Since my father’s car does not have temperamental doors, I volunteered it as our vehicle of choice for the day. We made it onto the subway without incident. Lovely.

And who should we meet on the subway but Fiona! On her way to Slainte Mhath, and interrupting her Stardust Mk. I reporting to do so. It struck me as we were chatting, though, that this would be my first GBS encounter of any description without her. How strange it felt getting off the train without her.

Streetcar driver with a clue, this time. Drove right on by the back entrance to Fort York and announced to the passengers that, “You can’t get in that way.” (Er...tough news for the twenty or so people lined up there, then. Oh dear.)

In we go, fair line-up in place (it was almost 1:30). I deposited Mum and Dad in line, then sauntered up to the front where Kat and her friend Cathy had been since (good grief) 10:30 in the morning. This is what happens, apparently, when you anticipate traffic and there is none. No sound check from the boys, they told me, so I didn’t miss anything. I noticed a lot more families - mom, dad, children, wagons, beach balls, soccer balls, Coppertone for Kids - in line Sunday than I’d seen on Saturday. Very good, very good. Nice to see folks bringing their children up right.

The Dairy Queen brigade started handing out what were, ostensibly, inflatable “cushions” for the concert goers. The fella’ in front of us (um, I’d moved back to join my parents) blew his up and all I could think was, “Tell me that isn’t gonna’ turn into a frisbee before the day is through.”

We did make through the gates eventually. I set Mum and Dad up, smack dab in the middle of the grass, with lawn chairs, bottles of water, sunscreen, books for Dad to read (I wasn’t expecting him to take much interest before the boys came on), then scurried up to the front where Kat and Cathy had laid my ratty old blanket out with room enough for three and staked my place with my knapsack. Stage Alan again. I’m sensing a pattern here.

Melissa and Robyn (with a “y”?) were there as well. AngB arrived, fresh from Slainte Mhath shortly thereafter, and with Kat’s t-shirt, which Séan declared “a really nice home-made shirt,” just so everyone knows. Brenda and Sonia arrived at some point, and Mike and A.J. (well, they stayed on the grass, but they were there), Danielle and the Blue Rodeo girls from Saturday - right up at the very front from the get-go, I might add (more converts!!). And you all know ShanT and Angie from Texas put in a last minute arrival. Apologies if I’m forgetting anyone. Bit of a long weekend.

Big thumbs up from my mother for Heartbreak Hill. You learn something new every day: I had no idea my mother liked bluegrass music.

Ran back up front for Guster, of course. Totally different set than they played yesterday. Ryan’s Toronto Trivia of the Day: “Toronto is home to the longest street in the known universe.” He, uh, recognised the crowd in the front row. “Weren’t you guys here yesterday? (Triumphantly) We’re getting a foot-hold in this town!” Kat and I lined up together for autographs after. Adam drew a little stick figure next to his name. When I commented that he must be hanging around Alan too much, he’s copping his autograph technique, he said, with utter indigence ;), “What? Alan draws a stick figure? How long has he been doing that? He stole that from me !” Brian was incredibly sweet, said “Thanks for standing up front down there,” with such sincerity I had no choice but to gush enthusiastically.

“So we’ll be seeing you at the Horseshoe then?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” (So there ya’ go, Fiona. I “promised” Bobo I’d be there. I have to go now.)

Adam shared his bag of Tostitos with the crowd. Drew a maple leaf on my CD, then figured he’d better tell me what it was. (It did look rather like a sail, from upside-down anyway.)

Kat to Ang: “Tell me again. What did Séan say about my shirt? How exactly did he say it?”

I’m pretty sure Ivana Santilli was on-stage by now, her music overwhelmed by the volume once again. I caved and bought one of the baby T-shirts, long-sleeved, grey, with the embroidered “Great Big Sea” and upside-down “Turn.” Still lots of time to kill before Ivana was finished; the pita line did not look long enough to see me through the rest of her set. So I visited with Mum and Dad some more. Mum was very interested in the Guster CD, looked through the whole booklet, read some of the liner notes. Yes! Another hit with Mum!

