HelloAngel
ONE love, blood, life
By Karen Miller
2005.05
Time was ticking; U2’s official website, U2.com, indicated that tickets would be going on sale soon for the upcoming Vertigo Tour. I was still smarting from mounting Christmas expenses and wondering how long I should put off paying the $40 to subscribe to U2.com. The big problem was that I'd been expecting a discount letter for old-timer fans from the Propaganda days. I kept thinking, "It must be coming soon." I even heard about a mysterious keychain that was supposed to make its way to fans, but no mail was coming, and time was running out.
And that's when it began.
Oh sure, I'd checked out Interference.com before; I'd signed up in 2002 as someone interested in all things U2. I'd even taken a gander at the forums to see if there were any good rumors. It was great fun to see people swooning over pictures, arguing over who had the better avatar (a word I didn't know until I checked out forum life). But this time I wrote something, I took the plunge. On Dec. 7, 2004, I leapt into the world of forums.
And where did I make my monumental pioneer voyage? In a message thread about Bono having a bed large enough to sleep six people.
I interrupted everyone to ask if anyone had received their Propaganda letter yet. No answer ever came, but who can blame them? With a topic like that, the fans will be, um, focused. My next posting didn't happen until the 28th when I offered assistance to someone who wanted information about getting Toronto tickets. That's probably where the addiction really intensified, I kept checking to see if there were responses to my postings.
I liked the thread because it dealt with my country, it felt familiar. From that point on, I checked every day to see if any new information had shown up. My Propaganda letter still hadn't arrived and it felt like it was reaching a crisis point, the tour dates were being announced any day.
On January 3rd, I caved.
The letter hadn't arrived and I couldn't wait anymore. I shelled out the whole $40 to get the U2.com subscription. I wasn't alone in this.
By that point there were many threads about it; the forums were overrun with questions in general. U2.com had been too vague and people weren't getting answers. Tensions were building. I was glad that I would at least get a crack at great seats. The mood really became serious when word came that the tour announcement would be delayed. Questions everywhere! After that, it felt like the dates would never be announced but, lo and behold, they finally were.
On January 23rd, dates were to be posted.
Well, someone couldn't wait that long, and the night before U2.com was to release the dates, someone hacked the site and the contents of the 23rd's email were all over the forums. Yes, there was joy but from that point on, downright anger started brewing. The dates were very limited. Canadians were shocked—only one city was mentioned. Everyone had questions and there were few answers. U2.com didn't seem to sense the storm that was brewing. I was glued to my computer. Nothing was getting
done around my apartment anymore, my desk clutter grew higher and higher.
I was only getting six hours of sleep, I even went the occasional day without calling my boyfriend (Hey, babe!). I needed to check the site at every opportunity. Presale dates were approaching and more dates in Canada weren't added. What was going to happen?
On January 25th, the storm broke.
The presale started and immediately all hell broke loose. Sites were crashing, codes were rejected and nobody knew if there was going to be a third leg. Should fans gamble and use their codes now? Would they miss out on anything if their codes were used only to purchase nosebleed seats? Where was all the information? Where was U2? I spent hours and hours pouring through the forums in horror.
Frustration and despair were running rampant; you could almost sense the weeping and gnashing of teeth in forum topics. Since Toronto tickets had yet to be mentioned, I was watching from a distance, it was like watching the Titanic go down. Then the North American dates went on sale and the disaster continued. People got angry. I mean, really angry. Long-time fans where left without tickets or answers, and it didn't seem like their heroes cared, so they lashed out. Many people announced that they no longer wanted to be fans at all. People insulted the band. People insulted each other. People wanted their money back. I was afraid that when Toronto shows were finally announced my ticket hopes would be dashed, too. I had no idea if there would be a light at the end of the tunnel.
On February 6th, it showed up.
Hope showed up via Larry Mullen Jr. when U2's own drummer wrote a letter to the fans. Something was being worked on and the band had been paying attention all along. I particularly liked the part about Propaganda subscribers getting first crack at the next presale (yes, I'm a bit biased there). Then my concerns turned back to that original letter. I still didn't have any proof that they knew I was a Propaganda subscriber. Fanfire didn't seem very helpful; they seemed as confused as I was. I knew the third leg would be announced at any time. Ahhhh!
