The 2001 US Pure Tour in 16 Riveting Chapters:
One man's mission to see every Pure Tour show on the North American continent
Chapter 2
NEW YORK CITY, NY
After being thoroughly entertained, Mark and I said our goodbyes in Washington, DC and stole away in wet clothes toward New York City. The last time Gary played DC, it was a snap to get back on the interstate, but this time was different. We decided to attempt a different way and became lost. I reasoned that DC lain inside a beltway so one only needs to keep driving in one direction to find it, which eventually happened. But both of us being men, we weren't about to stop and ask for directions.
It was about 2:00 am as we enjoyed the 5 empty northbound road lanes on I-95 heading to the Big Apple. Soon the snow turned heavier, then to veritable blizzard conditions. We had hit a bit of snowfall racing down from Scranton, but nothing approaching this. Though the road was straight, it was getting ever more dangerous and difficult to see. Time had come to stop.
Mark awoke as I slid my tires into the Red Roof Inn near Joppa, Maryland to purchase a room for the night. The hope was to find an all night diner nearby, but we had to settle for gas station fare. It was potato chips and donuts on the menu that night, but the hockey game was still on which gave us something we could both watch as we munched on our tasty but calorie-laden meals.
We awoke to sun-filled skies and the happy enthusiasm that only a day of a Numan concert can bring. Mark and I explored the rest of the shopping options at this interstate exit. We shopped for more fashion statements, found some half priced Easter chocolate to mow on for the journey and was on our way.
I had owed Mark a meal at the Cracker Barrel for some time after he found the text to Chapter 10 from the Exile Tour which I had lost and thought was gone forever. Mark settled for Roy Rogers on the New Jersey Turnpike. After a hearty meal and a laugh at the expense of the food at Roy Rogers (at least it wasn't Shoney's), we were NYC or bust!
Before sauntering through the Holland Tunnel back to my home state of New York, we found a Wiz electronics store along the road we stopped at for various sundries. It was a new store and was the manager's first day. He kept disappearing in the back to find the items we wanted to purchase, never quite coming up with the exact item we showed him the display model of. But it was getting closer to Numan time, so we settled for what we had and drove to the city to the tune of hip-hop Numan covers.
We passed by the Statue of Liberty (not many know it's really in New Jersey), and soon saw the skyline of the capital of the free world, the heart of the world's commerce, and Numan was in town!
We entered the city through the tunnel into Manhattan after which I lost my bearings and became directionless. Honestly, that doesn't often happen to me, especially in a well laid out, well named grid city like New York. Luckily I could read the maps I brought well enough to eventually get us lost in Brooklyn. Okay, now I knew the way, but the traffic was at a standstill. I managed to get us back into Manhattan, and with the able help of co-pilot Mark, was able to find the Irving Plaza. Gary played the Irving in 1998 and I had no problem finding it. Maybe it was lack of sleep this time?
We found a handy parking garage nearby. Like most garages in NYC, one has to give the attendant their key, where they park your car 6 or so rows deep depending on how soon you tell them you'll be back for it. We thought we had some time to get ready for the show, but upon entering the garage it was key time. We hurriedly grabbed what we needed and surrendered the car key.
There were about 8 folks lined up for the show. One had a keen interest in old video games which gave him and Mark something to talk about besides Numan. I had wanted to attend the pre-show party, but after the scenic route we took, the chance became slim and then none. After awhile (and some more passing out of the NAGNFC business cards) we were talking like old friends. Mark and I told them about the Pure show as we were the only ones there who'd seen a show on the tour, and had the shirts to prove it! The blue bus was near the front and I saw Gemma and The Big G file in and out and I said hello.
Not long afterward, two guys from Spitfire Records showed up at the line armed with about 1,000 flyers advertising their shindig after the show. They had arranged for Gary to sign 8x10s they provided at a nearby nightclub called The Spa after the show. Admission was free at the club just for showing a concert ticket. Although folks were briskly lining up behind Mark and me, the Spitfire guys became bored after 5 minutes. He knew me through the NAGNFC and handed all the flyers to me and asked if I would do the honors, then disappeared into the concrete jungle. I really didn't mind passing out the flyers to the new people in line. It gave me something to do as we arrived quite early to get a good spot. I thought it was cool to have been appointed an official representative of Spitfire Records. I ended up with several more left over and passed them out for the remainder of the entire tour.
Once inside, the place filled up quickly. I became surrounded by giddy Numanoids, many who hadn't seen Gary perform live before. In between Mark and I was a short but attractive girl not more than 18 or so. She rode the transit lines to see her hero that evening. I was happy to be in front and near so many excited Numanoids eager to see Gary for the first time. An enormous screen played the new Fatboy Slim video with the dance stylings of Christopher Walken to which we all clapped, and that (Weezer?) video in which those milk cartons fall in love. The crowd cheered at the happy ending.