I took leave of my parents before Ivana was finished, as it was becoming apparent that if I didn’t park my butt up front now I was going to lose my place. Quick trip to the pita line then. Excellent timing. Seems Danny was feeling a bit peckish around the same time I was. Got in line just two people behind me.

Moving right along, now. Skydiggers every bit as weird as they were on Saturday. Er, why is their singer so obsessed with Willie Nelson and his naked back-flips?

And then some band from Newfoundland came on. (Geez, again ?)

The “Ordinary Day” beeps began while the audience was singing “Paddy Murphy,” the boys hit the stage - Bob in blue for the second day in a row - and the place erupted, as it should have. Huge cheer as Alan swiftly and suddenly ducked to avoid being brained by a beach ball (it still breezed by close enough to blow his hair back). That sort of set the stage for the evening. (Just how many beach balls had collected by Darrell’s feet before the set was finished, anyway?) More on projectiles and other, er, “audience participation” later.

The songs, in no particular order (as Fiona would say): “Ordinary Day,” “Paddy Murphy,” “Goin’ Up,” “Consequence Free,” When I’m Up,” “Donkey Riding,” “Fast As I Can,” “Feel It Turn,” “Demasduit Dream” (finally!), “Little Beggarman,” “General Taylor,” “Tunez2,” “Lukey,” “I’m A Rover,” “Billy Peddle,” “Excursion,” “Boston & St. John’s,” “Ferryland Sealer,” “Mari-Mac,” “Auntie Mary,” um, that’s all I can think of.

Story time, then. (*Hap consults notes written in haste on pita wrapper*)

DIDN’T I SAY THERE’D BE FRISBEES?: Alan, after three or four songs, announced they were having so much fun, “We’re going to be playing for an extra 3½ hours this evening.” Cue enormous cheer from the crowd.

Alan: “That’s frisbee. We’re going to be playing frisbee for 3½ hours. After the show, if everybody would just line up by that brick building over there, we’ll have ourselves a game. I believe Darrell is the reigning frisbee champion after the Guelph Picnic. And he, uh, he apologizes to the twelve-year-olds he, uh, well that he violently assaulted with the frisbee. It should be fun.

SURPRISE!!: Early in the set, Alan was singing away, having himself a time, and Séan, being very chummy, decided to sidle up next to him to keep him company. Alan was oblivious. After he’d finished singing, he looked over, expecting to see Séan way over yonder by his own mic and - YIPES!!! - he was right there. Alan gave a startled jump, Séan laughed himself silly. Thank goodness neither of them needed to be singing again right away, I don’t think they’d have been able to.

FIONA, I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT: Okay, so they did “Feel It Turn,” and, uh...well, actually, I think somebody’s mentioned it already, so I’m off the hook for breaking the news, but, they were (ahem) joined onstage by Guster for this one. Sigh...Adam played guitar, shared a mic with Séan; Ryan played the pineapple fruit shaker, shared a mic with Alan and nearly jumped out of his skin when Bob started in with the whistle; and Brian had set of three congo drums that, oh my God, did incredible things for the song. What can I say? It was beautiful. And, oh, how happy those boys were up there. (Remember, Fi, Guster will be at the Picnics. It could happen again!)

They thanked the band, and Alan announced that Ryan “still has not been kissed by a Canadian woman. I have volunteered to kiss him myself, but he has declined, strangely. So if any of you would like to oblige him, so that I am not left as the sole representative of the female population of Canada...”

Now, somebody said Alan did kiss Ryan’s hand. I missed that. But I saw the little jump Séan gave as Ryan left the stage.

Séan: “Somebody just pinched my butt.” Much giggling ensued.

THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE INTRO FOR A SONG EVER: Well, between the beach balls and the frisbees, you just knew it would come to this. Once again, Alan felt compelled to implore the “big people” to “kindly refrain from jumping all over the wee people. A round of applause from the little people, in appreciation of the big people not smashing into them.”

Band plays song. The shoulder riding and body surfing continues. Song ends.

