Trying to understand why I feel a little crazy sometimes

Sup.  Rough Day.

So, I’ve had a bit of a problem lately dealing with anxiety and depression.  Some prettymajor ones: inability to work, random unexplained crying fits, no sleep for days on end, strep, the flu and other infections FAR more often than prior.  While it’s true that all of this can probably be attributed to big life changes (getting married, moving, buying a house, changing jobs), I had only felt sad or maybe a little apprehension at times of big change in my younger years, and the feeling now is completely different.  The hole that gets dug between my anxiety and depression (whichever is in charge that day) is so incredibly deep that to ‘think happy thoughts’ becomes a fool’s errand, as there is no such thing as ‘happy’ to begin with when I’m in these states.

So how did this start?  How did I go from happy-go-lucky guy to the most depressed kid on your net-block? 

Good morning, Sunset

As the Indiana Jones theme plays on...

Today, I share my second anniversary with my incredible wife, Michelle.  Yes, we got married on the dorky date of 10/10/10 - and let me tell you it makes remembering the date pretty damn easy!  The past two years have seen plenty of ups and downs already - and as I joked with her, we are clearly getting the 'for poorer' out of the way sooner rather than later.

When cast in the light of the past year, our wedding days seems like an eternity ago, when the biggest problem we seemed to have was not being able to buy EVERY video game that came out AND go out to dinner all the time.  Life has become much more intense at times, and others intensely mundane - but I'm so glad I've had Michelle with me every step of the way.  She's my wife, yes - but she's also my best friend and my biggest supporter.  

Sure, it was the only day we were able to gather such a rag-tag bunch of extraordinary people together to celebrate, well, US and we got all kinds of awesome food and attention that day, but it was also the end of one journey and the start of something completely different.  I'm beholden to her as she is to me and when one of us is down, the other always shares the burden as best we can - and she has out shined me in every way this past year.  I'm pretty damn lucky in that regard.  Not to mention that the very moment we kissed, the sun was in the the PERFECT spot to make our binding lip-lock seem downright explosive:

Yeah... it pretty much happens every time...

With all of that romantic stuff, you might thing the day was filled with nothing but kisses and flowers, candy, gifts and food - and you'd be mostly right.  I did a pretty damn good job of picking out my half of the wedding party, if I do say so myself:

Dave, Billy, Seth and Chris all beneath my balls.

There was a point before the ceremony when I was with the gentlemen above when one of Michelle's male friends from her time at Nossi College of Art approached us to find out where the ceremony was (as we were on a fairly large Boy Scout Reservation), and I directed him and the small crowd with him (Gabe and Eric were both in that crowd, I do believe).  As I walked back up to the chapel where the guys were waiting for me, they all wore slightly confused, amused and almost terrified looks across their over-dressed faces.  My brother, always the tactful one, asked "Hey dude - was that a dude or a chick?" to the utter enjoyment of my personal peanut gallery. 

Once the fine gentlemen escorted me back to the deck where the ceremony would be held, they led the parents and grandparents to their seats. A song that I had written for Michelle years before began to play, as a personal bridal march, from me to her - before we read the vows we had written for each other in front of our family and friends.

And at the end of the day, though, there was only my new wife and I driving home from a night I hope we never forget.

________________________________________________________________________________

Michelle,

We've had some adventures before and since we were married - and I hope we share a life full of adventures to come.  I love you.

Episodic Music: The Great Red Eye Part IX

"Clear platform one," Shem called into his radio, "we will be losing eye line contact in three minutes.  All systems currently functioning appropriately."  The platform called back, verifying both Shem's report and the current readings surrounding the module.

As the Great Pendulum plunged ever deeper towards the eye of the storm, the lone human on this great planet turned on his rear view monitors, and shuddered unconsciously as the center of all human civilization - and life! - faded away in the Jovian atmosphere.

