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After road tripping to more than ten concerts or music festivals, I can officially say yesterday was both the least and most lucky trip I’ve ever experienced. But how can one day hit both sides of the luck pendulum, you ask? Because even my least lucky day usually ends up working out anyways — and so begins the story of the Motion City Soundtrack trip.

Let’s start out with my lost tickets. On December 8TH I bought two tickets from Ticketmaster. Those tickets never showed up. This was a first for me. I’ve always ordered and had my tickets delivered from Ticketmaster via USPS with no problems. After a couple phone calls and email exchanges I finally got my tickets changed to TicketFast so I could just print them out. Alright, obstacle one down.

Next up? The weather. This is only the second time I’ve ever assembled a group for a show in the winter, the first being The Matches opening for +44 at the same venue. There are good reasons to avoid winter shows, including but not limited to ice, snow, freezing rain, frigid temperatures, long lines in frigid temperatures, getting to the venue in the madness, and expensive coat-checks in which you gamble even getting your jacket back. So checking the weather for both Iowa and Minnesota became a twice-daily ritual. Again, we lucked out. Temperatures stayed above freezing. It was wet outside but not dangerous. Good news.

So we all committed to going. We meet up, we get on the road and we head west towards a town just off I35 to pick up another friend. A hour and a half later we arrive at a truck stop. Someone puts down a window. Said window doesn’t go back up. We try to guide the window up. The window falls off the tracking and is down for the count. Oh shit. It’s raining. It’s 35 degrees. What the hell do we do now? We procure duct tape and a garbage bag from the friendly truck stop. Doesn’t work. Fails catastrophically, actually, shortly after we’re back on the road. We search for another gas station and the second group following us saves the day with a towel. I kid you not, one of them gets out of the car and hands us a towel. Our ghetto cruiser officially becomes white trash.

We can make this work. So we’re off again, we spend a little more time on the road and then as we approach the cities we begin to get stuff ready. Some of us take a quick glance at our tickets to make sure they’re there. They are not. Someone is officially down one ticket. This is also a first. We often, believe it or not, have had extra tickets for shows. We’ve always had everyone covered one way or another. But we continue on. I’m confident things will some how work out. A little stressed, but confident.

We find a parking ramp a block away from the venue and park four floors up. Then we make our way to the elevator lobby and try attempt number one to fix the ticket fiasco, which is having the person that forgot their tickets call Ticketmaster to see if they can get the order changed to will-call. We’ve done this before, it’s a pretty simple process, and I’m certain it’ll work. It does not. After spending a huge chunk of time on hold, confirming he is who he says he is, and providing order numbers (his receipt, unlike his tickets, was still in the otherwise empty envelope), the jackass at Ticketmaster couldn’t press a few keys to assist someone who just traveled a few hours out of state. Awesome. I remain optimistic, though my confidence is admittedly shaken up.

We head towards the Hard Rock across the street from First-Avenue to grab some dinner before the show and avoid the growing line. People who stand in lines are suckers. I should know, I’ve frequently stood in lines. Once you’re inside a venue, you can make your way through the crowd to just about anywhere you want, but even then you’ll most likely bail on your awesome front-row, center spot when the crowd attempts to kill you. The energy will always be awesome, but it’s only tolerable for so long.

Two of our party split up to see if they can get a hold of a manager at the club, an unlikely chance at best. They do come across a couple of empathetic doormen who tell them they have a 50/50 chance of working with the venue and Ticketmaster in conjunction to get the ticket order changed, but they’ll have to come back after the doors open. They meet back up with us somewhat uplifted. 50/50 is better than 0/100.

We head to the venue slightly after the entire line has shuffled in. We wait inside the door while the last member of our group tries to reason with the front desk. He has his receipts and identification. The lady working the desk finally says he can purchase another ticket to get in. Hey — out another $18.50, but at least he gets in, right?

But no. Because this is both the least and most lucky day for a concert, it’s even better. Another lady taking tickets pulls him aside before he has a chance to buy anything, stamps his hand, and he gets in without any physical ticket what-so-ever. Thank you random stranger.

So in the end we caught awesome sets by bands I hadn’t been into (The Swellers, This Providence, and Set Your Goals) and a crazy kick off for Motion City Soundtrack’s tour in support of their new album My Dinosaur Life. MCS played stuff from all four of their full-lengths and even an earlier track from one of their first EPs.

And that stupid window? It came up on the ride home. Because everything works out in the end.

Motion City Soundtrack Set

Worker Bee
My Favorite Accident
Everything is alright
Delerium
Last night
Cambridge
Shiver
Disappear
Time Turned Fragile
Motherfucker
This is for real
Capital H
A Lifeless Ordinary
Make Out Kids
Her Words Destroyed My Planet
L.G. FUAD

Encore:
Even If It Kills Me
Throwdown
The Future Freaks Me Out