Vancouver. 1992. My third trip to Vancouver. My first trip to the fabled Bute Street apartment. The greatest vacation of my life. The greatest concert event I will ever know. My Woodstock. Lollapalooza '93. Ripped my contact lenses the night before. Replaced them with a help from a phone call from my mom just hours before the show. Had to find the only eye center open in downtown who could sell me a disposable set at a moment's notice. Nearly missed the ride to Thunderbird Stadium. Also, the very first time that I sincerely thought I was going to die. A friend and I were making our way down the stadium steps to the main field when there was an enormous crowd surge that literally lifted us off our feet. I could feel the air being crushed out of my lungs. Both me and the friend thought we were goners. Somehow we got lucky and survived. Good for us!

Also, there was a girl. Because there was always somehow a girl. I protected her with my life in the pit during The Ministry. Craziest pit I've ever seen, it pretty much goes without saying. Then we were really close for the RHCPs and it got a little dicey, so I dragged her to safety. Then she said, "Why did you do that? We were fine!" And we were fine. So I dragged her back and we watched the final act from like five rows back from the stage. What a tremendous event.

Here's some horrible reporting from the CBC for posterity. WTF is "skanking"? Pretty sure that's not a thing.

And here's a much more coherent accounting from Much Music.