Pet Sounds Tour, Meadowbrook Farms, Gilford NH July 9, 2000

Meadowbrook Farms, Gilford NH July 9, 2000

It was the day after my birthday and I was sleeping in my own waste. The night before I drank 16 Jack and Cokes and tore the house down at the local karaoke bar. My posse was in full effect, lining up the booze and the birthday cake. I was so nauseous in the car on the way home; we had to stop every couple of minutes so I could regain my composure. Then finally we pulled over and I rolled down an embankment and did my business. I don’t know how long I was down there. Couple hours, probably. I was only semi-conscious. Each time I heard a car I pulled myself together and tried to climb back up the hill, for fear that the cops would run us in. Once the car passed, I allowed myself to slide back down the vomit slicked hill.

After a long while, I made it back to the car and we got back to my friend’s house. I went straight to the can and spent the rest of the early morning hours resting my head on the toilet seat, occasionally waking up to purge more sickness.

At some point I went to his couch and slept. We had a 5-hour drive ahead of us that day to see Brian, so I had to get some rest. At 12, I got up and drove back to my own house, which was only a minute away. I was still legally drunk. I took a shower and felt a lot better. I put on my Brian Wilson t-shirt, had some toast (my favorite “morning after” meal”), and headed back to my buddy’s house.

After some delay (he brushes his teeth for an hour), we hit the road with me behind the wheel. I still felt horrible, but the adrenaline was pumping due to the knowledge that I would soon be seeing Brian for the second time.

I knew nothing about the venue. The Meadowbrook Farms was the only option for us, so we had to take it. It was no easy drive from New York, what with all those winding mountain roads we had to navigate. The stereo was pumping a variety of Beach Boys hits and we were feeling good. It was at exactly 1 pm that my hangover passed and I was back to normal, although I probably still had a high blood alcohol level.

After a long, dull, drive and some wretched fast food we reached the venue. It was raining cats and dogs. Rain of biblical proportions. This has never hampered a concert before, why should it now? I put on a eye-burning bright blue parka and we headed in. Just as we passed the concession table (tent) a pretty blonde woman in a hoodie passed us. She gave me a smile, obviously recognizing me as the real deal, the die-hard Brian Wilson fan. It’s written all over my face (magic marker). I recognized her immediately and told my friend it was Taylor Mills. He was like “where! Where!” He had missed her. He curses himself to this day.

We figured we’d better find our seats. And there was the surprise. This place was an absolute joke. The stage was a wooden shack, leaking severely all over the equipment. The seats were metal folding chairs lined up haphazardly into half-assed rows in the middle of a muddy field. No shelter whatsoever. When you sit down on the chairs you sink about 5 inches into the mud. We had an umbrella and were in the third row center, but it was a bit of a drag.

The show was delayed as the crew tried to get the stage set up. Water was everywhere. The roof was leaking. I had never seen anything like this before. Brian Wilson, rock legend, playing at a dump like this.

Finally, the show began. Since the show was delayed, they skipped Van Dyke’s opening orchestra piece and got right to the hits. I noticed immediately that Brian’s voice was much stronger than when I saw him the previous year on his first solo tour. He handled the leads himself without having to rely on the others to cover for him so much. Someone started passing beach balls around during “Do It Again”, which got a smile from the band. No amount of rain could dampen our spirits.

The pre-Pet Sounds portion was also shortened by a couple of songs, but I forgave them (Didn’t think I’d notice, did you Brian?!?!). Then we got to Pet Sounds. All I can say was that it was amazing. I remember Brian singing “Don’t Talk” and hitting the high notes perfectly. I was very impressed.

It’s been 5 years since that wonderful day and my memory is already getting foggy. Almost as foggy as those treacherous mountain roads I had to navigate on the long drive home. I was totally exhausted, having barely slept the night before, and my buddy fell asleep, so if I nodded off and ran off a cliff neither of us would ever know. At least I’d die happy.

Somehow I pulled it off. We got home at 2 in the morning in one piece. It was a great show, great memories. And the worst concert venue in history.

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