With the announcement of a new AC/DC album and hopefully tour, I got to
thinking about the last time I saw AC/DC.
In early February of 2001 due to my own stupidity I
got arrested for DWI. I quickly retained a well-known shifty lawyer named
Jerry Krauss to handle my case, but the whole process was a monumental pain in
the ass. I eventually got it reduced to
a reckless driving ticket, but the following illustrates one of the millions of
reasons why drinking and driving should never be an option for you. One of the many things
that had to happen to get it all behind me was that I had to officially turn
myself into the Hennepin County Jail and spend a night. My lawyer and I
set the date for Monday, April 9th, 2001.
A few weeks before this dreaded day I was in the car with my girlfriend at the time Karen. We were listening to 92 KQRS on the radio when they announced that they were giving away a pair of AC/DC tickets to the 20th caller. AC/DC is one of my all-time favorite bands so I called in and lo and behold I won! I had been feeling sick about the whole arrest thing which was constantly weighing heavily on my mind, so when I was told that I had won I said live on the radio: “Holy sh*t! You have no idea how much I needed some good news right now! Thank you!”
A few weeks before this dreaded day I was in the car with my girlfriend at the time Karen. We were listening to 92 KQRS on the radio when they announced that they were giving away a pair of AC/DC tickets to the 20th caller. AC/DC is one of my all-time favorite bands so I called in and lo and behold I won! I had been feeling sick about the whole arrest thing which was constantly weighing heavily on my mind, so when I was told that I had won I said live on the radio: “Holy sh*t! You have no idea how much I needed some good news right now! Thank you!”
I was ecstatic until I realized that the concert was
on the same night I had to turn myself into lockup for the night. Dammit!
It might still work though. My lawyer said that in order to minimize the
actual time spent in the horrible place, you just have to present yourself
anytime before midnight. I could show up at 11:59 pm and still get credit
for having been there on that day. The concert was in downtown St. Paul
and the jail was in downtown Minneapolis. It would be close, but I
decided I could make it. I quickly called my best friend Mitch Marshall
and he was in. We had great seats to see one of our favorite bands on the
night I had to go to jail.
Now we just had to figure out the logistics.
We set the time limit for me to be out of the concert by 11 pm. That
should give me enough time to get from St. Paul to Minneapolis and all checked
into jail by midnight. Our buddy Al Sedaka lives in St. Paul so we
enlisted his help. Mitch would pick me up at my condo in Plymouth and
drive us to the concert. At 11 pm, no matter where AC/DC was in their
concert I would leave the show and meet Al out front on the curb. He
would then drive me to jail. Theoretically I would check in, go to sleep,
get up in the morning, go to court with my lawyer, post bail, then leave.
Our buddy Arnie Hagen would then pick me up and bring me home. If it was
early enough I would then go into work on that Tuesday morning. I would
be tired, but happy to be out of jail. I told my boss I would probably be
late and she was fine with that.
So Mitch picked me up on the evening of 4/9/01 and
we got to the concert in plenty of time for the 8 pm start. Our tickets
were awesome…about 10th row on the floor, a couple of seats in from
the center walkway that the singer Brian Johnson and the guitarist Angus Young
would use to run up and down on throughout the concert. Yes! The
concert blew us away of course…it’s f*cking AC/DC! In the words of Eddie
Van Halen from the first time he saw them back in the 70’s when Van Halen
opened up for AC/DC: “They really
only play one song, but it’s a great song.” Brian’s voice
sounded perfect, even on the old Bon Scott songs, and all night schoolboy-Angus
ran all over the stage as well as up and down the walkway just a few feet from
us.
While it was a great concert, I had this whole
f*cking JAIL thing hanging over my head all night. I had no idea
what it was going to be like, but I knew it was not going to be pleasant.
I kept checking the time, hoping the concert would end before 11 pm.
Finally the main part of the show ended…time for the encore. It was 10:45
pm…going to be close. They broke into ‘T.N.T’, but I had to be outside to
meet Al by 11 pm. For almost every AC/DC concert since the early 80’s,
the final song is always ‘For Those About To Rock, We Salute You’. When they started that next I knew the
concert was ending and it was time for me to leave. I solemnly said
goodbye to Mitch and made my way off the floor up to the first level. I
slowly backed up the stairs while watching the song come to a close. If
you know the song you know it ends with a bunch of cannons going off.
“For those about to rock…FIRE! (cannons go off) We salute
you!” And if you have ever seen it in concert you know that a row of
cannons appear onstage and they fire off…on cue at first with every yell
of: “Fire!”, and then they just go off like crazy one after another to end
the concert. It seemed fitting that my last view of the stage was the
cannons being wheeled out onto stage, and the last sounds I heard as I made my
way to the exit were the cannons firing while Brian was screaming: “Fire!
Fire! Fire!..." It was almost as if they were
saying: “For those about to go to jail, we salute you!”