Episodic Music: The Great Red Eye Part VIII

Breaching the Jovian Atmosphere

The Great Pendulum gained velocity as it raced towards the giant planet below, the first rumblings of atmospheric friction dazzling the camera views on the exterior of the ship - that they could survive such punishment was amazing!  Shem re-checked his exterior monitors in triplicate, ensuring that each was operating optimally with no sign of malfunction or damage.

So far, so good.

Years of space travel couldn't have prepared him for how quickly his field of vision would limit as the atmosphere began to thicken as they screamed towards the heart of the storm.  He could no longer see the blackness of space behind the craft, instead he saw a faint blue sky quickly being obscured by ever-thickening wisps of brown and red.

Soon, Cosmonaut Aglig would venture where even the Sun had never been.

Civil War of the Shihmen Woods (or the war of teenage aggression)

Our clubhouses were never this nice

Oh, the woods.  If you never grew up near any type of wooded area, you honestly missed an urgent matter of your childhood and should put this down, move to a wooded area and build a clubhouse to defend before reading any further.

Across the street from my boyhood home, behind a row of houses and up a small hill existed a mythic place for boys aged 5-10, and a place to hang out and be delinquents for those 13 and over.  For we younger lads, the woods were to be explored throughout, clubs to be established and treasure to be found.  For the teenagers, the woods belonged to them, they were there first. 

While the specifics of how the war between the kids and teenagers began have long been lost to ages, here’s what probably happened:

My brother and a few of his friends from the other side of the woods were running around being 9-10 boys.  Playing ‘guns,’ ‘hide-n-seek and building indestructible ‘forts’ out of found barbed wire and branches occupied summer days endlessly.

Where was I on September 11, 2001?

The following is my best possible solo recollection of the events of September 11, 2001.  While my memories are incredibly vivid, this entry should most likely still be considered one of my 'mostly true' events, as human memory is deeply fallible and often flat out wrong (despite our certainty otherwise).  This is the exact reason anecdotes (A short and amusing or interesting story about a real incident or person) are not reliable data points for things like ghost sightings, UFOs (and their alleged abductions), bigfoot sightings, cancer 'cures' etc.  That said, here's what a remember:

It was the beginning of my sophomore year in college.  The weather that day was incredible - blue skies with light fluffy clouds scattered about, and just enough of a hint of autumn to refresh the soul.  I was driving from my home in Nashville to Murfreesboro (about a 30 minute drive) when I first heard the news.

The first report seemed rather bland and somewhat uneventful, since early reports were cautious.  My favorite morning show at the time (John Boy & Billy) interrupted their usual banter to announce that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.  My initial thought was that it was a small 2-5 seater, not an airliner.  Remembering the first bombing of the WTC, I said aloud to myself "Can't the twin towers catch a break?"

Attack of the B-Boats!

Let's see if I keep you on board for this one.

First, a little background:

As a child (we're talking 5 and under) I was afraid to death of floaties in the bathtub. These floaties could have been anything: but were usually bit of dirt, or a dead ant from my outside adventures (usually not feces, but how can you not just assume so when I say "bathtub floaties"). I think I was afraid that these UFO (unidentified floating objects) were going to sting or bite me, and cause me pain that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I would often make my dad or brother get a cup and scoop the offender out of the tub. The floaties became known as b-boats (beboats, bee-boats; I've never really had to spell it out).

Are you Metal: Part 2

Me, being rather un-Metal

There's this genre of music that the youngsters seem to have embraced in the past couple of years called Dubstep.  Yes, I'm keenly aware that you can trace the origins of this genre to the late 90s - but that doesn't make it any better.  You may have guessed that I'm no fan of the genre as a whole, but that's how I treat most genres aside from the untouchable Jazz.  What troubles me most is the somewhat understandable comparison some people make between Dubstep and Heavy Metal.

Sure, they can both be pretty heavy at times and make nods to subjects on the fringe of society - but is that enough to make the comparison.  To put it bluntly, no.  To put it obscenely no fucking way in hell.

A call from the Nation (of Islam)

How my wife and I actually looked in 2008

I just want to emphasize that I understand the following is the exception to the rule.  This is an indictment of no one, except the parties directly involved.