Alan: “I feel we must once again attempt some affirmative action here. Please. This is not a Metallica concert, where all of the audience members are roughly the same size. We have wee people here...”

Buddy in audience decides the best response to this is to climb onto somebody else’s shoulder and cheer.

Séan: "Oh, here’s a guy that’s goin’ home alone."

Alan (still pleasant as all get out): "Sir, sir, please, I am begging you. Don’t get me wrong, you are an attractive person...A round of applause from everyone who would like to see this gentleman with both feet on the ground. (Audience cheers; Alan is struck by a sudden realisation) Uh...this is really, really the wrong song to be doing now. (Sings anyway)"

“I am the fountain of affection
I’m the instrument of joy,
To keep the good times rolling
I’m the boy, I’m the boy
You know the world could be our oyster,
If you just put your trust in me
We’ll keep the good times rolling
Wait and see, wait and -- see, ma’am, you’re exactly who we’re talking to here.”

Yet another woman up on her boyfriend’s shoulders. (Sheesh.)

Alan: "Please, we want people to have fun here. Could everyone please try to keep at least one foot no more than twelve inches from the ground."

Séan (fed up): "Look, you’re not only ruining it for me, you’re ruining it for everyone around you, so just can it."

Alan resumes singing, picking up where he left off, and that’s the end of that. Honestly, some audiences. Cheers to Alan for being so persistent, and persistently pleasant, and to Séan for realising “pleasant” just wasn’t getting anywhere and doing what had to be done. As a not-very-big person, I was most appreciative of their efforts. They really do look out for us (more on that later). At the end of the song, Alan thanked everyone for co-operating.

Alan (arms raised in triumph): “This is not just an evening of fun, this is an evening of love. I can feel the love!!!”

FUN WITH DANNY: See, this is what you get for messing with your techie. Alan, during one guitar swap, decided to give Danny a literal run for his money and kept backing up, hop, hop, hop, making Danny chase after him with the guitar. He paid for it later. His string broke while he was singing, and no amount of wild gesticulation could distract a delirious Danny from his dancing. Alan had to make a run for the booth and pretty much help himself to a new instrument. Never, ever try to get the best of your stage crew. A cautionary tale if there ever was one.

A ROVING INTRODUCTION: “This is a song about a man who is about to embark on a perilous journey. Now, this man, being Séan, decides that the only way to make this long and perilous journey more bearable is to spend the night with his girlfriend. And so, this man, Séan climbs to her bedroom window and knocks on it to see if she will let him in. Now, I do not want to reveal to much here and spoil the mystery of the song, so you’ll have to listen very closely and see if she lets him in.”

Séan crosses his fingers (both hands), adopts “Oh, please, please, please,” posture.

Alan: "Now, Séan here is, as you may know, seldom sober - "

Séan: "Slander!!"

Alan: "Uh, er...of course “sober,” in this context..."

Séan: "Lies! Slander!!"

Alan: "...is a literary reference (mimes opening book). What I mean to say is that he is seldom sober of thought..."

Séan: "You slanderous hairy person!!!"

And by this time I’m laughing so hard I missed anything else either one of them might have said. They sing the song.

Alan: "My sincerest apologies for slandering Séan’s good name."

Séan seemed to accept this. Promised there’d be “chocolate milk and cookies” after the show. Ah, harmony is restored.

ALAN’S EXCURSION: Not to be outdone by Séan’s posturing atop of the speakers the day before, Alan decided it might be fun to do an Eddie Vedder and climb the scaffolding alongside the stage (the stage “frame” if you will). Gave up wisely when he realised he couldn’t reach it from the stage, and then realised he had an “Oh me, oh my” coming up and ran like hell across the edge of the stage, grabbed his mic from the front as he skidded by and swung it around, just in time to make his cue. Hilarious!

Such a different approach from Séan’s when it comes to missed cues. When Séan misses a cue, he casually marches to the beat of his own drum up to his microphone and gamely comes in on the next phrase, as if he meant to do it that way. (What, me? Mess up?)

