Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Top 10 Phish in Las Vegas Moments: #3 Jay's Chicken Fingers

The Halloween show... 1998... was one of the most wasted moments of my life. I can't recall a time since then when I was so far out there... so out of control that I had no idea what was going on. Most people get like that after one hit of a joint... alas, I was on four hits of high power blotter LSD. If I knew better, I would have only taken two... but I did what I did and Senor was equally lit up.

I used to close my eyes a lot at shows back then. I would space out and let the music take my mind to places I had never been before. And indeed, my physical body was in Las Vegas, but my mind was some where outside of Pluto or beyond. I was in the middle of a moment, a geniune melding of Phish's melodies and my brain activity... it was an amazing internal experience. I lost track of time and space and forgot where I was. When I opened my eyes, I was lost for a few moments until I got my bearings. I realized I was at a Phish concert when I saw the stage and Trey singing. Senor was to my right was dancing like a fiend. A group of Phishy chicks were hugging each other in front of me... and I turned to my left and saw Jay, Senor's brother, who was sitting down and eating a basket full of chicken fingers. It was the most shocking thing I ever saw (in my state of mind...), I mean, who eat's a basket of chicken fingers at a Phish show? Jay.... that's who. And he was enjoying every bite. When I tapped Senor on the shoulder and let him know what was up, he burst out in his unique Senor laugh... a combination of a howl of a derranged man with the tinge of giddyness of an excited schoolgirl. He laughed so hard that people several rows in front of us turned around in bewilderment to check out what all the ruckus was about. It was just us... Senor laughing hysterically, me perplexed over the scene... and Jay munching on the best basket of chicken fingers in his life.

Ah... that was a wild night. I lost my shit later on in the middle of the Sahara casino and had to be taken up to our room by my buddy Ty, to calm down. Yeah, I know... I never get that shithoused that I needed a babysitter. And of course, who could forget about the fist fight I almost got into... when our cab driver made some not so nice remarks to the death of Jerry Garcia. I wanted to kick the shit out of him right there. I wish I did, it would have made for a better story.

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