I’m always telling stories of the many concerts that I’ve seen. One day I’ll take a full count of how many shows and how many different bands, but I may need to hire an assistant to do that. But this first entry is how it all started.
December 29, 1978
Ted Nugent
Richfield Coliseum
Up until this time the only other times I’ve been in the coliseum was for family shows like the Ringling Brothers circus and maybe an ice capades. I think I also must confess that I say a Roy Clark concert at the Coliseum. Today I may count that among my many shows but nothing seemed so number 1 as the Nuge.
I was a mere 15 year old. I had given up my Christian school days (CVCA) and went back to public school. This show, however, was attended with my friend Jeff, who still went to CVCA, and his older brother, Dave, and Dave’s friend. I think Dave and his friend went to the local public school, Woodridge. I remember mom and dad’s initial reluctance to let me go but I was generally a good boy and they really didn’t have a good reason to say no. I guess since Dave was older and was driving it was ok.
But it wasn’t just an adventure to see the Nuge. It was intended to be the drug fest going to a concert was supposed to be. I’ll say that I probably got the most fucked up as I’d ever been. It started, I think, with Jack Daniels and orange juice. We were drinking some in the car (parked at Dave’s friend’s nearby). We walked by the traffic going in and had to cross over the freeway (I-270 at S.R. 303). It was a joyous view. An intoxicated 15 year old, walking past the traffic, and watching the line of cars exiting.
Dave smuggled in the flask of JD and OJ. I was a bit clueless about it. Dave smuggled in a number of other things as well, I think.
So I vaguely remember the opening act, Starz. All I knew was their newest album was called Coliseum Rock, an appropriate name for an appropriate venue. I have a few odd images stuck in my head, but I was getting pretty drunk and otherwise intoxicated. We were smoking joints. I guess the weed was ok. I didn’t know from good weed or bad weed. I had smoked my first weed about 3 months prior. It was within the first 3 days of school back at Buchtel that I had my first smoke of pot. In the mean time, Jeff had been partying with his brother Dave. Dave was doing all he could to make Jeff a bit cooler. We had all been among the nerds or geeks at CVCA (think geeks of Freaks and Geeks).
What do I remember? Not a whole lot. I learned early on that the farther away the seats, the less likely the show is memorable. We were like second row from the top, but looking straight on. I’d come to find ways of getting closer to the action at the Coliseum, but these tix were picked up by Dave. I wasn’t really complaining. I was too wasted to complain. At one point Jeff tells me that “Dave laced one of those joints with PCP”. As always, I try to take information like that without flipping out. “Oh.” (PCP? That’s a bit more than I bargained for when I started “experimenting” with drugs.) But I was probably more drunk. You know when you’re a kid and you drink. And it gives you that taste. And you let it settle. And you say “more please”. Next thing you know you’re really really drunk. I wasn’t sick drunk. I don’t think I blew my cookies at all. I just don’t remember much. I remember things like “Dog eat dog”, and “Cat Scratch Fever”. I knew some other songs but it all was a blur. I mean at this point while writing its been well over 40 years. It’s amazing I remember this much.
Going home was a bit uneventful. Dave and Jeff lived pretty close to the Coliseum. Dad was instructed to pick me up at a certain time. It worked out well. I think my dad could tell I was totally wasted. He didn’t say a word. He was probably the last to be judgmental. But his silence probably reflected some disappointment. I felt bad.
But not that bad. This was only the beginning.
