Originally, I was going to write this post entirely about Fleetwood Mac concert tickets. Mostly how they’re really friggin’ expensive. I’ll get to that soon.
First, I want to complain about sleeping. Or, to be more specific, not sleeping. As in, I wasn’t feeling well last night, so I went to bed early and probably fell asleep at around 9:45 p.m. Of course, it came as no surprise to me when I woke up a little overheated at 3:00 a.m., nor when I awoke desperately thirsty at 4:44 a.m. I have this beautiful (read: highly effective) space heater that I still can’t quite control, and it likes to keep my room at a nice and toasty 76ºF (24.4ºC) in the middle of winter. I know that it gets a little too hot in my room overnight sometimes, so I keep a glass of water by my bed (17 consecutive swallows to drink the whole thing at once). So I woke up at 4:44, drank my glass of water, and suddenly (logically) had to pee. So I went downstairs to the restroom, (in)conveniently ran into someone else in my family who had a middle of the night bladder call, took care of business, and went back to bed.
Where I lay, uncomfortably tossing around and completely wide awake, for the next half hour.
I started thinking about the Fleetwood Mac concert tickets that I want to get for Madison Square Garden (though Philly or DC or even Pittsburgh would be functional). One of my favorite bands, a band which is no longer really together, is going on a word tour to celebrate the 35th anniversary of one of my favorite albums by them, which also happens to be one of the highest selling albums of all time. And I think that I’m going to have to miss the show because ticket prices range from $94 to $12,253. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I couldn’t fall back asleep. And here it is, 5:33 in the morning, and I am wide awake and on the internet in my dark bedroom at home in Pennsylvania, still amazed that I squeeked through this past semester with a 4.0, fretting about my graduate school applications (personal goal: have everything done before I leave for Argentina, so in the next four days). My choices for this early morning included wrestle with myself unsuccessfully to go back to sleep, turn lights in the house that would hurt my eyes in order to read something, or turn on my computer and have less light hurt my eyes although it still exists. I also ought to find some socks, because even with my spacey space heater keeping the room the temperature of Vesuvius, my poorly-circulating toes are cold.
Basically, waking up at 4:44 a.m. and subsequently being unable to sleep really sucks.
But it doesn’t suck as much as the prices for Fleetwood Mac concert tickets. Those things are ridiculous.
Just so you can see what I’m looking at, here’s a screen shot of one of several online ticket vendors that looks exactly the same as all of the others with interactive maps. Trust me, I’ve checked.
I mean, I get that they’re a superband. I get that it’s Madison Square Garden. I get that it’s kind of sort of a big deal. But I don’t get why the cheap tickets are still a hundred dollars. That’s just a lot of money for a show that’s only going to be at max four hours long. Fiona Apple was playing in NYC not too long ago, and I really really really wanted to go see that concert (it was the Idler Wheel… tour), but tickets were $63. Sixty-three dollars is a lot of money. I went to see Mumford & Sons over the summer in Portsmouth, VA, and that ticket only cost $52. There were over 11,000 people at that Mumford concert, so they raked in over half a million dollars in concert tickets alone, at fifty-two dollars apiece. I don’t understand why, just because your concert is in New York, your tickets automatically have to be more expensive. I also don’t understand why people would buy a concert ticket that costs twelve thousand two hundred and fifty-three dollars. Who on earth is going to pay that much money for a concert ticket?! Bill Gates? Mark Zuckerberg? Who? Your profits from this show, both Fleetwood Mac and Madison Square Garden, will be scandalous. Just scandalous. You are charging too much money for dedicated fans like myself to be able to attend your concerts. I love you, but you are. I wish we could have an intervention, but I can’t afford to buy your time.
Maybe instead I’ll just force myself back to sleep and dream about being at a Fleetwood Mac concert. i know all of their songs anyway, and I’ve listened to The Dance (1997); I could imagine it.
Maggie Felisberto's Blog 