A Weekend Getaway: Part I

Three, Underoath, Coheed and Cambria... What do these three bands have in common? They were all at the Tremont Music Hall in Charlotte, North Carolina on November 20th, and I was there to see them.

We'll start with the drive there. I left my house at 9:05am on Saturday. Myriah and I had to drop by my mom's work and say adieu. We sat in the parking lot for a bit after that due to some technical difficulties with the sound system, but after fixing the cd player in my vehicle, we were off to Nate's house.

Nate was late. We told him we'd be by his house around 9:45-10:00. His alarm clock had been going off sporadically since about 9am, but he didn't pay attention to it. He only finally got up after his dad reset the clock to 10:15 and yelled, "Nate! It's 10:15!" It was really only 9:30, but it got him up.

He had to get dressed and fix his hair before we could leave, but I still needed to print off the directions since my printer was being an ass, so it was alright. We left late, but got gas and got the car washed, and then arrived on time.

We had to pick Matt out from the middle of a parade. It was insane. People were pushing and shoving. The roads were flooded with a throng of mothers with strollers and small children dripping from their fingertips. It took several illegal turns and several frustrated exclamations before I finally made my way over to where we were supposed to pick him up. When we finally got there, we found an extra surprise; Chris was going with us to grab some lunch before we hit the road again.

Getting out of that area was mad. The roads were packed with the above mentioned mothers, and now there were cars of many various shapes, sizes, and colors darting about from paved roadway to paved roadway. It took many more minutes than usual to get out of this labyrinth, but we finally made it out alive and with tasteful thoughts of lunch.

We at first tried Chick Fil A in the mall, but the lines were tremendous, so we settled for everyone's favorite, Taco Bell. Oh yes. We chilled there for a bit, and then Chris' mother came by to take him away from us, and we drove away rather speedily into the dusk... At... 12pm.

From there, we drove many miles and sang along with many songs, and finally ended up somewhere other than Jacksonville. We stopped occasionally at gas stations and a Wal-Mart. Once, we stopped at a rather large river in the Uwharrie Forest area. I made many wrong turns, and back tracked a good many miles. Finally, though, we reached Charlotte.

The boys' bladders were full, so they needed to visit a rest stop of sorts before we hit the concert lines. We searched far and near throughout the ghettos of downtown Charlotte, and finally came across a building that could possibly house a toilet or two. The windows were barred and the occupants seemed rather hostile, but the boys figured it was worth a shot. Unfortunately, that toilet/those toilets within this dismal structure were private commodes, and so our young men were forced to resort to slightly less conventional means of relief. They ran around behind the building, did their business, and then sauntered back to the car, zipping up their pants and fastening their belts, much to the amusement of the several buff onlookers. Myriah and I did our best to hurry them along into the car before these aforementioned buff onlookers decided to take some action in defense of the rear wall of their store, and when they finally took the hint, we sped out of the parking lot and into the dark streets awaiting the massage of our tire treads upon its worn back.

Tempers were flaring and music was blaring as we worked our way to the music hall. Some wanted to stop and wait, others wanted food and fun. In the end, food and fun won out, and so I drove on until we found a Dunkin' Donuts. Several bagels and jokes about heroine later, we once again returned to the car and made our way back to the music hall.

When we arrived, I parked the car on a grassy knoll, and we waded through the weeds and emo hair towards the house of our amusement... And then we stopped short at the end of a line that snaked its way around the building and seemingly across the entire circumference of the world. There, in front of us, was a young man who captured the art of humor as though it were nothing more than a floating bubble in the winds of conversation. He called himself Dan. Dan was the reason we made it through that line alive. He kept our spirits awake and alive with tales of sewing fingers together and finding tickets and whatnot.

When we finally made it into the building, the air was hot with bodies and the smell was that of smoke and body odors. The lights were low, and the crowds were still... And then appeared Three.

Three was made up of more than three men who appeared to be somewhere near thirty or above. Their vocals were strong, clear, and attractive, but the guitarist's fingers weren't moving nearly as quickly as his notes were flying, which brought on some rather disturbing thoughts. It was like Ashlee Simpson on SNL all over again.

Underoath was much more excitedly welcomed. They sounded very nice, and the band members were interesting. The keyboardist appeared to be doing nothing more than pushing a few random keys here and there and headbanging between... But that's pure speculation from a lowly Morgan.

Coheed and Cambria were quite lovely. Claudio's hair brought thrills and chills up the spines of all who were in viewing range. His voice melted through the offkey melodies thrown in by the crowd. Cheering, surfing, and moshing quickly ensued. It was truly a beautiful thing...