NAGNFC 2002 UK Weekender Riveting Chapters

Since The Skin Mechanic tour in 1989, I've had the pleasure of reporting about the UK tours through the NAGNFC, but not the pleasure of attending any of the UK shows. Before the internet, NAGNFC readers in 12 countries still knew about Gary's tour dates weeks in advance because of friends in England, Holland and Germany who called me with Numan news so I could report it to everyone.

The NAGNFC's sister fanzine, Paul Green's Noise Noise, was based in Manchester, England. His audio fanzine on tape cassette often featured interviews with Numanoids at the shows, discos and aftershow parties. I would think how much fun it would be to take part, but flying to England was only a pipe dream. At a time when it seemed Gary would never come to North America again, I was positive I would never see him live.

After Exile was released, Michael Ward, a Numanoid friend in Syracuse and I were determined to see the Exile Tour in England and see Gary before he quits touring altogther. It was soon after that the North American 1998 Exile Tour was announced. Full details were on the NAGNFC website and I blissfully attended 11 shows.

During the 2001 Pure Tour, I threw sanity to the wind and followed Gary coast to coast for 15 shows. John Gullidge from England, who rode with me on the west coast, was surprised how easy it was to get to the front as the UK shows were massive and full of dedicated Numanoids, many who had seen him on every single one of his tours since 1979. Despite how exciting that sounded, I had no plans to take part in a bonafide manic UK Numan show.

In February 2002, I received an e-mail from Jenne in California. She excitedly announced her intentions to party down with the Numanoids on the recently announced UK Weekender shows in April. Jenne asked if there was anything she could get for me while she was there. I think I asked for a tour shirt, but I wished her well on her journey and to make sure she told me all about it upon her return.

A few days later it hit me. I couldn't think of one reason not to take part in the mayhem myself. It wasn't like it was a full tour. It was only 2 dates on a weekend. But how would I get a passport on time? How would I know how much to bring? I promptly purchased a Lonely Planet guide to Britain which helped immensely.

I e-mailed my ol' buddy John in England from the Pure Tour and said that "it was with great excitement that I have decided to take part in the UK Weekender". John was happy to hear it and was most helpful scoring me some tickets and even offered to show me around his hometown in southwest England after the last show in London.

Soon after I announced my plans to fly to see Gary on the NAGNFC, I soon got an e-mail from my friend in England who sold me all those awesome Numan Tour shirts in Philly on the Pure Tour. He is modest and likes to stay a shadowman so we'll call him Steve. He said I could use his abode as a hotel, even offering the key to his home so I could come and go at random. This was extremely kind and I wrote back to tell him so. Steve said that if I put the word out on the forums, etc. that I was coming to England, that other folks in other parts of the UK would definitely offer to let me stay with them, too. I thanked him for the advice but I didn't want to come off tacky soliciting Numanoids just for a place to stay. I included lots of UK hotel rooms into my budget.

It was already March. To my relief, my US passport finally arrived on the 17th. I was very proud of it and couldn't wait to show it off to the UK immigration authorities. Now it was just a matter of selling spare items on eBay like someone possessed until I flew out on April 2nd.

To get myself up to speed, I often listened to live internet radio ITN news from 97.3 FM from London. It was during one of these times, when the news, weather and traffic broadcast was interrupted and the British National Anthem was played, after which the announcement came: "The Queen Mother has died". This announcement, and the Anthem, was repeated several times in the next minutes. It was very dramatic.

John e-mailed to say that I planned my trip perfectly as we could drop in on Sunday in London to see the Queen Mother lying in state.

April 2 was fast approaching. I checked plane and bus times from Ithaca to the Newark International Airport. My folks are retired and are always seeking an adventure. So they offered to drive me the 4 hours to the airport and see me off. It was one less thing to worry about.

I told my friends at work not to expect me back until at least the 19th. Then on the morning of April 2nd, my folks and I were off. The plane didn't leave until 8:25 pm so we enjoyed a leisurely drive to the airport on a cool, sunny day.

