U2 came to Baltimore Wednesday night. I went with a couple people I used to work with at Aetna. As usual, they put on a great show. The sound was fantastic. They played "Ultraviolet" during the encore -- just for me. Best of all, they pretty much stuck to the music with Bono preaching quite a bit less than he has the past few times I've seen them.
After the show, I found myself flashing back to the first time I saw U2. It was back in 1987 at RFK Stadium in DC. I remember the show very well. Kim and I drove down and stayed at my sister Maria's apartment for the weekend. The concert was on a Sunday night. Kim had to work the following Monday so she couldn't stick around for the show. So, I ended up going with Maria, some of her friends, our other sister Lisa (who was going to college in DC), and a couple of Lisa's friends.
We had tickets way up in the top tier of the stadium. There were no big video screens or other accoutrements (did I used that word correctly?). It was just the band, a ton of speakers, and your basic light show. That was all the crowd needed. From the first notes of the opening song ("Where The Streets Have No Name"), everyone was in a frenzy - screaming the lyrics, moving their feet, pumping their fists. There was a huge rainstorm in the middle of the show but that didn't slow anyone down -- except Bono who slipped and took a fall from the stage. That ended up cutting the show short by a few songs but noone was too upset. The night had been that good.
The show was awesome, which is why I remember it so vividly. It had only one downside -- it raised my expectations for every U2 show I've seen since. And, my expectations are never fully met. I came close one more time, at a show during the Zoo TV tour the early '90's. But, the gap between expectations and reality has gotten wider with each successive show.
On Wednesday night, I'll admit I got bummed when I saw anyone sit down during the show. I wanted to ask "Why did you even buy a ticket?" to the people who left early to beat the rush. I tried -- but failed -- to get the people around me to sing "40" when the show ended. So, as I walked to my car at the end of the show, I was trying to reconcile those thoughts. Did I have fun or not? Given how hoarse I was from singing so loudly and the sweat that was still dripping off of me from all the jumping around I'd done, I decided the answer was "Yes." And, I knew that, in 3 short weeks, I'd be doing it all over again in Philadelphia -- general admission tickets on the floor this time. Best of all, Nick will be there with me.