With Angus’s blistering solos and the cannons still
ringing in my ears, I got into the front seat of Al’s car and began the half
hour drive to an uncertain fate. I was a little worried that I had beer
on my breathe, but I was sure that the one beer I had many hours ago at the
beginning of the concert would not register if they decided to breathalyzer
me. I knocked on the door, they let me in and took all my name and
information and then led me to a large gross room full of f*cked-up
degenerates. This is not where I was spending the night was
it?! I took one look in this hell-hole and the guard assured me it is
just a holding cell to keep me until they can process me in for the
night. He motioned me inside and then closed the big metal door shut
behind me. Dread. Horror. I had just turned 35 a week
ago. Was this really where I was supposed to be in my life?! I
looked around hoping there was a nice quiet corner for me hide in until the
guard came back for me. There was not. Everyone stared at the new
guy and my heart sank as I looked around at the 30 foot by 10 foot main room,
with another smaller 8 by 10 foot room attached that served as the
bathroom.
The main room had a bench that ran the length of one
side, but it was covered with drunks, dealers, gangbangers and shady
looking characters who looked like they would just as soon shoot me than move
over and let me sit down. Not only was there not really anywhere to sit,
but there was hardly any room to stand. There must have been 50 people crowded
into that dirty brick room with grime and snot and what looked like blood and
sh*t on the walls. “Excuse me…excuse me…” I whispered as I made my way
through the late-night wretches to the back of the room. I had to step around
one young guy who was rolling around on the floor yelping complete
gibberish. When I got to the other side near the entrance to the
‘bathroom’, I stopped for a bit and looked back at the floor-guy, trying to
figure out what his deal was. A guy next to me noticed my fearful,
inquisitive face and he mumbled: “Don’t worry about him…he’s just
tripping on acid.” I nodded in agreement that he was on something, but I
doubted very much that it was acid. I watched for awhile, but I needed
something to lean on. I couldn’t just stand there for who-knows how long.
I was near the opening to the bathroom area.
It was really just a smaller version of the main room, but it instead of a
bench on one side it had one urinal and a toilet sticking out of the
wall. No walls, no privacy, just a small open room filled with people as
well…the overflow from the main room. I peered in and noted there was a
place to stand by the urinal which was right by the bathroom entrance…near the
space between the two rooms. I made my way over to it and put my right
arm on the top of the urinal. At last, something to lean on. No
place to sit (unless I wanted to join the drugged out guy on the floor or sit
on the disgusting toilet) but at least I had my own space to lean. I
decided I would just hang out there, keep my head down and wait for them to
call my name.
Suddenly I heard a slow, deliberate, menacing
voice. It seemed to be aimed at me. I looked up and there were
three black dudes about 10 feet away staring at me. One of them slowly
repeated: “I said mother*cker,
are you throwing some signs at us?” My eyes opened wide with shock
and fear. Signs? What the hell is a sign?? It was
then I happened to notice my right hand. With my right arm resting on the
top of the urinal my right hand was just dangling in space. Were my
fingers dangling in such a way that they looked like a sign?
Gang signs
or something? I then remembered a show I had half-watched on cable
TV about gangs and how they communicated or identified themselves with
signs. Oh sh*t…was I unwittingly ‘signing’? Was I telling these
guys to f*ck off in sign language or telling them that I was in a rival
gang?! I quickly put my hand down to my side and said the first thing
that popped into my head: “No…no!
I don’t know
any signs. Uh…I know some cool websites though!”
They all stared at me, trying to figure out what my game was. I had no
game. I was just some stupid white boy stammering hopefully about
websites. After about 20 seconds of silence I think they decided that I
was a weirdo and they left me alone. Phew.
After about 15 minutes of standing there I got the
courage to put my arm back up on the urinal, this time with my hand in a loose
fist…NOT in any way shape or form what I thought might look like a sign.
Guys came and guys left the holding cell, and I just stood there waiting
my turn. Finally after about an hour I heard my name called. Thank god I
whispered. They took me and three other guys to the booking area where
they strip-searched us, exchanged our clothes for orange jail jumpsuits,
took our pictures and fingerprinted us. It was not fun, but at least I
was out of the hell-room. This was progress! I hoped I would get my
own jail cell, catch a few hours of sleep and be on my way in the
morning. The other guys looked nervous and made weak jokes, but they
seemed like they had been there before. One of them was worried about his
diabetes medication. After getting
booked they handed us each a pillow and a blanket and led us through a series
of hallways until we reached a large dorm room. Oh no…I was not getting
my own cell. I was going to sleep with about 100 other guys in a big room
filled with rows of bunk beds and one toilet sitting at the end of the
room. This toilet was behind a 3-foot wall, so you had the tiniest bit of
privacy, but everyone could still see your head. Thank god I didn’t have to poop. Now
that I think about it, I don’t think I even peed in there.
I managed to get a bottom bunk, laid down and
pretended to sleep. It was noisy with guys talking and yelling and
rapping all night so there would be no sleep. Eventually the sun came up
and began to shine through the barred windows. Finally. Jail is
really nothing more than a lot of waiting. Trying not to get in anyone’s
way or be noticed by anyone...and waiting. Eventually they called my name.
