June 17th, 2010 was the first night of a two-night Phish run in Hartford, Connecticut. M’lady and I were staying with the Frayler’s, a pair of brothers that came out of nowhere in my memory; I don’t know how or where I might have become acquainted with them but know them I did, enough to be invited to stay at their place and enjoy the spoils of their generous hosting for the two-night run along with several other people, most of which also pop out of nowhere in my memory.

Actually, it wasn’t even their place. Though the brothers had both moved out we were all staying at their parent’s place, which clearly provided more room and/or greater proximity to the venue. I only met the parents once; the had booked into a hotel for the two nights.

Just goes to show you that the Frayler’s come from cool stock.

And speaking of cool, this was the day that the two brothers showed me just the coolest trick for smuggling liquor into a venue. As we drove to the show* they described their method: The two brothers enter the lineup about five people apart. As soon as the first brother clears security and has his ticket scanned the second brother lobs a two-liter** plastic bottle filled with rum from his spot still three or four people away from getting searched. First brother reaches over his shoulder and receives the pass, tucking the contraband under his arm. Security doesn’t see a thing, busy as they are looking down into purses and and scanning tickets.

It sounded foolproof (in that fools would never catch on) and in practise it worked like a charm. I was standing with brother number two when he tossed the bottle with an underarm flourish. The bottle of rum arced high and perfectly and landed right in his brother’s waiting arms. The hundred or so people waiting to get in all saw it and cheered their approval. By the time the security guards looked up to see what was going on the deed was done and brother number one was well on his way.

It was nothing short of beautiful.

And economical, though I’ve never spent more money on soda at a concert in my life.

The show was awesome, the band played lots of my favourites and a few fun covers too, including Shine A Light for the encore.

I just love it when they encore with that tune; it makes the show I’ve just seen seem that much more…epic…communal…religious even? It’s nothing less than a rock and roll hymn and it makes me feel really good. The sermon is over, now let’s sing together.

I can’t remember much about going back to the Frayler’s after the show, but to be fair it’s not like we were sneaking any of that rum back out of the venue with us after the concert. Either way I’m sure the rest of the evening involved plenty of high fives, craft beers, tasty snacks, and lots of comfy couch space.

*Interesting to note that in Hartford passengers in a motor vehicle are allowed to possess (and drink) open liquor, though of course the driver must abstain. We took full advantage of this law (or lack thereof) as did many others I could see. It seemed to have no adverse effects – neither personally nor on society as a whole – and I recommend these same laws be implemented (or struck down?) across North America (nay, the world) immediately.

**I use the American spelling of “litre” here as the Frayler’s would have obviously been using an American bottle for their liquor-sneaking trick. I’ve always found it funny that there is an American spelling for a measurement they don’t even use, but it turns out they do! Despite the fact that they could easily call the large American soda bottle a half-gallon (with only the slightest alteration) for some inexplicable reason they use the metric measurement. I’ll never figure out America.

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