Quote:
Originally Posted by vivfox
Michelle and I were driving across country that week, from Massachusetts where I had just purchased a car to Phoenix, where we lived. Michelle did most of the driving because she liked to go very fast and I was always scared to go faster than 65mph. I didn't look at the speedometer when she was driving. Many times she complained she was tired and I'd say, "keep driving. I've got to get to the Fleetwood Mac concert." I told her if she got any speeding ticket I would pay half of the fine. She got a ticket in Oklahoma City. She was driving at 90mph. (Everybody gets a ticket in OK) New Mexico weather is always unpredictable. It's a very large state and not too far from the Arizona border we had to drive through a major lightning storm with a huge downpour. It slowed us down immensly. We arrived in Phoenix after 5 days on the road and drove straight to Desert Sky Pavilion. There was no time to go home first. The band was already on stage and had just finished singing Landslide. We did not have tickets. There was a one inch crack in a wall that allowed us to peer through to see the stage. Michelle didn't care about the show. She was so exhausted from being pushed and whipped across country by me that she just went over near some bushes and started puking.
Near the end of the show I had a conversation with some stranger through that peep hole. I could see him but he couldn't see me. He seemed "interested" in me until he asked how old I was and then he vanished.
This is what I most remember about the show.
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Good grief. That's quite the story. I wish Fleetwood Mac would realize how dedicated their fans are.