Managing Muddy Concerts...One Survivor's Story

I got substantially reduced tickets to go see the Black Eyed Peas at the Nemacolin Resort which was hosting the 84 Lumber Classic golf tourney. It was a PGA event, but I'm not much for golfing. Director/buddy and I basically went for the concert and to nose around and see what it is golf people do. Here follows some of my notes on the event.

Number of golfers spotted: 9, including Howell III, who's supposed to be a golfing "somebody".
Number of posers trying to look like they were with the PGA tour, probably to pick up women: 3 (that I spotted), including one trying to pull off a Vijay Singh impression.
Number of Concert goers: 30,000
Number of girls unprepared for concert in a muddy field: most of them--hello? flip flops!? Wedge heels?! It's been raining all week and even though the ground was soggy at your house when you left, and quite chilly, I might add, you decided to put on your flip flops and boob shirt. Sma-art.
Number of girls stuck in the mud, literally, after the concert: 5 that I stopped to laugh about. The mud was calf deep in some places by this point. That's why you wear boots.
Time concert was supposed to start: 6:00 p.m.
Time concert actually started: 8:30 p.m.
Number of beers consumed: ???? Not sure. We bought them in bulk considering how difficult it was to get out of the crowd and to the beer tent.
Price of beers: $4 a can--for a lousy Michelob light. They know where the gravy train is.
Number of trips to the Port-o-potty: 3 And it was gross.
Opening Act: So sucky I can't even remember the girl band's name. We spent most of our time booing them.
Black Eyed Peas: Right before they came out, some British cat comes on stage and asks everybody to take a step back. He got laughed at. We're packed in here like sardines, moron, no one has any room to go anywhere. You either have to be a bruiser and shove your way through (director/buddy), or you have to be slim and just skirt your way through (me). The BEP played all the popular songs. They sing well live--that's often a gripe about bands; they may have a decent CD, but they sing piss poor outside the studio. The BEP sang consistently. I don't think I have a favorite song, but they closed with Let's Get It Started, which I like. Fergie didn't look as stylin' as I thought she should.
Number of underage drinkers: 4 right next to us. So we made fun of them most of the night when we got a chance. They were too hard on about their two illicit beers to do anything about it. And scared. We knew they were underage because they had no white "beer bracelet," where they check you for ID previously. And on a side note, I still apparently get pissed when someone goes out of their way to comment on how small my wrists are while they're putting some kind of club bracelet on me. Don't you have 29,999 other people to deal with instead of taking the time to comment on a part of my arm?
Number of drunken men that lurched into me: 3
Number of drunken men who got shoved in the opposite direction: 3
Number of people who cleared out from us once strategic maneuvers were employed: A whole swath!! It never ceases to amaze me when people will just shove in front of you without literally 3 inches of space to be had. As in, your shoulder bone is at my nose. That ain't gonna work. So, there are several tactics you can use in a situation like this. Feel free to use them. All of them worked for us at one time or another: 1) Scream "Whooooo!" over their shoulder at the concert. Hey, they decided to put their ear in your face, help them understand why that might be a miscalculation. 2) Get Happy Hips. And one and two and three and shove. Oh, I can't turn three inches without knocking you down? Guess you better back the fuck up, then. 3) Comment on how incredibly rude it was over and over and over and over and over again as loudly as possible. Aww, you can't hear Fergie's London Bridge song? I guess you shouldn't have put your ass in my way then, should you? 4) Sneeze. This was an accident, but it worked anyway. And my personal favorite: 5) Oh, God, I think I spit up in my mouth a little...I think I'm gonna puke! This cleared them out quick.

The bus situation after the concert was a NIGHTMARE. 30,000 people trying to get into 5 or 6 buses at a time, when the buses wouldn't pull up all the way. Pushing, shoving, screaming, cursing, etc. I now understand how the bussing in New Orleans went so terribly wrong. I can only imagine what panic would add to the mix.

Would I go again?: No. It just wasn't worth it. Now, maybe if Rob Zombie was playing in a muddy field...