Washington DC - story by Mario

Through stupid high school depression, he was there. Through the transitional period from high school to the Navy, he was there. Through my triumphs and tribulations in and around the Navy, it was he, his music that elevated me. As dark and depressing as it was, it was sweet nepenthe to the soul. Needless to say, I have learned to embrace his music with every passion I am conscious of extending. Do to life’s unforgivable circumstances, I have waited seven years to see Morrissey. I had tickets for the Kill Uncle Tour, but he cancelled a week before the show due to exhaustion or depression or an illness — I am not quite certain. Then of course the fabulous Your Arsenal Tour — missed it cause I was going through boot camp in the Navy. The point is, I have been waiting for what occurred at 10:07pm on Saturday, September 20, 1997 at the Capitol Ballroom in DC for a while. The emotion to see him has grown in exponential figures as the years have transpired...

I drove 9 hours to DC from my hometown of Columbia, SC. I arrived the night before the concert. I actually got to downtown DC at 12 noon the day of the concert. Looked at all the monuments and historical buildings and all the landmarks in downtown DC—with minimal interest I must shamefully admit. The emotion of seeing Morrissey was making me anxious and uneasy and I wanted time to fly. I will need to return to DC to give its sites their necessary time and attention.

Anyhow, I headed over to the Capitol Ballroom at approximately 5pm. There must have already been a good two hundred people loitering the area. I arrived there, parked my car right across the street from the club in fear that those "ambitious outsiders" might come out and claim what is mine is theirs! It was not a safe area in DC.

Doors didn’t open until shortly passed eight... The club was excellent inside. I bought myself a Foster’s, sat down and had a couple of cigarettes. The reality was sinking fast and I was getting tenser with every minute. It is difficult to describe it. It was not just Morrissey, it was his music, it was my life since I can remember intellectualizing and philosophizing. There were my deepest depressions and my happiest triumphs. This concert was more than just a singer who dresses cool, has a cool haircut, and sings with passion... it was much more than that — to ME.

The lights went off and I slipped into unconsciousness. Cause dreams don’t come true for me. I must have been... I still swear I must have been dreaming. I moved towards the center and front, when the tide tried to pull me outward, I was anchored. I ended up pretty damn close to the front and center. I was ecstatic to say the least... still dreaming though, I must remind you. There he was. As tall as I expected him, as good looking, as well dressed, it was all true!

The symbol of almost nine years of my life stood in front of me. No sooner did he come out, he was showered with projectile flowers from all angles. He briefly mumbled, "Hello, Washington" and ripped into "Maladjusted."

I was screaming right into the ear of the guy who I was also crushing due to the wave that pushed me mostly forward. I was sing-screaming as loud as I could. I was not conscious, I couldn’t have been. At this point I came to a startling conclusion. In all my concerts, which have included Rage Against the Machine, Ministry, The Cure, Rancid, Ramones, Social Distortion, Helmet, Smashing Pumpkins, Peter Murphy... never, never, never was the fanaticism as heavy as it was on this night. Of course there was no moshing, but compared to the intensity of the wave of people pushing and wanting to get closer to the Moz, I think a mosh pit would have been relaxing in comparison to this crowd. Amazingly, the entire concert was a tremendous power struggle: everyone against everyone to get a foot closer to Sir Morrissey. I never imagined it would be so intense. Morrissey was absolutely fabulous, he moved very well on stage, he was charismatic with the audience and he knew what it took to make the audience go crazy. Caressing the mike stand with his lips as the lights were dimming. Smelling flowers that were shot at him, kissing them and then throwing them back. Pretending to whip the yellow-jerseyed staff in front of the stage with his microphone cord. Reaching out for hands so close to him and then pulling away as if to say, "almost there, just a bit more, just a bit more, almost there"... then finally reaching out and touching adoring hands. He began to say something after his second song, but was cut off by a girl who screamed, "I hate you Morrissey." So he began the next song. The girl screamed, "I hate you!" And Morrissey, coquettishly, responded, "Me, too!" I am not sure many caught the joke after or before "Ambitious Outsiders" I can’t remember, but he said something along the lines of, "This is a nice part of town, I feel so incredibly safe here!" Referring, of course, not to the DC were Clinton lives but to the one that awaited all of us as soon as we left the club. He kind of grinned after that comment — although, it was hard to tell. He seemed to fight smiling, or grinning much like a child does when he is upset and something funny is said and the child bites his lip in order not to laugh and to still seem upset.

I knew most of the songs that he would be playing, but that did NOT disrupt the absolute euphoria I underwent when I heard the first few notes of the next song. It was amazing to see him. There was no highlight to his set, it was the longest running adrenaline rush I have ever experienced. The high began when the lights when out and the drum roll for "The Operation" began and it ended when he went off stage after his "Shoplifters of the World" encore. Only after it was over did I realize it was real, it was not a dream, but a splendid event in my life I will always remember.

Mario