IT FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME…

How I re-discovered the thrill of being a kid again.
By Kyle Doyle


Spotlights. Smoke machines. Green lasers and strobe lights. Loud sounds and even louder applause. Thousands of people on their feet cheering in unison for an amazing, man-made performance that will be etched into their memories for years to come. The night starts off with a bang, and the thrill ride doesn’t stop until nearly three hours later. By the end of the night, faint clouds of smoke waft through the arena air as the masses spill out into the darkened streets. As I hiked the three blocks back to my car, I realized that I hadn’t stopped smiling since the show ended. Despite the fact that my ears were ringing beyond all belief and my chest was still feeling the reverberations that had been pounding everyone in Chicago’s United Center for the past three hours, I felt compelled to call everyone I knew and tell them how amazingly happy I felt. Parents and siblings, best friends and ex-girlfriends…I’m not sure how I kept from speed-dialing my phone into oblivion, other than forcing myself to just savor the moment for myself (while also taking into consideration it was past midnight!).

Sounds like a great show, doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you without reservation it was the show of a lifetime, at least for this die-hard fan. So whose show was it? Who was there? Who won? And how in the hell did monster trucks make it into the United Center without me knowing it??? Well, perhaps I should clarify a bit. The thunder and reverb came in the form of guitars and drums, the spotlights were trained not on trucks but on musicians, and the lingering clouds of smoke came from…well, you get the idea.

What I’m babbling about (sadly for you, perhaps) is not the monster truck arena show of the decade, but rather an amazing one-night-only concert by Rush that went down at the United Center in Chicago back on June 9th. Now, most of you have probably already asked yourselves (and your computer screens) just what the hell is he running off at the mouth about a concert for? Well, let me explain.

When I was a young kid growing up in Kansas City, I was fortunate enough to attend some really spectacular monster truck events at a handful of different venues. The excitement I felt as a naive child when I stepped into the arena or stadium just before the start of the show was, and still is, immeasurable. I can vividly recall the delightful pangs of excitement I would feel inside as the monsters would fire up for the first time, their menacingly powerful engines coming to life in a symphony of power that could exceed the wildest dreams of any child. When the first truck out made its first pass over the cars, you couldn’t have found a happier kid than me at that point in time. At that brief moment (especially if Bigfoot and Jim Kramer was the one driving), all was right with the world and nothing else mattered. The forces of fuel, iron, and dirt were at play in the largest sand-box of them all, and I had a first-class seat to witness it all. I can remember leaving Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City on a cold springtime night back in 1992 with ringing ears and a useless voice after having watched Andy Brass in Bigfoot defeat Gary Porter in Carolina Crusher in a riveting final-round race. Tightly clutching my brand-new Bigfoot t-shirt, Bigfoot calendar, and souvenir program, I lied awake in bed reliving those exciting moments over and over again.

But, as the years went on, that raw, giddy excitement I experienced as a young kid began to wane, and before I knew it a show was just a show. Even in the early days of my involvement in the sport as a “photographer” (Ha! Yeah right!) I found myself taking my duties more and more seriously with each and every show. It wasn’t long before shooting a quality picture became more of a “job” to me, and simply sitting back and truly enjoying the show became a distant memory. At the time, of course, I didn’t realize what I was missing.

As I began working at Hall Brothers Racing in 2003, the excitement I would experience prior to the start of a show became something very different than what I had felt as a kid sitting in the stands at Arrowhead. The happy, exhilarating feel of watching a truck hit the cars for the first time was replaced by nervousness and apprehension. “What are we going to have to fix tonight?” “Will we have enough time to fix it?” “Is the truck going to crash?” With heavy questions like that rolling through one’s mind like thunder storms, it can be hard to just “enjoy the show.” Of course, that level of intensity that I operated at was something that I felt was necessary for me to do my job well as a crew member; however, after just a couple of years I realized that the things I had taken pure joy in watching as a kid were now my greatest source of stress. My how time changes things.

Since leaving the full-time monster truckin’ behind last year, I’ve recommitted myself to enjoying the shows I attend to the fullest extent possible. And while that effort has been successful to a point, I still find myself getting wrapped up in the never-ending quest to get “that shot”. I spend countless hours thinking about it before the show, and once the show starts any concept of just “enjoying the show” go out the proverbial window and I devote every ounce of concentration towards taking the best pictures I can. At the Edward Jones Dome in February, a woman in front of me (who clearly was there for laughs) thrust her arm into the air as Dawn Creten blasted Scarlet Bandit off of the bus-double early in freestyle. Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, except for the fact that her arm went RIGHT in front of my lens! I’m sure you can only imagine the frustration that I felt; those of you who do shoot with any degree of seriousness will likely appreciate the feelings of rage I felt at that point!