March 7th, the heavens appeared.
It was late in the evening and I was sitting at my computer when I got an instant message saying that I'd received an e-mail from U2.com. I nearly jumped out of my seat. Upon opening the message I noticed it said, right at the top, that I was a former Propaganda subscriber. Oh joy! And I saw that my Propaganda discount had been credited to my credit card. Hooray!
All that was left was to wait the final week until I could brave Ticketmaster and buy my own precious tickets, four of them now that the rules had been changed. I loved that but it also meant that many hours of working overtime were coming my way, especially since Edun Jeans were about to be launched, too.
March 15th, the pearly gates opened.
The night before, I could barely sleep. The Interference forums seemed oddly quiet on the subject of the latest group of presales. I was one of the last to go through the anxiety-inducing rites of passage. At 10:00 a.m. I sat down at my computer and hoped for the best.
I'd done everything I could to prepare. I'd taken all the advice from forum posters about things like registering for Ticketmaster beforehand to save time, but I still expected the worst: I expected the site to crash, or that my code would be rejected, but nothing bad happened. It was like stepping off a ledge only to find that there had been an invisible bridge there the whole time.
I ordered my pair of tickets then went back in for my second pair. I was too terrified to gamble so I kept what I was offered and got out of there. I wanted good sit-down tickets, and got them. Then I did what other posters have mentioned doing. Still shaking, I read my Ticketmaster order confirmations over and over again, and I looked at the seating chart over and over again. It was over! Months of questions and stress had culminated in four wonderful tickets coming my way. Of course I immediately had to check out the forums.
Although it didn't seem like a lot of people had ordered tickets, one theme was common among those who had participated in the presale: How easy it was. We were all taken aback by our lack of difficulty. Of course there were a few people who are still embroiled in a ticket nightmare and I sincerely hope that they get exactly what they want. But today, as I was sitting at work, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the full realization of what had happened, I got what I wanted. I got tickets to see my favorite band in the world and I was going to see them up close! There are few highs better than that.
Now it's time for the tour. Sorry, apartment, looks like you'll never get cleaned.
2005.05
Time was ticking; U2’s official website, U2.com, indicated that tickets would be going on sale soon for the upcoming Vertigo Tour. I was still smarting from mounting Christmas expenses and wondering how long I should put off paying the $40 to subscribe to U2.com. The big problem was that I'd been expecting a discount letter for old-timer fans from the Propaganda days. I kept thinking, "It must be coming soon." I even heard about a mysterious keychain that was supposed to make its way to fans, but no mail was coming, and time was running out.
And that's when it began.
Oh sure, I'd checked out Interference.com before; I'd signed up in 2002 as someone interested in all things U2. I'd even taken a gander at the forums to see if there were any good rumors. It was great fun to see people swooning over pictures, arguing over who had the better avatar (a word I didn't know until I checked out forum life). But this time I wrote something, I took the plunge. On Dec. 7, 2004, I leapt into the world of forums.
And where did I make my monumental pioneer voyage? In a message thread about Bono having a bed large enough to sleep six people.
I interrupted everyone to ask if anyone had received their Propaganda letter yet. No answer ever came, but who can blame them? With a topic like that, the fans will be, um, focused. My next posting didn't happen until the 28th when I offered assistance to someone who wanted information about getting Toronto tickets. That's probably where the addiction really intensified, I kept checking to see if there were responses to my postings.
I liked the thread because it dealt with my country, it felt familiar. From that point on, I checked every day to see if any new information had shown up. My Propaganda letter still hadn't arrived and it felt like it was reaching a crisis point, the tour dates were being announced any day.
On January 3rd, I caved.
The letter hadn't arrived and I couldn't wait anymore. I shelled out the whole $40 to get the U2.com subscription. I wasn't alone in this.
By that point there were many threads about it; the forums were overrun with questions in general. U2.com had been too vague and people weren't getting answers. Tensions were building. I was glad that I would at least get a crack at great seats. The mood really became serious when word came that the tour announcement would be delayed. Questions everywhere! After that, it felt like the dates would never be announced but, lo and behold, they finally were.
On January 23rd, dates were to be posted.
