Scalpers may get my tickets, but I will still have the Hip... (June 2, 2106)

Tomorrow morning, I have a mission.  It is a mission which will require extreme precision, perfect timing, and a diligence to persevere. Yes, tomorrow, I am on a mission to get Tragically Hip tickets.

I’ve seen the Hip perform three times, and I can honestly say that it is a concert like no other. Yes, I am bordering on cliché here, but bare with me for a moment.

Going to a Hip concert is like watching someone jump up and start jamming at a backyard house party. The enthusiasm that the band has playing for us spills over the stage and is picked up by everyone listening. There is a feeling of inclusion I’ve never experienced at other concerts. We are the band. We’ve lived their lyrics. The Tragically Hip belongs to us, and we belong to them.

When the news was announced last week about the Hip’s lead singer, Gord Downie, being diagnosed with terminal brain cancer our entire country was shocked. He isn’t some elusive star fronting a pretentious rock band. Gord is one of us.

Gord Downie, lead singer for the Tragically Hip, is one of us.

As Canadians, we celebrate the Hip as a national success, but I think what truly made them successful is their indifference to all the perks of being a success. They didn’t start performing to become famous; they started performing because they had stories to tell.

And, more shocking than announcing Gord’s cancer, was the announcement that the Tragically Hip wanted to play one last tour. An intimate, Canadian only, tour, for a few of their closest friends. And, upon a little reflection, that decision is not really very shocking. It seems just like the thing the Hip would do.

What goes beyond shocking is the inexcusable greed that has tarnished a tour which should be nothing but a celebration of the Tragically Hip’s legacy, and a way for a genuinely great man to say good bye to his fans and country.

Pre-sale tickets were sold out within one minute, and immediately put up on resale ticket sites at a disgustingly inflated price. Very few actual fans were able to purchase tickets.

These opportunistic scalpers are using a man’s terminal illness to make a profit, which completely collides with the Tragically Hips philosophy; and, unfortunately, many fans are not going to be able to be there to show their love right back to a band that is, at the core, the essence of Canada.

It would be cool if there was a way for us to go back to the grassroots of the music industry and fans were able to line up to get tickets at a booth somewhere. Or imagine, if we could turn the tables on the Hip, and just take turns up on stage pouring our love out to Gord and the band as they sit in the stadium listening to us. One by one, each of us taking a turn quoting a lyric, maybe a little off-key, but powerful just the same.

So, to the amazing Tragically Hip, if I am not able to beat the scalpers tomorrow and get tickets, I will hold my own backyard concert this summer, blaring your music and taking a moment to appreciate how lucky I was to be in your audience a few times. I may have a few drinks, and shed a few tears, but it will be a true celebration of what the Hip is all about, and no scalper can take that away from me.

Originally posted on my The Forty Years blog on June 2, 2016. I did not end up getting tickets, but was able to join the community for a live feed in our local town centre.