What else, what else? Alan rapped his way through the “Lukey” intro again, threw in the odd “Run DMC” move, laughed at the sight of himself, and kept right on going. He took quite a shine to the cushion frisbees, seized every opportunity to round up the strays on stage and hurl them out into the crowd. Bob was rather more fond of beach balls. If the man is not already a soccer player, her should be. Excellent form, excellent.

And then Blue Rodeo came on and things took a turn for the decidedly strange and not entirely pleasant. Not the band’s fault in the least. I’m sure they were excellent. We just weren’t paying all that much attention.

Unfortunately, Kat’s friend Cathy, who has a chronic respiratory illness, came up short of breath during their set. When it reached the point where she could no longer stand on her own, security had to lift her from out of the crowd and take her nobody quite knew where. Kat, being the good friend that she is, was unable to concentrate on the show and all. Security was summoned again and we asked could they take her to where her friend was. After first checking to see where she had been taken, they came and lifted Kat out of the audience as well. She gathered up her things and went after Cathy, leaving her shirt behind.

Needless to say, we knew exactly what needed to be done with that shirt. Kat did come back to collect Cathy’s things and left us her Sharpie as we promised to do what we could to get her shirt signed. We were women with a mission now.

Blue Rodeo wound up their set, the boys joined them for an encore that was every bit as awesome, outstanding, amazing, breath-taking, heart-stopping and knee-trembling as it was on Saturday...and we were off.

First I had to gather the parents. “We’re going to find the boys,” I told them, and they gamely gathered up their lawn chairs and followed along. Alan was right there at the side of the stage, but we were unable to reach him in time. Kat was there as well, though. She had talked to both him and Darrell, and was now off to join Cathy in the ambulance. I had a vague recollection of walking between two gun carriages to get to where we’d encountered Alan the night before, so off we went on a little hike (me, Brenda, Ang, Sonia, Danielle, Mum, Dad). We found the spot, waited, and sure enough, Alan came along.

He came on the first call. I mentioned Kat, the girl had spoken to, the one whose friend had taken ill, held up the shirt and told him it was hers. He asked how Cathy was doing, wanted to know if they were still up front. We told him they’d gone off in the ambulance. Then he took hold of the shirt, “I’ll take it, make sure everyone signs it.” Above and beyond, that was. I was only going to ask him to sign it, I would never have dared to send him on an “errand.” But off he went, untouched drink still in hand, and back he came, with the shirt, freshly autographed. Even held it up, made sure he’d gotten everyone, and that it met with our approval. They’d signed it for Cathy. (My fault, I’d given him the impression it was her shirt. It seemed right, though.) We thanked him I don’t know how many times, someone finally thought to tell him that the show had been great, he told us to give Cathy his best, and we headed for home.

I must say, my mother was mightily impressed. Here I was thinking, “Oh God, my parents must think I’m stalking this poor guy, chasing him from gate to gate,” but all my mother saw was Alan, coming when called, and taking matters into his own hands, just like that. If she hadn’t already decided that this band was well worth the price of admission, that sealed it for her.

We found the ambulance up front, by the entrance, Kat and Cathy still in it, so we were able to deliver the shirt to its new owner - only after the paramedic opened the door for me, I seem destined to be plagued by doors this weekend - make sure they were all right, hugs all around and we said our good nights. Everyone laughing again by now, thank God.

Whew! (Remind me never to go to a show without Fiona again. This is too much work!)

Wrap up: Kat and Cathy were able to hit the road. They were on their way to Stratford when I last spoke to Kat, and Cathy was clamouring for details: “How did you get it signed? Tell me everything Alan said.” Mum and Dad left for Peterborough just minutes ago, Mum saying she is most assuredly UP for seeing the boys again in October (Yes!! Another one sold!!), and Dad nodding in agreement behind her. Me, I’m exhausted, but in a good way. The shows were wonderful; the boys thanked us last night, “For making us feel at home. It’s great when we’re so far away.” The weather could not have been more perfect. And there was always room for dancing.

Right, time for a spell check and I’m off to Black’s, before I go all over mushy here.

Cheers!

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