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World AIDS Day
Dec. 1, 2002
Lincoln, Nebraska

My Story

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“You will soon meet the person you admire.”

That’s how it all began….when I came in on a Friday night after seeing Grace’s musical in Holland (she was part of Potifer's Harem - perfect!) with Ellen and Alexis and Becky in their usual places, splitting Chinese take out. I step over them and find my place in front of my computer screen. There’s an e-mail from Erin, the one I’ve been waiting for, but it’s bad news - Lindsay couldn’t get enough tickets to see Bono and I don’t have one. Oh well. No, not oh well, shit! I try and hide my disappointment by occupying myself on the computer. Someone has saved me a fortune cookie and tosses it over. There’s joking about how you can add the phrase “…in bed.” to the end of any fortune and it would still make sense, so they urge me to open mine and read it…

“You will soon meet the person you admire.” (…..in bed, hehe.)

SHIT! Now what? This means I HAVE to go. My disappointment turns to determination. I MUST find a ticket, must go to Nebraska, must see Bono.

Some people think the Internet is of the devil, but really, there’s NOTHING you can’t accomplish with the Internet.

As I’m e-mailing the most random people, posting pleas for help in odd places, DOES ANYONE HAVE EXTRA TICKETS?!? Erin is IM-ing me, trying to convince me to still come, because there’s a chance I could still get in, and besides, I must meet the infamous Eep! The Video Pimp! I know, I know, I say, I’m trying, I can’t let this turn out like the Chicago incident, no way!…..

I’ve got my ticket! It cost me $106 when they were given out for free at the University. Worth it to me, anyway, it’s on the seller’s conscience now. Someone had replied, saying they knew that extras were being sold on eBay, and one is listed in the Omaha Classifieds. I put my name in immediately. Ellen and I join a group for “dinner” at Knollhole, but I’m too nervous/excited to eat. When I return to our room, I find another extra ticket for sale, so I call Laura, demand that she purchase it at any cost. Of course, she agrees, because my fortune says, we’re going to Nebraska, we’re meeting Bono.

Now we both have our in, but the mode of transportation is another issue. Mom, Dad, if you ever see this, please skip ahead to the next paragraph. I tell her, we could steal my dad’s car. He did say I could drive down to Mishewaka and spend a few days with Kristie. Indiana, Nebraska….what’s the diff? I’m not financially dependant on my parents, there would be no dire consequences. But Laura calls her mom and begs our case, thank God Laura is so good at that! Her parents eventually cave, after all, this is an educational experience! We can take the Jimmy, the Prius would’ve been ultimate, but hey, no one is complaining. We’re going to Nebraska. We’re going to meet Bono. No grand theft auto necessary.

I’m so excited. Excited? What a dumb way to describe it, never mind. I jump around and tell everyone that walks by. This is all very unlike me, but I let myself loose my cool just for a while.

Only for a while because there’s so much to do now. First, I e-mail my mom and tell her my plans and really push the envelop by requesting Grandma Wiersma’s Christmas money in advance. Best to not confront her about such an issue. She replies, wanting to know details and whether I’ll have enough money, and yes, Laina will take my babysitting job……and, yes, I can have the check.

Now I need the map software and atlas from dad, I need to empty my savings account to pay for my ticket, cash the check, retrieve all my camping equipment from home, and find a warm winter jacket. This is how I pass the time before Thanksgiving, planning, mapping, checking the maps, and checking them again. Mom brings me an extra sleeping bag (for Erin), a sleeping pad, cooler, tent, and Drew’s ski parka….and the check.

Thanksgiving weekend is a lonely time in the dorms. Wednesday night, everyone is gone except me, the two Asian students across the hall, and a student from Alaska. Two guys come by and chat for a while. They see the U2 posters and comment, which leads me to explain the camping equipment I’m packing - we’re going to Nebraska to see Bono. Cool, you’re the 34th girl left on campus, we’re counting every dorm. Well, come back later if you’re bored, I’ll be around. They never come back, which is just as well because I’m trying to get extra sleep, so I go to bed at 11. Yeah right. Every time I close my eyes, my brain yells BONO and I giggle inside. At 1am, I get up and go online. Erin is there, she’s a bit sick. I finally take a Tylenol PM and we both go back to bed.

Thanksgiving day, I get picked up from school and we spend the day at Judy and Bill’s. The food is nothing special, the stale bread is my favorite part. It’s pretty boring this year. Grace brought her boyfriend Andrew, he studies bluegrass music at some special college in Tennessee, so we watch the Down From the Mountain DVD for a while, then have the traditional Van’t Hof game of Trivial Pursuit. There’s lots of traditional cheating and the game ends traditionally with the aunts tiring of our shit and giving up. Apparently Andrew could read the answers on the back of the cards, how original.