We found a TGIF at the airport to eat at, and we agreed to meet here after the trip on the day I fly back to the USA. Among the crowds hurrying to make their planes to destinations all over the world, one of the red jacketed airport staff stood alone and sang loudly to everyone as they passed by, making everyone smile. "Wel-come my friends! Have a plea-sant jour-ney on your wonder-ful flight this sunny day!" It was surreal.

After some picture-taking on the part of my folks, I hugged them goodbye and passed through security where only ticketed passengers could go. I expected much more hassle through security than I received. I got talking with an English woman who was flying back home. She said she got a fuller security treatment with a hand wand and the removal of shoes. The British guy who sat next to me on the plane said he received the same treatment as her. It would be easy to say it was because the British passengers were foreigners, but security doesn't know where you are from as they look you over and pass your bags through the X-ray. I must have an honest, innocent face.

Anyway, then I told the friendly British woman how it was a lifelong dream to finally be travelling to the UK. She turned to me in deadpan mode and said "You're not missing anything." So this is how my trip began as Continental began calling passengers to Manchester to board the plane.

I had never flown on a jet and honestly had absolutely no idea what kind of flier I would be. I didn't know if I would be clinging by my fingernails, or if I would get sick. I sat down and started reading the provided magazines in front of me but had zero ability to concentrate on what I was trying to read. I made sure to get a window seat. Convention says that nervous fliers should sit in the aisle, but this was superceded by my thrill to see the tiny towns below. Also, Class X solar flares had been tearing away from the sun making for amazing possibilities to see the Northern Lights, so I also made sure to get a window seat to see out the north side.

Continental Airlines would like to welcome you aboard. This is the flight to Manchester, England. If England is not in your travel plans, now would be a good time to disembark the plane.

I kept looking at my watch. The plane still stood there 10 minutes after it was scheduled to leave. They were prolonging the torture! It didn't help matters when the captain came on with the following pleasantness:

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the Captain. There will be a small delay this evening as we are having trouble with the wing flaps. Let me assure you they are not a safety feature. We just need to fill out some federal paperwork they make us do in events such as this. No worries, we can operate the wing flaps manually.

And this is how my inaugural jet flight began. Finally the 767 jet backed away from its parking spot at the airport and I stared out the window with steadfast excitement. It took to the runway doing about 10 miles an hour. Suddenly, with zero warning everything got loud as we busted 100 miles an hour and began lifting off the ground. My heart was in my throat as the nose of the jet slanted upward to the sky and lifted us thousands of feet into the air.

At home, I have desktop wallpaper on the computer showing the new NYC skyline at night with two powerful searchlights from the ground making it look as if the World Trade towers were still there. This is what I saw I as we climbed into the sky. No experience in my life was as magical and miraculous as the moment I saw the lights of New York and New Jersey from 16,000 feet in the air. I could just make out ballfields and even some traffic and we climbed higher still.

Just as I thought how cool it would be to have a GPS and see where we were on a map, the screens that hung down from the ceiling in both aisles began to do just that in 3 continual zoom modes. At any point in the trip it also showed the exact time in Newark, in Manchester and also the time zone we were presently in. It showed exactly how many miles were left to go and the time to the minute of arrival at the Manchester Airport.

Soon after a stewardess passed out hot towels. I looked at my fellow passengers for a clue as to what to do with these. They wiped their face and hands but as she came back around to collect them I kept mine for later.

There was no denying that we were pampered. They fed us twice, always brought around complimentary pop, juice or alcoholic beverages, and passed out new magazines of any type to choose from to read and keep. As if that weren't enough, we each had our own individual screen with nine channels with sitcoms and movies that hadn't made it to video yet. Each seat came with a gamepad to play several free video games. There were dozens of music styles to listen to or you could swipe your credit card in the thing and make a phone call right from your seat!

I was proud of myself as I correctly identified Canadian cities like Charlottetown and St. John's from the night sky by their positions. I would look up at the GPS map to see if I was right. Between Greenland and Iceland I began to see the Northern Lights. These were the type I'd seen in the Arctic before. It looks like huge searchlights beaming up from the horizon, then these beams of light fanned out into green curtains of light. My fellow passenger next to me in the aisle must have thought I was crazy as I constantly looked out the window at the night sky.

