We were on the verge, Brandon and I. Side by side - in the rain, sans umbrella - our moment had come. Ten hours of sitting on pavement (adjusting every so often as our glutes fatigued), chittering with our fellow Killers lovers and the venue employees, daydreaming, reading, jotting notes, taking in the landscape. All of it accrued to this moment. They were about to start letting us in. Four lines of diverse fans, braving the elements, turned their attentions forward towards the ticket takers.



I jealously guarded my position at the front of the line, earned as it was by getting my ass up at the crack of dawn. I looked around at the last possible moment to see eager sets of eyes peering out from benath umbrellas. There were lots of kids (of course to me, a "kid" is anyone under thirty). Young teens religiously regarding the codes of concert-going with the seriousness of a batboy in a dugout. A fellow early riser, a physician's assistant, also in his late thirties, who had parked his Honda about twenty feet away from where the line started. An sixty-ish looking guy with his teenage daughter who regaled us with stories all day of his concert adventures. Some foreign types, including a couple from Ireland, spending their American vacations following The Killers around. A hush fell over all of us as the gates opened and the ticket-takers huddled together for a little pre-event meeting. I imagined this is what a thoroughbred horse must feel like as the Kentucky Derby is about to begin. Time kind of slowed down. The raindrops grew larger. the kayakers out on the river behind us rowed more crisply but seemed as though they were not going anywhere at all.



And then.....



They began scanning tickets........



And then.......



Our ticket-taker's scanner broke.



I thought a riot was going to break out. The delay only lasted 30 seconds, but it nearly cost us our spot in the front row. A little jogging and we made it. I was amused, however, at the anxiety that 30 seconds cost. For some, especially the young kids, I actually liked that they had nothing better to worry about in life than getting front row at a concert. Because if you've lived any kind of life at all, it's just not a big deal. I could tell that many others besides myself realized that we were living a day in paradise. I felt pretty damn fortunate to be standing in the rain for ten hours to see a concert.



So, that was my most memorable non-music moment at the May 6 Killers concert in Cleveland.