Well, someone couldn't wait that long, and the night before U2.com was to release the dates, someone hacked the site and the contents of the 23rd's email were all over the forums. Yes, there was joy but from that point on, downright anger started brewing. The dates were very limited. Canadians were shocked—only one city was mentioned. Everyone had questions and there were few answers. U2.com didn't seem to sense the storm that was brewing. I was glued to my computer. Nothing was getting
done around my apartment anymore, my desk clutter grew higher and higher.
I was only getting six hours of sleep, I even went the occasional day without calling my boyfriend (Hey, babe!). I needed to check the site at every opportunity. Presale dates were approaching and more dates in Canada weren't added. What was going to happen?
On January 25th, the storm broke.
The presale started and immediately all hell broke loose. Sites were crashing, codes were rejected and nobody knew if there was going to be a third leg. Should fans gamble and use their codes now? Would they miss out on anything if their codes were used only to purchase nosebleed seats? Where was all the information? Where was U2? I spent hours and hours pouring through the forums in horror.
Frustration and despair were running rampant; you could almost sense the weeping and gnashing of teeth in forum topics. Since Toronto tickets had yet to be mentioned, I was watching from a distance, it was like watching the Titanic go down. Then the North American dates went on sale and the disaster continued. People got angry. I mean, really angry. Long-time fans where left without tickets or answers, and it didn't seem like their heroes cared, so they lashed out. Many people announced that they no longer wanted to be fans at all. People insulted the band. People insulted each other. People wanted their money back. I was afraid that when Toronto shows were finally announced my ticket hopes would be dashed, too. I had no idea if there would be a light at the end of the tunnel.
On February 6th, it showed up.
Hope showed up via Larry Mullen Jr. when U2's own drummer wrote a letter to the fans. Something was being worked on and the band had been paying attention all along. I particularly liked the part about Propaganda subscribers getting first crack at the next presale (yes, I'm a bit biased there). Then my concerns turned back to that original letter. I still didn't have any proof that they knew I was a Propaganda subscriber. Fanfire didn't seem very helpful; they seemed as confused as I was. I knew the third leg would be announced at any time. Ahhhh!
March 7th, the heavens appeared.
It was late in the evening and I was sitting at my computer when I got an instant message saying that I'd received an e-mail from U2.com. I nearly jumped out of my seat. Upon opening the message I noticed it said, right at the top, that I was a former Propaganda subscriber. Oh joy! And I saw that my Propaganda discount had been credited to my credit card. Hooray!
All that was left was to wait the final week until I could brave Ticketmaster and buy my own precious tickets, four of them now that the rules had been changed. I loved that but it also meant that many hours of working overtime were coming my way, especially since Edun Jeans were about to be launched, too.
March 15th, the pearly gates opened.
The night before, I could barely sleep. The Interference forums seemed oddly quiet on the subject of the latest group of presales. I was one of the last to go through the anxiety-inducing rites of passage. At 10:00 a.m. I sat down at my computer and hoped for the best.
I'd done everything I could to prepare. I'd taken all the advice from forum posters about things like registering for Ticketmaster beforehand to save time, but I still expected the worst: I expected the site to crash, or that my code would be rejected, but nothing bad happened. It was like stepping off a ledge only to find that there had been an invisible bridge there the whole time.
I ordered my pair of tickets then went back in for my second pair. I was too terrified to gamble so I kept what I was offered and got out of there. I wanted good sit-down tickets, and got them. Then I did what other posters have mentioned doing. Still shaking, I read my Ticketmaster order confirmations over and over again, and I looked at the seating chart over and over again. It was over! Months of questions and stress had culminated in four wonderful tickets coming my way. Of course I immediately had to check out the forums.
Although it didn't seem like a lot of people had ordered tickets, one theme was common among those who had participated in the presale: How easy it was. We were all taken aback by our lack of difficulty. Of course there were a few people who are still embroiled in a ticket nightmare and I sincerely hope that they get exactly what they want. But today, as I was sitting at work, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the full realization of what had happened, I got what I wanted. I got tickets to see my favorite band in the world and I was going to see them up close! There are few highs better than that.
Now it's time for the tour. Sorry, apartment, looks like you'll never get cleaned.