Tonight poses the same problem as last. I can’t sleep because my brain is too busy fantasizing about the next few days. Not to mention that Bono is on TV right then, he’s on the Elvis Lives special. I don’t know when I finally zonked. I receive a rude awakening at 4:45, complements of my star alarm. At first I think this is some sick joke, but then I see the Bono pictures puttied inches from my face and drag myself out of bed and into the shower. Laura arrives roughly on schedule and we move five loads of my stuff to the Jimmy in the darkness. It’s 6:15am when we leave the FAC parking lot.

Ironically, the most difficult leg of our trip is getting out of Grand Rapids. What dumbass named the highways I-96 and I-196? When women rule the earth……..

The weather is fine besides the wind and when we reach the Indiana border, we’re already ahead of time. There is no traffic along the 80/90 stretch southeast of Chicago and we manage to find the right toll without getting murdered in Gary. From here, it’s just I-80 straight to the Nebraska border. Easy enough, no?

We cross the Mississippi, this is the farthest west I’ve been so far, and now going farther. Near Molene the service engine light goes on. Not cool. I think it’s best to drive until we’re finished on the Molene bypass, see if it goes off, if not, we can pull over for gas and check it out.

It doesn’t go out and eventually we need gas, so we pull off at the Iowa 80 “The Worlds Largest Truck Stop!” Maybe they can help. At the bottom of the exit ramp, the brakes get hard and we’re nearly creamed by two semis. Laura parks at the nearest gas tank and we call her dad on the cell. I think she wants to panic but I am honestly calm, because my fortune says we’re going to meet Bono and it’s too far to turn back now. This gives me an inner peace, serious. Supposedly there’s a receipt in the glove compartment, and if we take the Jimmy in for repair, they have to do the same procedure as on the receipt. The lady inside the quickstop directs us down the road to the semi garage.

Here, the men are gross, but nice enough. They understand the receipt, but they only work on semis, they don’t have the right part. So we walk away, but the man behind the counter changes his mind and instructs us to pull up to the first door. A guy comes out and inspects the insides of our car, he checks the brakes and the engine. He explains that there IS something wrong with the brakes, but they should work fine at high rpm, so as long as we’re careful making stops, we should be fine going to Sioux City (we read: no more pit stops, no more food, must haul ass to Sioux City!) We shrug it off and get back on the interstate. Worse case scenario: the brakes give out and we die. At least we would’ve tried.

Now we’re concentrating on not having to pee and joking about the Iowa-80. What if Bono stopped there, we kid. Funny, ‘cus we find out later HE DID.

For some reason I though Iowa was going to be flat, but it’s not. It’s all hilly, big rolling hills. There is no flatness. This leads to the next obstacle - the car is having more trouble with each incline. But we keep going and turn up the music so we don’t have to hear, or care about, the awful noise it’s making. The flatness doesn’t come until we reach the Nebraska border and make a 90 degree turn onto I-29 and head up to Sioux City.

By now, were way ahead of schedule, even given the car troubles. And Laura drove the entire trip, I just sat on my ass and played DJ and fed us crackers and Mountain Dew. I call Erin on the cell. She’s still at work so we agree to stop there and pick her up. The Jimmy sputters up the final hill towards the building that looks like a castle and we park it off to the side, just in case. It’s 4:30 and Erin is on for another half hour, so we play with the toys and try not to get in the way. We even have to pee so bad that we use the toy store’s bathroom (think: little kids, lots of them. Yuck!)

By some merciful act of God, the Jimmy starts again and Erin directs us to her house, with a minor detour to the bank. Erin’s room is like over stimulation. Every inch of surface area is utilized - covered in some poster or signed memorabilia. For a bit Laura and I just stand there and gawk. She even has one of those Pop cubes. I am still a “newbie” fan, and Erin is my guru. The Video Pimp, The Infamous EEP!! Her collection is….WOW! I am again reminded that there are not enough hours left in my life for me to download a complete collection of U2 bootlegs. Why do I even bother getting up in the morning? (kidding!)

We are all hungry and low on cash, so we set out in search of cheap grub. First, Erin takes us to this fancy place where she works and shows us a bathroom bigger than my house. We agree on McDonald’s and Erin says how about McDonald’s in South Dakota? Because then I can tell Grandpa I went to three new states, crossed two new rivers, and saw one bald eagle, oh, and the Lewis and Clark monument. Bone-o who?

After dinner, we return to Erin’s pad and unload some stuff. I promptly trash the remaining floor space and we nestle in to watch the Slane concert. Halfway through, the local channel cuts out for a few minutes, which blows because Erin is the video pimp and now her copy is tainted (not that she didn’t already have multiple copies from various European broadcasts….) We finally fall asleep with the Making of the Sweetest Thing in the background.