Even though my watch said 1:30 am, the sun began to rise on the horizon between Iceland and Ireland. I set my watch ahead to Manchester time which was 7:30 am (it was before Daylight Savings Time on the 7th). Due to extreme giddiness before the trip, I had two hours sleep in the last two days. The plan to sleep on the flight sounded nice, but a half hour was all that was achieved.

The staff fed us breakfast as I looked out at the farm fields of Ireland. Finally I got talking to the guy next to me. He was from Manchester and helped me spot Liverpool and Manchester from the window. We passed over a major motorway where I noticed everyone was driving the wrong way. The landing made everyone gasp as we bounced hard on the runway. I asked my new friend if that was normal. He said "Nope, the captain must have a kangaroo in his pocket."

The passengers giggled with relief and I looked outside. The airport staff drove up to gather our luggage from the plane. I noticed the steering wheel on their vehicles was where the passenger side would be in the US.

We disembarked. Europeans breezed through immigration. If you had a red passport, you barely had to stop. I fell under "other nationals" with my blue US passport and stood in the short line to speak with UK immigration. Driving back from Canada, I expect to see overweight US customs guys with mirrored sunglasses and barrages of questions. Here in the UK I spoke with a most friendly immigrations officer. He asked the purpose of the trip. After learning of my penchant for Gary Numan, he said that he once went to an airfield to see him fly. He asked if I was doing the same, but I said I was just over to see him play the Weekender. My passport was stamped and I went over to grab my duffle bag from the carousel.

I exchanged my dollars to pounds at the airport and found the train the 12 miles into Manchester Piccadilly where I could grab the city train to Gorton where Steve lived. It was great to be in a country where folks often took the train to get around. I really enjoy trains, but the rail network in the States is nowhere near as extensive as in the UK.

At Piccadilly, the main station in Manchester, I asked 3 different staff which platform it was to get to Gorton. They all said platform 4, but it ended up being platform 1. Luckily I caught my train just as it was about to leave. After two short stops, I was in Gorton. I left the train and enjoyed my first walk through an English neighborhood. Things were quiet. Kids played with a soccer ball in the street,

I passed a fish and chips shop and saw a phone booth. I had Steve's excellent directions to his house and his phone number. I used the phone booth and called Steve's house to let him know I was in town. I was a day early as I thought I would somehow lose a day in flight. This was my fault and I hoped my calling (instead of just showing up) could somehow make up for my oversight.

Steve didn't answer, but his friend Dave was there. Dave is from Sunderland by Newcastle and often drives to the Numan shows with Steve. Dave has seen every show since the NAGNFC started in 1989. Dave knew that I was coming over and instantly knew who it was by my foreign US accent. Dave said it was no problem and that he was looking forward to meeting me.

Thanks to Steve's excellent directions, I found his home just a ways down and Dave answered the door. Dave was excellent during my stay in Manchester. He got me up to speed on the local lingo, and was always offering a "cupper" of coffee or tea. I'm not normally a coffee drinker, but after my lack of sleep it was welcome.

Dave said I probably didn't want to hang around the house talking after flying 4000 miles to see the UK, and he was right. We walked around the corner to a luncheon where he sprang for lunch. He liked to walk like me, and we later walked the 4 miles into downtown Manchester. The scenery on the way was industrial, but I was still intently interested in everything we were seeing and Dave was full of lively conversation.

Dave and I checked out the stunning Manchester Town Hall. I didn't think I would be so interested in architecture, but just seeing the detail on this building lifted the spirits. You could write notes to the Queen Mother, all of which would end up in London. Dave showed me the Arndale Centre, and we found some excellent vinyl and CD shops around town, one which had a promo advance copy of the Sugababes' Freak Like Me with Gary's familiar AFE riff. We saw a store where everything cost just a pound, and I stocked up on half-priced chocolate for the rest of the trip. I sprang for lunch. Dave kept saying how good the kebabs were in town. I'll try anything once.

