behind him already sat to rest but he stayed on his feet. Then his wife stood up. She, too, was a double-wide, so, between the two of them, they blocked about three-fourths of the width of the stage from my view.
Tie-Dye Guy not only threw his hands up in the air the whole time, he also held up a digital camera to capture photos and videos of the show. Sometimes I just watched the monitor of his camera to catch the performance that I couldn’t see because of his wide back.
If I’m not mistaken, it was after “Can’t Get Enough” that Tie-Dye Guy’s camera finally ran out of juice. I saw him shove the camera towards his wife gesturing that it was useless. I thought he’d finally sit down. But noooo. Before I could say “Shooting Star” the man’s arms were up in the air again, one aiming a clamshell phone at the stage.
The show was a blast. To watch the remaining original members of Bad Company perform like they haven’t aged — priceless. It was great to be relatively close to the stage, sharing the vibrant, animated energy with the band’s avid fans. Okay, I spent half the night stabbing mental telepathy daggers at the Tie-Dye Guy to sit down. Didn’t work. It was a remarkable rock concert nonetheless.