After Gwenmars, Gary electrified the Irving Plaza. The reaction was beyond immense. The audience was even better than the Irving back in 1998, which is really saying something. Gary was sucking up all the praise we gave him and turned that into an energetic powerhouse of a show we were treated to that evening. For the first time ever (that I saw anyway), Gary actually touched hands with the people in the front row. Before then he just sorta teased people.
We left the building to the sour smell of a smoky but strategically placed hot dog cart and some of us stood to wait by the bus for Gary to meet with us. Mark and I got to talking with the 18 year old girl who was ecstatic to have finally seen The Man after which she disappeared into the City of 10 million Stories.
There was no precip this time but it was quite cold. Neil, Ernie and Jennie Alexander found us outside and invited us someplace warm where we could wait. Namely an Irish pub just down the block. After considering their offer, and some tugging and extra coaxing from Jennie to "live a little", we walked together to the pub. At this point, I thought Jennie was married to Neil or Ernie. She and I walked ahead as she began to put her arm around me and became friendly. Had I known she was but a sister to the guys, I would have followed suit and happily returned the friendliness, but as it was I just walked with arms at my sides.
All three of them were extremely kind. They bought drinks for Mark and me and regaled us with very interesting stories about their trip to see Gary at Wembley in 1981 when they lived in England. The Irish pub was more friendly, uncrowded and cozy than I would have expected, and I was grateful to have been invited here. I shuddered at the thought of still shivering outside. Honestly, I don't get out much, and proceeded to order Canadian beer at an Irish pub. Jennie helpfully explained there was only Irish beer. The only beer I could think of was O'Douls (sp?). Little did I know that it was non-alcoholic, but that worked as I'd be driving later on. Also, I wanted to be sober when I spoke with Gary Numan.
Gary must have been at The Spa by now, so we filed out into the Manhattan streets. We looked at each other in query as to the location of The Spa, but no one knew. So we succeeded in hailing a cab, only to learn he wouldn't take more than a couple passengers (we were dressed in black, ya know?). However the cab driver was kind enough to point us in the right direction. As it turns out, The Spa wasn't even two blocks away.
It was about 2:30 when we entered the club with our concert ticket stubs for complimentary VIP admission. It was packed. There was every type of person present on the several dancefloors. Once we got in, Mark and I lost the Alexanders. One could only move with the crowd in waves. To get around, you only had to find the correct wind current of crowd wave toward the direction you wanted to go. We found Gary, Gemma and Gwenmars in a lesser-used room where he indeed was signing 8x10s of himself and speaking with the crowd one at a time. Mark and I got in line near the Alexanders for our turn.
I noted all the camera flashes Gary was enduring. I would ask him later during the tour how he could endure it. I spoke with Gary about how great the show was, and inquired about the seemingly late appearance in DC after the lights came down and the music started. Gary explained that it was something to do with the drummer Richard Beasley. The club's music was loud and we had to speak directly in each other's ear to hear one another. And it was hilarious the way Gary just looked at me face to face and said "DRUMMERS!" Truth be told though, he wouldn't replace Richard for anyone.
I spoke with the the band members of Gwenmars. I told the lead singer I thought this was a big break for them to go on tour with Gary Numan. Especially since, unlike other main acts, Gary doesn't charge the support acts to use the gear or to be associated with his name on tour. Gwenmars was quick to note they used all their own gear, but agreed it was a huge break to be exposed to all the Numanoids on the Pure Tour, and were excited about the opportunity.
Mark just watched as I walked toward a dance floor and started to tear it up with some fresh moves. I just wanted to be able to say I danced in a Manhattan nightclub. Before long, Mark and I thanked Neil, Ernie and Jennie, and left The Spa.
It was already after 3 am and the next Numan show started in Philadelphia in just 17 hours. Luckily, leaving Manhattan Island was a piece of cake, and there was no traffic. As we started back down the dark car-less New Jersey Turnpike toward Philly, Mark began to express quite deep sorrow he could only see 3 of the shows. I told him there would be room in the car the rest of the tour, but he had to do his lawyer thing in Scranton which made more than 3 shows impossible. He vowed to do more shows with me next time.
Again, we seeked out a place to dine, but again we were denied. I did have soda pops in a cooler in the back and we did have tons of half-priced Easter chocolate. I later expressed to keyboardist David Brooks in Cincinnati that I was beginning to get a handle on how hard it was to eat healthy on a tour. It was after 4 am when we were close to Philly and checked in to a room. We savored every minute of the 6 hour sleep, tomorrow would be a big day....