I probably will not be going back to the Warped Tour next year, and if I do, it will be to stand in the back, drink and cigarette in hand, laughing at the absurdity that surrounds me. After going yesterday, I feel very old, like part of a dying breed. It would usually be my custom to sit around and bitch about how those kids don't understand me, but at this point, nothing could be further from the truth. They understand me, probably; I'm an open book if you just care to talk to me for more than five minutes. But I don't understand them anymore. I don't know if I never did and am just realizing it now, or if I used to and something inside of me has changed. Judging for the person I've turned out to be as a result of the events of the past year, I'm going to say it's the latter.

The day started out fine, with me getting up at 9:00 am. But, looking back now, I realize that something was different from the start. I still wanted to go, but it just didn't hold the magic it had four years ago, when I woke up two hours before I had to and sat around nervous in my kitchen. It was now just another day. It should've been a sign for what was to come.

As we drove to the Phoenix Plaza, a sign told us that the show was sold out. Kind of ironic, when you think of all the bitter kids that would be running around, mentally stamping the words "sell out" on about half of the bands there. We parked the car and cut into the line to hang out with my sister and her friends, including Bouncing Souls Joe and J-Love.

As we entered the Warped Tour, I got the eerie feeling that I was walking the halls of Woodhaven High School. The people looked the same and, as I would later find out, acted the same too. They were walking about in all of their Abercrombie and Fitch glory, trying their best to be "punk" by smoking cigarettes and slinging the word "fuck" around in sentences it had no business being in.

I walked around to the booths of the bands I wanted to see, writing the times down on my hand and dragging my friends to the main stage, where H2O would be playing at the same time my sister would be meeting the Bouncing Souls (but I'll go into that later). I watched H2O, helped a girl in front of me stay up so she could take pictures, and that was that.

I walked over to the other stage to try and get a prime spot for the Bouncing Souls and ran into Megan Bailey and Spencer. We talked for a few minutes, waiting for AFI to go on. They did and I got my ass kicked in the crowd. It was at this point that I began to feel old. This used to be an honor for me, the cuts and bruises validated me in some weird way. Now, it's just a nuisance.

Then the Souls hit the stage, after DKM went on. I sang along to every song in their set (which sadly excluded Manthem). I jumped around and sweated until the sweat began running into my contacts. Mel and Vicki were standing just a bit behind me and they weren't suffering as much as me. I got kicked in the face twice by crowd surfers and someone threw something hard which hit my head dead-on. But I toughed it out and after the show, I got to slap Greg five as he walked in front of the crowd. Bryan tossed a beer out into the crowd, which I chugged half of before I realized it wasn't pop. I looked at the can in my hand, read "Molson Canadian" on it, and laughed as I passed it on to the next unsuspecting victim.

By the time Rancid came on, I was feeling severly dehydrated. I was dizzy, on the verge of passing out. So, half-way through their set, and luckily after Radio and Journey to the End, I had to be lifted out of the crowd by a bouncer and as I walked away, I cursed myself for bailing during Rancid. But, as much as life won't wait, I would like a life to live and passing out in that brutal of a crowd wasn't going to do much for me in that capacity.

I ran into Vicki as I was pushing through the crowd in search of water and finally collapsed as the crowd thinned. I sat on the ground as Vicki went to get me something to drink and my faith in humanity was restored somewhat as a total stranger walked up to me and handed me a bottle of water. I thanked him and downed it as I looked up at him and gave him a grateful thumbs up. Vicki returned and I partially recovered and went to go buy shirts.

I bought a Bouncing Souls shirt, as well as Rob Santello's book, "Bloodclots in the Mainstream", which was good, but did nothing to help my jaded outlook on humanity. I also bought a Rancid shirt, an H2O shirt, and a DKM patch and sticker. Then we went to go sit by the entrance, where Vicki promptly left me to go watch Less Than Jake. I rested, and then stood up to go walk around. Less than 50 feet from me, Cory, Casey and two of their friends were standing. So I went and hung out with them for about a half-hour until I had to go find Vicki.

It was at this point that I recalled thinking about Jason during the Pennywise set. I never used to think about non-music things during a show. And I realized that part of the reason that the magic of the Warped Tour was gone is because I can now get the feelings I had there elsewhere. It used to be a pleasure I could only get from music. Now, love and friendship provide the same and it brings the Warped Tour down to a more everyday level.

We finally left and went back to the car to get some change for the pay phone, when I decided to go to where the tour buses were, which just happened to be on the street where I first disclosed my cloning theory. So, Mel got my picture on "Cloning Theory Street" and we're looking for a payphone when I look over and see a guy in a blond mohawk and studded belt standing there. It clicked in my brain that it was Lars Frederiksen. And I just up and decided to go meet him.

I will digress at this moment to explain my fear of celebrities. First of all, I don't mix well with people I don't know anyway. And if you add in the fact that they're somebody I've seen on TV and listened to forever, that only amplifies my social inadequacies. I've recounted before the dumbfounded stare I often give as my punk rock heros pass by me at shows. And this was LARS FREDERIKSEN. "LARS IS CARRYING MY BABY" Lars. The guy who sings the song I have a tattoo of. So, when all of this piled up, it threw my friends off when I non-chalantly said, "Let's go meet Lars."

But we did and I showed him my tattoo, which he said was cool and meant a lot to him. I also told him of my sister's mohawk and got a picture with him. And we hung around for awhile while he astounded us with his mind reading capabilities. The guy's a fucking genius. What can I say? Then, Mel looked over and saw Brett Red standing there and I thought, "Hell, I'm on a roll, why not?" So I went and got a picture with my personal drum hero himself.

Finally, they kicked us out for not having passes and we went home. I came in, finally told my mom about my smoking habit and then relayed the whole story to her. And I read, "Bloodclots in the Mainstream" as I waited for Meg to get home so I could tell her the story.

At 1:30, they finally pulled up. She came in and told me of her meeting with the Bouncing Souls, which went like this:

Before the show, I took a flier they were passing out and wrote, "WILL STRIP FOR THE BOUNCING SOULS" on it and later added, "P.S. GREG, CALL MY SISTER" as it was pinned to Megan's shirt. Later in the day, she went to go buy a Souls shirt and found out they were having a signing there in 20 minutes. So, she stands in line and gets up to the table and slaps the sign down in front of Bryan. He reads it, looks up at her, and asks in a confused voice, "You want me to sign this?"

She nods emphatically. "My sister MADE me wear that all day," she disclosed as he's signing it. This isn't true, I merely suggested it, but we'll move on.

"And you actually wore it?" he asked her.

"Yeah!"

He picks up a copy of their new CD. "Here. You deserve this," he says. She gives him a hug and is ready to move on to The Pete as he stops her and signs a poster for her too.

She moves on down the line with her sign and finally comes to Greg. My Greg. Greg "Rachel's Future Husband" Attonito. He takes it, reads it, and signs it by the P.S. with "Gregory... ok", as in "Ok, I'll call your sister." She looks at him and says, "No, really. You have to call my sister." He gives her an odd look, says ok, and she moves on.

I am now the sole possessor of the sign on which Greg says he'll call me. Megan kept the poster.

So that was my experience with the Warped Tour 2001. Not nearly all it was cracked up to be, but it had it's good points. I'm jealous of Megan because she got to meet Greg, even though if I had it to do over again, I'd still go watch H2O. And Megan is jealous of me because I got to "hang out with Lars."

Now that Warped Tour is over with, summer is officially coming to a close. And we're all preparing to go back to school. Then, it's all over. High school is all over. But I'm ready. Surprising, but I'm ready.