Walking home, I noticed the makes and models of cars that I'd never heard of. I thought I knew all about Volkswagens but I'd never heard of the Polo or the Mach series. I saw tiny cars on the road that looked like they were purchased from Toys 'R Us, and I saw cars with just one wheel on the front.

Soon after we arrived back to the house, Steve arrived. I hadn't seen him since the Royal Oak, Michigan show on the Pure Tour. I complimented him on the Gary Numan singles in frames in the hallway and on his Berserker Tour poster in the living room.

I found a phone booth and called my folks to let them know I made it to England without crashing. During the evening, Dave and I took another walk around the neighborhood.

That night I managed 5 hours of sleep. Steve had to leave for work very early but Dave and I slept in and eventually walked the 4 miles back in to Manchester the next day. Today was the day John Gullidge asked me to pick him up at Piccadilly. Dave stole away for Steve's early and I hung around to see John, whom I hadn't seen since Albuquerque, New Mexico on the Pure Tour.

I was given the wrong platform number again, only because the staff thought I meant I was leaving for Birmingham, not picking someone up from a train from Birmingham. 25 minutes after the John's train was due, I wondered if that was the case. The staff were apologetic and pointed me in the right direction. On the way downstairs to the right platform, I heard my name on the speaker in this massive terminal asking me to come to platform 6 (which was VERY cool), which is where I was headed anyway. John's train was right on time and we hugged like old friends, which we are now.

John followed me around Manchester to get to Steve's. After only a day in town, I was a veteran leading John around town to the correct bus stop and the right bus number (which I still remember: 219, 200 or 221) to get to Steve's.

Dave and John went to grab some lunch and I hung back and talked with Steve. He showed me a recent newspaper article about our friend Chris Willis who would be coming up from Birmingham to join all of us for the Manchester show. It was an excellent article about a typical Numanoid complete with picture and the dollar amount of 30,000 pounds he'd spent over the years right in the headline. I hadn't seen Chris and Tina since the North American Pure Tour when they hopped the pond to see 8 shows. Chris had quite a selection of items he agreed to bring so I could purchase them. He even threw some in for free!

Back to Chris' newspaper article, it was far better than the blurb in the major Manchester newspaper about the upcoming Gary Numan show:

The ridiculous Gary Numan is playing Manchester Academy on Friday. He plays the guitar now but he is still ridiculous.

I began to get a handle of what the UK Numanoids have had to endure for 25 years. How can the biggest daily in Manchester trash the show before it even happened? The Numanoids around me batted nary an eye, they are used to it by now. But I will add that I've since read about 30 reviews of the Weekender shows and didn't read one complaint (which has never happened).

The next day, Chris, Tina, John, Steve, Dave and myself were ready to party down with Numan! As the others weren't keen to stand in line, John and I called a cab to get to the Academy early. Dave said an hour wait in line should guarantee me front and center. After waiting the 45 minutes the cab company said it would be, we decided to go with everyone else after all.

Driving to the venue, everyone was making comments about Numan and various subjects when Steve had to turn around and drive back to the house for their tickets. Again, we drove to the venue, comically repeating everything we'd previously said on the same road just minutes before, like a self-inflicted time warp.

We arrived in the Manchester Academy. The others looked around the table with the Numan offerings but I easily found a space near the 3rd row to stand just as the opening band, Rico, started their set.

Anyone who enjoys Nine Inch Nails would enjoy Rico, but I found myself pining for Gwenmars from the North American Pure Tour to open the Numan show. Anyway, they effectively warmed up the crowd and the consensus was that, for a Numan UK opening band, they weren't at all bad.

This was it: my first time seeing Gary Numan in his home country. The crowd were hyped, cocked, locked and ready for Gary with cheering and shouts of NUUUUMAN even before the show began. The air was electric. I was a mere rookie in the crowd, being surrounded by folks who had been coming to Gary's shows for nearly a quarter century.

