K, I shall paint the scenario: July 2001 Trey Tour at PNC in New Joisey, which is where Trey and I grew up. LOL. Though I don’t recollect much of this show, the Philly Mann show was tops for me, and my amigos claimed PNC blew ass anywayz. Well, this segue into the real story serves to both make me feel better for missing most of the show and install some piece of mind. 

Now, we had started out on our trek as any typical bros and sisz might have, a car ride bursting with open containers, flaming bowls, pills flying, and all other pre-show exercises. Well, one of my best peeps whom I was traveling with had lifted some pharmeez from his poppa but neglected to tell me what his pops was in for health wise. I think these lil buggers turned out to be some sort of mad muscle relaxers for heart ailments. OK D'OH 

K people, y’all know as well as I do, we all think we know what’s what on the facet of pharmacology. We are all know-it-alls either because of word of mouth, you’ve tried everything*10, or cause our community is a wonderful medium and learning tool for this type of knowledge. So, in addition to the alcohol, x, xanz, lemmz, vicz, percz, you name it... i took a couple o these lil devils—can’t remember the name, number, size, color…and I don’t want to. 

Anyway, I was blitzed... but thinking to myself, it’s kewl, you’ve been a waste product before and managed, so let’s go see Trey and company. Well, the walk started out kinda slow, real slow... like my friends were about six rows of cars ahead in just a second. Yep, they looked back and my sub-conscious could just hear ‘em, “looks like our boy is overly wasted, but let’s just get him by the gates and security which usually will make you at least semi-coherent and wary of your surroundings.” Not today for me. 

You could have been a U.S Marshall and it wouldn’t have made one inkling of difference. We arrived at the lines and about a hundred or so deep, I had no control over my muscles, ANYWHERE... no legs no arms no nothing. I was pretty much being carried by my two peeps and we were getting close to hand the tix to the checker person. 

At this point, all of the yellow jacketed security clan and some state trooperz all were lookin at me. They must have been sayin, “no way this kid can come in the show, can’t even walk.” But no one did anything, as far as authority (authoriteee) is concerned. So, I was in, got past the feel you up guys, and was kind of relieved until I saw what lay before me—a jagged cliff, naw, but it seemed more like Mount Everest. Fyi…at PNC you gotta go up three sets of stairs to reach the lawn part of the amp, just like most other amphitheatres. 

I’m like, oh no!! No chance in Gamehenge I’m going to be able to climb these babies. Reverting back, I now know there might have been a chance on my knees, but that would’ve taken at least an hour in my condition. So, there I sit, pondering, pending action... i just couldn’t walk, my brain was fine, but no matter how hard I tried to move my legs, no dice. 

I literally tried to use my arms to pick my legs up to walk, to no avail. Predicament, yes, maybe at a Dr. dre show or somepin, but in my case, I was among the most reliable, comforting, caring, giving, peaceful, loving community human kind has to offer, the PHISH Kinship, Da Headie Commune, Our Neighborhood of GAME. 

So, without a mention and like a gust of wind from GOD, about ten or so headies picked my ass up and carried me all the way to the top, except for the last stair... which they really wanted me to conquer myself. So sorry to those who wished for this and carried me up, but no chance here either. No legs no muscles, I could not even lift my leg one stair, oh say two feet upwards to make it to the summit. Well, they hooked me up again and plopped me on the grass. I remember some of last tube, a lil Mozambique, some of cayman then black -----until the opening riff for push on til the day. 

In conclusion and retrospect, oh thank you thank you thank you my friends, my peeps for hooking a brother up when he’s down. I would do the same. One million thanks to those cats for granting me some sort of musical bliss that night... the opening riff to push… my dearest memory that day because those f*ckers were finally wearing off!!! Thanks again. C yaa soon phriends!!! :<)

Ps: Y'all want to contact me, it’s hovahdog@hotmail

Pss: I love reading PholkTales – so fun, so chilling, so reminiscent—keep plugging away with the stories. They are a wonderful perk for anyone who works all day like moi!!

- Jephrey