In 2008, my wife Michelle and I had just celebrated our third dating anniversary.  That very same night, I got a random phone call that was quite a treat.  The following is my official account of that phone call; the names have been made-up to protect the derps.

________________________________

If I told you that my girlfriend was a defacto prostitute, you might become confused, and wonder why she's still with me if I were to refer to her in such a manner. This is a relatively new phenomenon in our relationship, because until just recently I was kept in the apparent dark regarding her shadowy nature.

Episodic Music: The Great Red Eye Part VII

The Terrible Looming Procellea

Track Available for Purchase Here!

As the chatter from his post-release procedures faded into the background of his subconsciousness, Shem found stared unblinking at the sight that filled every millimeter of his field of view: Jupiter and the Great Red Eye.  As he fell, irreversibly, towards the tempests' of a billion years his computer systems whirred away taking measurements, ensuring stability and monitoring Shem's own vital signs.

"Cosmonaut Aglig, everything okay?  Your heart rate and blood pressure have raised steadily over the past several minutes," his radio called, bringing him out of his daze.  "Everything is fine.  Seeing the approach of storms that are bigger than entire planet is... unnerving to say the least," he replied while trying to distract himself from the scene playing out before his vessel.  "Should you prefer, we can turn on the view dampeners, so you won't have to watch the entire - "

"No," Shem interrupted mission control without hesitation.  "I want to see this.  I need to see this," as he turned his eyes back outward, this time with steely determination.  "The terrible looming procella of this magnificent titan will not deter me, we proceed as planned."

And so, for the next several hours, Shem Aglig watched as the gargantuan swirls of clouds and violent upheavals of colorful vapor beckoned him tauntingly.  Shem Aglig was a tiny man, heading straight into the terrifying eye of the solar system.

Some confessions

This past year or so, I have not been the best brother, son, friend or husband.  I have become more and more withdrawn - and more and more reclusive.  My anger is quicker than ever, my frustration at a fever pitch at times.

I'm sorry.


When I was laid off in September 2011, it was almost a breath of fresh air.  All of the daily stress of my job, dwindling resources to that job and the ever present threat of layoff all dissipated into the ether and each morning seemed new.  I was confident I would have a job in no time.

Fast forward to today and I feel about as hopeless, helpless and lost as I can ever remember feeling.  Applying to jobs that will likely never respond, being passed on time and time again despite my absolute best efforts.  It's so hard to even try anymore.  I roll out of bed and the world is grayer and grayer and grayer.

Top that off with everyone and their mother either saying one of two things:
1)  I'll be okay.  I'm far to talented and likable to not be seen as an asset.
2)  Giving me advice on all the things I might be doing wrong/could be doing better

My response?
1)  That's a crock of shit.
2)  Everyone thinks they know the answer, but no one seems to have the same one - it's like religion all over again.

I know I've been way to quick to anger with all of you, and I can't tell you how sorry I am.  I'm simply terrified and convinced that I'm going to lose everything and I feel absolutely paralyzed and helpless about doing anything about it.

Good times, right?

For the love of fractals

Fractals are awesome.  Fractals are EVERYWHERE in your life - but what the eff IS a fractal?  I decided to consult the all-knowing Wikipedia and a fractal is defined as a

mathematical set that has a fractal dimension that usually exceeds its topological dimension[1] and may fall between the integers.[2] Fractals are typically self-similar patterns, where self-similar means they are "the same from near as from far"[3] Fractals may be exactly the same at every scale [or] they may be nearly the same at different scales.

That’s all fine and good, but what does that mean?  What does a fractal look like?  Why do fractals matter?

What does a fractal look like?

Imagine a tree.  Starting with the base of the trunk you have a thick stick coming out of the ground.  This ‘stick’ then splits into smaller branches - 

branches that look very very similar to the original ‘stick.’  From there, each smaller branch splits into even smaller, very similar branches and so forth to form the complete tree. This is a ‘natural’ fractal - one that appears in nature EVERYWHERE on earth.