Regardless, despite my best efforts, I’ve come to the conclusion that I likely won’t ever feel the same way about monster trucks as I did when I was four, six, or eight years old. In fact, after I got to thinking about it, I wasn’t sure exactly what could get me feeling that way again. After all, I’ve been to the Golden Gate Bridge (twice), seen the Strip in Las Vegas (three times), and witnessed three of the six Star Wars movies at the movie theater (in THX, mind you). But after approximately .05 seconds of thought, it hit me. I still hadn’t seen my favorite band, Rush, in concert.

I had tickets to see Rush last year when they stopped in Chicago on their “Snakes & Arrows” tour, but after my requests for time off were somehow skipped over and I was deployed to Nampa, ID for a two-day ride truck gig and I missed the concert, I became fairly convinced that I wouldn’t get to ever see them live. I mean, c’mon, they aren’t exactly the youngest band around, and this was their 20th-something tour. But, much to my delight, the prog-rock trio extended their tour into 2008 due to popular demand, and Chicago once again found itself on the schedule. At 10:02 on the day of their announcement that the tour would be extended, I stopped breathing. At 10:03, I think I might have almost fainted. At 10:05, I happily laid down $125 for the best seat I could get my greedy paws on.

The time between that purchase, and the start of the concert at 7:58pm on Monday, June 9th, 2008 seemed like an eternity. As the house lights dropped and a comical intro-video played above the stage, the crowd rose in unison and thundered their approval: Chicago loves Rush, it seems. I was one of the many thousands who chose to let go their inhibitions and cheer wildly as the opening chords of “Limelight” rang out into the packed arena. Alex Lifeson’s amplifier-melting guitar solos maimed my ear drums without mercy. Geddy Lee’s piercing vocals and thundering bass runs pummeled my eyes and my ears. And Neil Peart’s battleship of drum kits laid into me with a ferocity that even the bloodiest NFL game couldn’t hold a candle to. The sheer volume of the presentation rivaled that of a nitro funny car, and would have easily drowned out a monster truck; coupled with an amazing smoke and light show, I felt like I was having an out of body experience. From the first note of the first song, all the way through the last note of the last song, I smiled like I hadn’t smiled in years. As cameras were strictly prohibited, I didn't bring mine; I'm sure it was for the better, as I worried more about having fun than I did getting "the shot." For those three hours, I forgot about all my troubles; I forgot about the price of gas, the social unrest that plagues the entire world, and the fact that Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Phil still have their own TV shows. For the first time in nearly fifteen years, I felt that giddy excitement and careless sense of pleasure that I remembered as a kid.

During my two hour drive home in the middle of the night, I motored along with no music on. Perhaps I was letting my ears attempt to heal, or perhaps I was just trying to savor the purity of what I had just seen and heard. Either way (and on a more purposeful note), I came to realize how grateful I am that most monster truck teams work really hard to please their fans. I also took solace in knowing that I’ve always worked my very hardest to please the fans as well. Because in the crowd at every single monster truck show is that small hand full of people who feel that tingly sense of unequaled joy when that first truck blasts over the cars for the first time. Just because some of us might not feel quite that joyful at the start of the show doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. Thanks to the monster truck guys that made the shows so enjoyable when I was a kid. And thanks to my favorite band for helping me feel that happy, that excited, that moved all over again.

-KD

Editor's Notes: Although I'm always one to toss in some pictures, there's not much to add to this one from my collection. My early 1990's stuff is...shall we say....not the greatest. And with a ban on SLR cams, I definately wasn't able to take any at the concert. I recommend visiting the BiteMeStudios page on You Tube; many of his old-school videos feature some great Kansas City clips from back in the day. You can catch all of that and more here: http://www.youtube.com/user/BiteMeStudios

As far as Rush goes, I know I have a few hard-core Rush fans out there reading so for you guys, be sure to check out expert rock photog Ross Halfin's Rush galleries at: http://www.rosshalfin.co.uk/rush/rush16.php
I recommend checking out his entire collection of photos, especially his shots of musicians. Chances are, he's probably shot pics of your favorite big-time band. His stuff is unbelieveable, so enjoy!