Time for court. Wearing my orange
jumpsuit I already felt ‘guilty’, but to my relief they let me change back into
my street clothes on the way to the courtroom. Cool. I almost felt
like a real person again. I got in the courtroom and looked around for
Jerry. Not there. Instead I heard a female call out my name as she
walked towards me. It was Jerry’s assistant, Rachael Goldbloom. I was a little nervous about that but she
said this was no big deal, just a formality and Jerry did not need to be
here. The judge would set the real court date in the future, the bail
bondsman that Jerry had sent over would post my bail, and I would be out of there
in a little bit.
The judge did indeed set a future court date and
Rachael left, telling me my bail would be posted shortly. It wasn’t going to be right away?
Really?? Crap. They led me back to the booking area, took my
clothes away and gave me another orange jumpsuit and took me back to the dorm
room. Was all this really necessary? I was going to be out in a few
minutes. I started to panic but trusted that it would go down just like
Rachael said. I waited an hour…two hours…three hours. What the hell
was taking so long?! I finally managed to talk the guard into letting me go
make a phone call. I called Jerry’s office and Rachael answered.
She asked why I was still in jail and I yelled that I was wondering the same
thing! She said to sit tight…she put me on hold…she came back and told me
that the bail bondsman had come to the jail that morning but was told that I
had already been let out so he left. No!! Well get him back I
shouted! She said he was extremely busy but he would try and get back
there later that day. No! He must come now! I was
really starting to freak out but she said she would get me out as soon as
possible.
I went to lunch…still nothing. Back to the
room...nothing. I made small talk with a guy in the next bunk. We
talked for awhile but then he got bailed out and left. Did they forget
about me?? What if I had to stay in there forever? I was allowed to
use the phone again. I called my boss to let her know I was not going to
be in that day. I called Rachael. She was not there. Then it
was time for dinner. I was so sick from worry I could not eat. My
mind raced. Should I try and
escape? Maybe through a ventilation
shaft like in the movies? They would
probably never miss me since I had apparently been forgotten. Then I thought of the AC/DC song
‘Jailbreak’. That guy made it out…with a bullet in his back. I’ll just stay put. After a couple more hours they moved me to a
smaller room with only about 20 guys in it. Lights out in an hour at 10
pm. What the f*ck? Was I going to have to spend another night
in here? I made my bed and laid down as they were making final rounds
while turning off the lights. I wanted to cry. This was wrong. Suddenly I heard my name called. I
thought I was dreaming. I ran to the door tripping over my feet. What?? I was being bailed out the guard
said! I was trembling with relief. I could not get out of there
fast enough.
I got my clothes back and I was never so happy to
put on an old set of dirty clothes. I called Arnie and told him I
was finally able to leave. He came and picked me up on the street corner
outside of jail and within 20 minutes I was walking down the hallway to the
door of my condo. It was 24 hours after the AC/DC concert had ended
and it had been the longest day of my life. I was dead tired and
immediately fell asleep, happy that another big step in getting through the
ordeal was over. I have not seen AC/DC since then, but I plan on
seeing them when they come through on the next tour for their upcoming album -
'Rock Or Bust'. I am sure it will be a great show and I hope Mitch comes
with, but it will never match the surreal feeling I had seeing them in 2001
knowing the concert was only the beginning of my night.
Again…do not drink and drive.
Xcel Center – St. Paul, MN
- You Shook Me
All Night Long
- Stiff Upper
Lip
- Shot Down In
Flames
- Thunderstruck
- Hell Ain't A
Bad Place To Be
- Hard As A
Rock
- Shoot To
Thrill
- Rock And
Roll Ain't Noise Pollution
- Safe In New
York City
- Bad Boy
Boogie
- Hells Bells
- Get It Hot
- The Jack
- Back In
Black
- Dirty Deeds
Done Dirt Cheap
- Highway To
Hell
- Whole Lotta
Rosie
- Let There Be Rock
Encore:
There was a friend of mine on murder
And the judge's gavel fell
Jury found him guilty
Gave him sixteen years in hell
He said “I ain't spending my life here
I ain't living alone
Ain't breaking no rocks on the chain gang
I'm breakin' out and headin' home”
Gonna make a jailbreak
And I'm lookin' towards the sky
I'm gonna make a jailbreak
Oh, how I wish that I could fly
All in the name of liberty
All in the name of liberty
Got to be free
Jailbreak, let me out of here
Jailbreak, sixteen years
Jailbreak, had more than I can take
Jailbreak, yeah
He said he'd seen his lady being fooled with
By another man
She was down and he was up
He had a gun in his hand
Bullets started flying everywhere
And people started to scream
Big man lying on the ground
With a hole in his body
Where his life had been
But it was -
All in the name of liberty
All in the name of liberty
I got to be free
Jailbreak, jailbreak
I got to break out
Out of here
Heartbeats, they were racin'
Freedom, he was chasin'
Spotlights, sirens, rifles firing
But he made it out…
With a bullet in his back
When that one mistake that we as humans make in our life drastically turns out for the worse, it ends with comedic stories to look back upon. However, on a positive note, the concert was attended, an important life lesson was learned, prison will never be visited again, and orange is not the most appealing color for clothing purposes.
ReplyDeleteEliseo Weinstein @ JRS Bail Bond