The lights went down and the Numanoids went absolutely crazy. Surfin' Steve, Ade, Dave and Richard walked out in the smoke followed by Our Friend Electric. The crowd was about to be blown away. Not missing a beat, Gary and the band spiralled electronically into the freshest, loudest, darkest, slickest version of M.E. I'd ever heard. Gary was at his most electric as he sang songs I'd never seen him play live in front of me like Remember, I Was Vapour, Exile, My Shadow In Vain and This Wreckage. He also played My Jesus, Metal, Absolution, Dark, Down In The Park, Pure, A Prayer For The Unborn, Everyday, I Die, RIP, I Can't Breathe, Voix, Cars and Are 'Friends' Electric?

On the North American Pure Tour, Numanoids and I kept talking about how cool it would be if he played the keyboards for a song or two. Well friends, he did just that in both concerts during the final part of M.E. and the end of Cars. I was absolutely beside myself as Gary took place behind the synthesizers as I'd never seen him play them. It was extremely cool to see.

Folks I heard from later proclaimed it his best concert ever, and others said it was the best day of their life. The lights, the music, the power and energy, everything was tight and trim as Gary's new look. Luckily, this (and London) was filmed for an upcoming DVD released later in 2k2.

After the show, there was only one guy manning the T-shirt/CD stand. Numanoids swarmed the table as orderly as possible to get their turn. When it was mine I got both a T-shirt and a CD and struggled mightily with the several flavors of pence I had in my pocket. I don't think it was enough, but the guy accepted it and went to tend to the 200 other patrons crowding the table.

The T-shirt had a lens flare effect just like the one I showed in early March on a sneak preview of the NAGNFC T-shirt. I would love to think I was the influence for Gary's design, after all the enjoyment he has given me. The CD was labelled as Photo CD2 of the North American Pure Tour. I thought it was just a bunch of pictures, but when I brought it home I was very wrong. This CD boasts not only pictures, but over 90 minutes worth of quality movie files of Pure Tour concerts from Boulder, San Francisco, Cincinnati and others, as well as several behind-the-scenes shots from that weird tunnel under the Chicago House Of Blues, backstage in Ohio and Gary taking a swim at a hotel in California. The look on Gary sitting on the floor of the motel room in San Francisco with a box of KFC as Gemma walks in with her digital camera was worth the price of the CD alone. As if that weren't enough, it also features a complete tour diary of Gary Numan's own Riveting Chapters from the entire North American Pure Tour among other items.

I walked out of the Academy looking at the beaming faces of Numanoids satiated and well-entertained. A student hall next door were full of students loitering and selling hundreds of skateboard and Korn T-shirts on the street. I soon saw 4 other crazy Yanks who flew over to see Gary. They remembered me from the Pure Tour and came over to say hello. I remembered them vaguely. I wish I was better at faces, but I literally met hundreds of kind folks at 15 shows on the Pure Tour but I couldn't remember everyone for love nor money. I told them I'd see them tomorrow at the Shepherd's Bush in London and passed out NAGNFC business cards to all of them.

Hi Jim, Andy.. robot.. here. Glad you enjoyed the trip and concerts. Looked out for you at Manchester, but with so many there I didn't stand much chance.

I got the go ahead from the organisere to bring the robots, but I had to organise the logistics with the venue which was by that time too much to organise. Pity but I'll try again next time. Luckily a guy I know through the daleks has links with Numan and his crew. This guy emailed me having spotted my robots on Your site! He didn't realise that the numan robots were named after Gary, even though we spent two days at a convention (Dr Who) last November, where the robots were on display.

Once again thanks for the link, I'll get a link to you very soon if you'd like.

Chris, Tina, John, Dave and Steve came out right then and we drove it home. We engaged in some of the most spirited discussion I'd seen in some time. For someone who doesn't leave the house much, it was interesting to watch.

We tired each other out with the raucousness and finally bedded down about 1 in the morning. Jet lag didn't affect me as I'd slept 2 hours in the 2 days before my arrival, making the UK/USA time difference rather a moot point.

I tried to get as much sleep as I could still full of adrenalin from the Numan show and the impromptu slumber party with my Numanoid friends, but how could I sleep? Tomorrow I would finally see London!