The next morning, I have one of those deals where you wake up right as the alarm is going off, but the alarm is not what wakes you up. It’s 9am and I try and make quick use of the shower, but I’m not very successful because I know this is the last shower I’ll get for…. a while. When we move the equipment from the Jimmy to Erin’s trunk, my hair freezes. It’s not even that cold, not cold like it was in Michigan, just windy and dry.

Now that we are in the car, me riding shotgun per usual, it feels more real. We’re really going to Nebraska - back down I-29 and west on 80. We’re also going to meet Bono, my fortune says so. My fortune is along, by the way, it’s hanging from a chain on my shoulder bag, zipped inside some plastic case I’d saved for a random occasion such as this.

I think this is when I see the bald eagle, but apparently they’re not so rare out there.

We arrive in Lincoln on time and call Lindsay for further directions. Almost to her house, we are supposed to pass a cemetery, and just at that second, a funeral procession pulls up. They get to go first, we have to wait. Lindsay calls back because she’s so excited and thinks we’ve gotten lost. After assuring her it’s no biggie, Erin drives right past her street.

Lindsay’s house is great, she shares it with her friends, but it’s clean and sunny. She even has a cat that loves attention. On her coffee table, she’s got some book with a diagram of the Lied Center. The seats are all sectioned off. We gesture optimistically towards the front block. Pizza is devoured. We agree to make a few shopping stops, Erin forgot her Kung-fu hamster toy. I’m told John Sampson and Bono are quite fond of the little masses of dancing, singing fur.

At Target there are no Kung-fu hamsters, but there is a large collection of various Nebraska Cornhuskers apparel, even red checked boxers. I suggest that maybe Bono could use a pair. Convincing Lindsay to buy them is pretty easy, deciding on the size, a different matter. At the mall we check the Spenser store and sure enough, Kung-fu hamsters abound. Laura picks out a Christmas card and Erin selects her hamster, I think it was the boxing one? I don’t have anything for Bono, I don't have any money. Hopefully my presence is endearing enough...

Someone requests a record store and Lindsay takes us to this place called Recycled Sounds, owned by this little hairy guy. I learn later his name, Stuart, 'cus he says to Bono, it's Stuart: S T U A R T. Anyway, there is plenty of distraction in his store. He's got plenty of U2 vinyl, but I don't collect vinyl, now I wish I did. He's also got just about every U2 poster that has ever graced this earth. On his little TV by the register he's got the Slane concert with the sound running through the little store's system. He talks to us for a while, I'm mostly doing the smile-and-nod because Bono's on the TV, the part where he's singing in the bathroom. Stuart pops in a bootlegged tape, he doesn't know what concert it is. This is perfect for Erin and I, so we compare her knowledge of bootlegs against my knowledge of Bono's outfits per concert while Stuart continues to try and sound like he knows what he's talking about. In the end, Erin wins because Bono mentions something about a sports team and that gives it away.

We leave and it's almost dark. Lindsay drives past the Lied Center on the way back to her house, no one is there yet. At her house we sort through the food, clothes, and equipment. The tent stays, but all of the sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows go. We start layering and by the time we get in the car again, I have five layers on and it's still cold.

We're really excited now, we had to park in a parking ramp and cross the street with all of our stuff, a comical sight no doubt, and we throw it down in front of the doors and declare ourselves first in line, exactly 24 hours early. The celebration is put on hold when one of us walks around to the other doors and realizes we're in the non-ticket holding line, oops. The stuff is dragged to the right spot and NOW we are FIRST IN LINE. After the initial excitement wears off, it's just cold.

There were two huge busses parked around the other side. I want to know whose they are, so we go investigate. The lights are on, the busses are both running, but there appears to me no one inside. Lindsay climbs the front for a better look through the space between the blinds. The insides are decked: a TV, stereo, all sorts of buttons and cupboards and cushy surfaces. I take a picture of Lindsay scaling the front of the bus, but it never turned out. The license plates are both Mississippi, but these must be DATA busses, no sports team is THIS good. There's another one across the street behind the hotel. I wander that way to take a closer look. This one is Mississippi as well. There's also a large van and U-Haul trailer. I look up at the hotel, it makes me jealous, it's so cold. I wonder where Bono is, wherever he is, he's not this cold.

Linsay's parents and sisters stop by and drop off large cups of hot chocolate. It's hot and not bad, but I only end up taking a few sips, I don't want to find out what happens when I really have to pee....

Lindsay wants to move the car closer so we wait for a spot by the curb. Eventually, the normal people out for dinner pull away and head home and Lindsay scores a space directly across from our spot in line.

TO BE CONTINUED.....