You also have the example of river deltas and other flowing bodies for liquid, where each new path the liquid takes creates an nearly identical and to scale replica of the larger formation itself:

There are also fractals that can be simulated using computers and mathematical formulas, of which I have no understanding in even the most basic aspect.  The images they create, however are incredibly beautiful, with a strange almost ghostly implied symmetry as you change the scale (zoom in or out infinitely, theoretically).  The most famous, and iconic of these simulated fractals is the Mandelbrot Set, discovered and described by French-American mathematician, Benoit Mandelbrot (1924-2010).

Starting at the x1 magnification and increasing up to x2000, the patterns are self similar, the patterns are the same near or far!


Why do fractals matter?

While fractals were first described as early of the 17th Century, the first real practical use and description was provided by the previously mentioned Mandelbrot.  His usage?  Measuring the length of Great Britain’s coastline!  I know it seems like a piece of information we should have had for awhile, it was discussed in the 1967 paper by Mandelbrot titled “How Long Is the Coast of Britain? Statistical Self-Similarity and Fractional Dimension.”  

The main issue with measuring the coast line is what had been known as the coastline paradox.  This paradox explains that as you measure a coastline, the total length of the coastline increases without limit as the too used to measure the distance get’s smaller.  In English:  if you measured a coastline with a yard stick and then a stand 12-inch ruler, the ruler would return a LARGER length of coastline than the yard stick.

By using smaller and smaller measuring devices, you are able to measure finer and finer number of natural curves in the coastline itself.

Using a yardstick may result in this type of measurement:

Using the ruler may (not to scale, of course) result in something more like this:

What the exploitation of fractals allowed was a calculation of the dimensionality of the curving coastline, to calculate the actual length.  Again, much of this goes over my head, but from what I understand a coastline can be measured using any number between (or including) 1 or 2.  The West Coast of Britain, as an example has a calculated dimension of 1.25 (and that's a jagged coast).  While I couldn’t find if the measurement was ever made, the wonder of fractals made it a possibility.

Further reading and sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fractal

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_Long_Is_the_Coast_of_Britain%3F_Statistical_Self-Similarity_and_Fractional_Dimension

http://www.glyphs.com/art/fractals/what_is.html

Pretty Picture of fractals:
http://www.enchgallery.com/fractals/fracthumbs.htm

http://sprott.physics.wisc.edu/fractals.htm

Farewell, Lonesome George and the La Pinta giant tortoise subspecies

Lonesome George, the last known survivor of the La Pinta giant tortoise subspecies, has died.  His kind is no more.  Extinct.  We've lent hand to the annihilation of another type of living being - giant Galapagos tortoises were often used as a reliable food source on ships, due to their ability to live without food or water for up to a year. 

First, we wiped out the females, because they were easier to catch due to the mating habits.  Slowly but surely, we wiped them out by 1906. 

Then, we got lucky - 66 years after the last giant tortoise was spotted, George was discovered (possibly again) by an invertebrate expert studying snails.  He smartly snapped a photo, and shortly thereafter, Lonesome George became the most famous reptile in the world.  The exhaustive search to find him a mate ensued and ultimately failed.  We were unable to correct the mistakes of our forefathers.  

Will we keep making those mistakes?  Conservation isn't a fad, or political opinion: it's vital for the survival of the human species.  This blue world is all we have.  

Roger Waters presents The Wall, in Nashville - a Review

My wife and I had to park about half a mile from the venue (Bridgestone Arena) itself, since all of these close parking was either sold out or over $10.  The night was pleasant, in the high 80s (F) with low humidity (for Nashville) and a slight breeze from the Cumberland River.  Entering the place was simple enough - they don’t give a sh*t about regular digital cameras anymore, so it was basically a look over to see if we had a bomb strapped on.  I guess a rock show attended by a bunch of hippies - young and old - and performed by a pacifist wasn’t pegged as a ‘high security’ situation.

