I guess the need to ruminate was spurned by a brief incident that happened the other night at the store in which I work a couple of days a week.  Being as continually "aware" as I am of most things Phishy, it wasn't hard to notice an Antelope shirt about fifty feet away in the frozen aisle of a local Shoprite in central NJ.  This young guy didn't look to be more than about twenty, give or take, and he was helping a woman, who was very likely his mom, do the shopping.

When he approached within earshot, I let him know that I recognized the band, and after a momentary look of confusion, his face literally exploded into the broadest smile I can only compare to looks that I get from my grandkids when I haven't seen them in a while.  The humdrum demeanor that he wore like a heavy winter coat disappeared in an instant's recollection of every Phish song he'd ever heard and cherished as some personal gift from Apollo himself.  The joy of that momentary flash was made curiously more surreal because he recognized from the smile on my face that I understood its profound importance to him. He gave me a high sign and I returned the gesture with a pleasure equal to his own.

I asked him if he was going to Vegas and his expression got even more intense as he said, "you know it".  I was about to approach and ask him more about the shows he's been to and how long he's been into the band, but I got called to the phone to handle a problem, and he moved on with his shopping.  By the time I had finished taking care of business, he was out of sight, and didn't think it necessarily appropriate to chase him down to continue our talk.  Just the fact that two whacked-out Phish fans made a brief connection was really all that was important.

I'm not really an old fan, although I am old, and I am a fan.  I've only been into the band since '95 when A Live One came out, but I've been bouncing around the room in varying degrees ever since.  Even so, I'm not necessarily sorry to say that I'm considerably less preoccupied with Phish than I used to be, nor that when I'm looking to hear something from the boys I typically reach back into the years prior to '99.

This doesn't bother me because I've come to understand one thing about being a fan of this band, and that is that everybody seems to enjoy Phish for a very wide variety of reasons, and that peoples' opinions on what makes a good Phish performance are as broad as the smile on that young fan's face the other night.  Because of the many types of songs played, and the many styles through which they choose to interpret them; because of the informal, almost casual approach they perpetuate in the presentation of their music, and a dedication to foster improvisation whenever some cosmic mood calls; because of the circus party atmosphere at shows that is encouraged by their philosophy, and the proclivity of their fanbase to "light up" at shows as easily as most concert goers "chug down", the only consistency about the band is that their songs, shows and studio work are almost generally expected to be inconsistent on average.  The whacked out thing is that this doesn't matter a damn to most fans.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think inconsistency is a bad thing when it comes to something as innocuous as music.  Inconsistency in cement used to construct a building is a bad thing, inconsistency in disciplining children is supposedly a bad thing.  Inconsistency from the band you listen to is generally only a waste of your time and money, and only if you find nothing redeeming in any of the music.  Thing is, most of us Phish fans find plenty within the inconsistencies to keep us coming back for more.  As a matter of fact, for the addictive personality, it's the highs and lows, and the contrasts they pose that cement the attraction to the band in the first place.

Following Phish is like jumping on those trampolines that they use so merrily during YEM.  I envision Phish fans in the audience in much the same way.  I see us all psychically jumping up and down, all in different rhythms and patterns. Some reaching the apex together, some at the bottom of their perception, most somewhere in between heading in one direction or the other, some totally stopped and unreceptive to the band altogether.  But everyone seems to know that, at some point in the process, you and the band and any number of concertgoers will link on the same vibration for a momentary eternity, and that's all that really matters for then and forever.  

I won't be doing Vegas.  The tradeoffs aren't worth it at this point in my life, but that doesn't bother me a bit.  I've got A Live One on my system at the moment and two of my grandkids are coming over tonight to try and best me at Nok-hockey.  I'll be bouncing on a different set of tramps with them, but maybe I'll play a little YEM in the background to the sounds of the whacking of the sticks and the whizzing of that dopey little wooden puck as it slides across the masonite "rink".

But if the circus comes to town this summer, I'll probably be there for a show or two.  It may take the band a little longer to get my grumpy old ass into the air with them, but I'm sure I can always find a song or two to make it worthwhile.  In the meantime, I hope my young grocery-shopping friend and all of you have a great time bouncing around Las Vegas next month.  Be careful, my friends, Las Vegas was built to prey on human weaknesses, and the cultural temperament in this country is undergoing change, so some people may not be especially tolerant to displays of a progressive lifestyle.  Stay close to each other and to the music.

thanks for the time,
- bill