The book signing went well. I really enjoyed my time with the folks at Southern Bound Book Shop—if you have a chance to visit Biloxi don’t forget to stop by this fantastic shop. Clean, well organized and everything a book store should be. Thank you to the staff there for letting me spend my Halloween afternoon with you!
The other reason I went to Biloxi was to see Marilyn Manson at the Hard Rock Cafe. Due to bad weather, I didn’t roll back into my town until 2 a.m. and I have two deadlines to meet so I won’t be elaborating too much. Here’s the highlights…
Manson wore a bowler hat early on in the show. His taste in hats was appreciated. He took it off and threw it into the crowd and it looked like it was coming right for me. As I reached up to catch it, a taller arm than mine snatched my gift away and then the entire area became a scrambling mini mosh pit as everyone fought for the hat.
I very nearly went down with the group and got caught in it but I managed to stagger out before it got bad. This is a lesson in Taoism—nothing is good or bad. I was momentarily disappointed not to catch the hat, but very glad not to suffer some of the punches and kicks delivered to whoever did.
The crowd was raving mad and jam packed. By this time I had managed to squeeze my way to about three or four rows back. I use the term “rows” loosely. A group of tall, hardcore guys blocked any further progress. At one point they reached excitement overload and started slamming themselves around indiscriminately.
One lost the platform sole of his shoe and started randomly smacking those in front of him with it. It was hard to keep my own footing and I had to shove them back to avoid getting buried. Then a fight broke out. Manson stopped the concert and demanded they be removed. As the security guards cut their way through the crowd I was helpful and moved out of their way… by moving up.
Nearly to the front now, my determination faltered when it looked like Manson was spitting off stage and into the front row. I am a fan, but not into being covered in spit. I halted my progress and decided to stake my claim out of spit reach.
I still wound up with a face full of water when he drink from a glass and then threw the rest into the crowd. The first row still bore the brunt of the onslaught, and despite everyone yelling that he was spraying us with vodka, it was just water.
Things got scary when Manson stepped down into the crowd in front of me and the masses surged forward. The first five rows melded into one surging, screaming mad entity. I managed to get a video of Manson but I did not see this with my own eyes. My face was buried into someone’s sweaty back and the bodies were so tight it was all I could do to keep on my feet and hold the camera up, hoping to catch some of the action. I did, as you can see below :)
After the show was over I took a photo of myself to record my reaction. My pupils are dilated from all the adrenaline that comes from surviving a Manson show, and I don’t think my pulse stopped racing for two hours.
It was an exhilarating experience, scarier than any haunted house and one I’m glad to have had. Marilyn Manson on Halloween will be an experience I will never forget and worth every near stomping.
As far as doing it again, however, I don’t feel the need. Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year and I really missed spending it with my family. Next year I think we’ll just have our own party… I’m thinking a special showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show may be the theme.