The obligatory flying pig

We decided to hit the merch table before finding our seats, and after about 20 minutes in line I was able to nab the last “Trust Us” camo tshirt in size large.  The selection of merch was honestly disappointing.  Roger’s ‘Dark Side’ tour had some fantastic and original shirts, like the one with Roger from the 70s, but The Wall merch mostly seemed rehashed shirt designs with the 2012 update and “Roger Waters” everywhere “Pink Floyd” had been.  Let’s be honest - who goes to Roger Waters for the merch?

Finally winding our way upstairs and grabbing a soda, we started the sojourn around the outer track of the building to get to our seats in section 333 (top tier in the VERY back of the arena).  As we rounded a ‘corner’ a well dressed gentleman stopped us and said he worked for the arena, and that they were trying to get rid of some lower-level tickets, much closer to the stage.  He then handed us two tickets to section 107, stage left.  

The mighty Wall!

The seats were ‘limited view,’ but we only missed the flower sex, and given the very nature of the live show The Wall, it wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.  Free seat upgrade.  

This is how close we were

Win.

The show did not start promptly at 8pm, despite the clear indication printed on the ticket - not that this was unexpected.  There was no opening act, no encore.  For nearly three hours, there was only The Wall.

As the lights dimmed the announcer warned us to turn the flash function in our cameras off - the flash of light would wash out the projections on the MASSIVE white ‘brick’ wall that served as both projector screen and visual centerpiece.  A lone spotlight appears on the stage, and the ending to the movie “Spartacus” begins playing over the speakers, as two officials carry the ‘Pink’ puppet on on the stage to say “I am Spartacus” before being dropped to the ground.
A lone trumpet plays the lonely melody from “Outside the Wall” in the darkness before the audience is caught off-guard by the sudden first chords of “In the Flesh?”  Balls of fire and spark shoot from the base of the The Wall portion of the stage followed by that old codger himself, strolling out all badass like.

We did our hammer salutes and mad screaming as he patrolled to each side of the stage, his enjoyment clear on his face.  He might be getting older but compared to when he first performed these shows in the early 80s, he is at the top of his game and loving every second of it.  All of the pyrotechnics were used in the first song of the evening, including an airplane that flew over our heads to crash behind the Wall in a fireball, and the rest of the show focussed on the gorgeous visuals Roger and Co. projected onto Mr. Screen and the Wall itself.  If there wasn’t action being projected on the bricks, then a stone-brick texture was projected, making the otherwise whitewashed wall far more realistic and menacing. 


“The Thin Ice” gave us our first taste of our ‘not David Gilmour’ of the evening, Mr. Robbie Wyckoff.  While I was expecting the worst after enduring the  awful job that Doyle Bramhall II did in the 2000 tour, “In the Flesh,” Wyckoff didn’t sound like a dying basset hound.  He was competent, if a bit unassuming - but this IS Roger’s show.  The ‘screen’ that as the Wall itself as well as Mr. Screen began to show us the name, birth and death of people killed in the name of some authority, starting with Roger’s father and including people like the Persian ‘angel,’ Neda Agha-Soltan.

The Schoolmaster

The trio of Another Brick 1, Happiest Days and Another Brick 2 were pretty damn true to the source material.  Dave Kilminster’s performance of Gilmour’s ABITW2 solo was spot-on.  Add in a little Snowy White goodness at the end and you have one worked up crowd.  For the children’s chorus, a group of Nashville’s school-aged kids got on stage and performed a simple rhythmic dance while singing and gesturing to the Schoolmaster puppet that had descended on our side of the stage.

Between “Another Brick in the Wall Part 2” and “Mother,” something of a new song was played.  The best way I can describe it is to call it “Another Folk in the Wall.”  It had the same hook as the other three “Brick” songs, but was acoustic and had a funkier rhythm.  It broke up the proceedings nicely, and helped to keep the audience on its toes.  From here, Roger broke with the 1980s script and talked with the audience a bit, mainly about Brazilian Jean Charles de Menezes who was shot eight times by London authorities, because they erroneously ‘suspected’ him of terrorism.

While the show has always had some anti-authoritarian themes, they were nothing like what was on display tonight.  Roger pulled no punches, and it felt damn good to see someone do this - be unapologetically bleeding heart.  No excuses: every rocket launched is a theft from someone that is in need (to terribly paraphrase Ike).

“Mother” was straightforward with two notable exceptions;  a black and white (not gray-scale, true black and white) projection of Roger performing the same song back in 1980 at Earls Court and after Roger sings “Mother should I trust the government?” three words appeared in bold red on the Wall in rhythm with the song: “NO FUCKING WAY.”  The synch of the projection with the performance was remarkable.  This is one polished show.

While one of my favorite songs on the album and sequences in the movie, “Goodbye Blue Skies” was a fantastic rendition - but something felt missing without the terror that the song invoked in the movie.  That said, the harmonies were crisp and the visuals (bombers dropping symbols like the dollar sign, the star of David, the cross, the logo for Shell gasoline and many others).

By the time “Empty Spaces/What Shall We Do Now” started, we could no longer see Mr. Screen at all, as it had become completely obstructed by the continual construction of the Wall itself.  We were treated, however, to the new ‘root’ animation to go with the flowers.  The roots writhed and pulsed as the music and flowers danced until the climax which saw the portion from the movie being projected on the Wall.   “What Shall We Do Now” was probably the second most ‘pumped’ song of the evening for me, since I hear it so rarely.  The only song that ‘rocked’ harder for my money was “Run Like Hell,” but more on that later.

I tried to get a nipple shot, but this was the best I could do, bell button and camel toe;)

T&A was the order of the day for “Young Lust,” as it should and there were many a pair of young breasts and smooth bellies projected across the Wall as the band rocked out and the stage crew slowly enclosed the band in their stage-tomb.  I can’t be sure, but I thought I may have caught Wyckoff doing some scat vocals ala’ Gilmour during the Young Lust solo (he was not playing guitar, however), but I can’t be certain.

For “One of my Turns” and “Don’t Leave Me Now,” Roger was in front of the Wall, while his band backed him up from behind the Wall.  He roamed the stage while singing the former and sat dejected for the latter.  As always, the projections on the Wall were incredible, but this is the slowest part of the show so nothing really stuck with me.

The beginning of Another Brick Part 3

“Another Brick in the Wall Part 3” took the projections to a level last seen on LOST when the ‘others’ are seen brainwashing people with a strange, jumbled movie.  It’s something you really just have to see for yourself.

“Last Few Bricks” was fairly uneventful, as the extra medley through the set so far gave the stagehands time to finish constructing all but on brick of the Wall.  Finally, we see Roger in a lone beam of light shining through the last crack in the Wall.  “Goodbye Cruel World.”  The last brick is placed and the Wall’s construction is complete.

The completed Wall during "Hey You"

After a pleasantly punctual intermission (25 minutes on the nose), the melancholy beauty of “Hey You” filled the arena.  The songs presentation was plain.  No fancy lights or fire and no projections aside from the static “stone-brick” texture.  There is also no visible band.  The entire band is performing, unseen, behind a thirty foot tall ‘brick’ wall.  The concept is so simple when you read it, but ‘seeing’ it in action is absolutely surreal.  No mistake about it, Roger’s “Wall” concert concept is completely brilliant.  The man makes you cheer to what is, for all intents and purposes, as singing brick wall.

"Is There Anybody Out There"

Two bricks were then removed stage left for “Is There Anybody Out There” to reveal two guitarists (Dave and Snowy, I believe) on nylon-strung classical guitars for the gorgeous tune.

"One of my Turns"

As the song ended, a drawbridge type panel began to lower itself from a section of the Wall on stage right.  The panel lowered until it was perpendicular to the Wall and had a tidy living room set-up - a chair, lamp and LCD TV.  His performance from his ‘living room’ is projected on the stage left side of the wall, in crisp color and detail.  The projection gave us an awesome look at just how animate Roger is these days - often miming lines like “all down the front of my favorite satin shirt.  The Pink Floyd song written in a night during The Wall recording sections still sounds like an original, intended piece and is all the more gorgeous for it.

The Wall projection for "One of my Turns"

"Comfortably Numb"

“Vera” and “Bring the Boys Back Home” were incredibly moving - the former featured video of families (especially children) welcoming home their parents from their tours of duty, often streaming tears.  The latter of the two displayed the entire Dwight Eisenhower quote I referenced above, juxtaposed with video and pictures of children in poor conditions, tastefully.

I won’t be very surprised if “Comfortably Numb” was on top of the audiences list of best performances, and for once, Roger pulled it off without Gilmour.  Dave’s solo was INCREDIBLY faithful and Wyckoff delivered quite well also, though nobody can sing the part quite like Gilmour does. Both were positioned at the TOP of the complete 30 foot wall, with spotlights shining from behind them, casting their shadows across the audience. 

Wyckoff's shadow

Roger was fantastic as well - and nobody can sing his portion of that song as well as he does.  A few bars into the second and final solo, Roger ‘pounds’ a spot on the Wall, which triggers a GORGEOUS shattering animation from the point of contact across the entire Wall.  The gray mass of brick and gloom exploded temporarily into a bright cascade of primary colors mimicking a sunset. 

The shattering

 As the solo nears its end, several trap doors on the stage in front of the Wall open and elevators appear carrying guitars, a drum set and a keyboard set-up, all for the “surrogate band” to use for the remainder of the show.  Unfortunately, I didn’t see any of the old-school masks.

A full, two verse version of “The Show Must Go On” brought us screaming back into the more militant “In the Flesh.”  Roger marched to the mic with his black leather trench coat and aviators and began the reprise full of gusto.  As a finale for the song, following “I’d have all of you shot,”

Roger, having all of us shot

Roger pulls a tommy-gun from his jacket and begins ‘shooting’ the audience.  While the ‘gun’ he was ‘shooting’ only had a blue LED light in the tip, on the Wall projection, his exact image was doing the same thing, only this time bullets and shell casings were flying about madly.  While the video of Roger was very well synched with the live act, it did appear to be pre-recorded and amazingly choreographed for the live experience.

“Are there any paranoids in the audience tonight?” Roger teases darkly from behind his sunglasses.  That’s how faithful this show was to the original run, in terms of musical direction.  Well done Mr. Gilmour.  “Run Like Hell” was a very energetic performance for the crowd - there were hands rhythm clapping and fists pumping.  As the song ends, Roger gets the crowd worked up by ‘thanking’ them quite loudly, sending us into another cheering frenzy.  As “Waiting for the Worms” began, the tension in the air was growing thick - that Wall had to come down soon.  

“Stop” sees the brief return of the ‘Pink’ puppet, as he is seen sitting atop the Wall before plummeting to the floor for climax of “The Trial.”  As the first orchestra begins this next to last song, the ‘Surrogate Band’ set up sink beneath the front stage again, and the animations from the movie are projected to go along with Roger’s lone performance. After being sure to sing “go on judge, shit on him,” Roger soon disappears from the stage and the loud speakers and audience begin deafeningly chanting “TEAR DOWN THE WALL!  TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”

Then, as if it were the Biblical Jerhico, the Wall began tumbling and crashing to the ground, falling just short of the front row (a yard from their feet, maybe).

As the ‘rubble’ cleared, the entire band (including Roger’s son, Harry and the incredible Jon Carin) appeared on stage, with Roger holding a trumpet and others holding various guitars, banjos and such.  The delicate “Outside the Wall” finally swooned us away after an amazing night of music.

The band took its bows and Roger gave us his deepest thanks, and the night was over. As we left the arena, I saw people in tears.  I understand that feeling: I was born WAY too late to have been able to see the original shows, so this was a big deal in terms of my musical consumption.  Since 1996 (when i discovered Floyd in HS) I had been dying to see The Wall live - it was so worth the wait!