The Frustrators Tour 2011

The whole night of the 19th of February, 2011, was incredibly surreal. Every moment had me thinking “what the fuck?” and “is this actually happening to me?”

We made our way down Gilman Street in the rain, clinging to our coats and jumpers, my gloved hands changing every few moments from being shoved in my pockets to covering my face in an attempt to warm my frozen nose. Two days ago I’d been sweating my ass off in Perth in the middle of the Australian Summer and now I was heading towards 924 Gilman Street in the freezing cold of California in the Winter. That alone was surreal enough for me.

We reached the line-up and met up with some familiar faces, most of whom I’d never met in person but then here they were. When Tony arrived I could barely contain my excitement – I hadn’t seen him in over 6 months and then he just randomly turns up in San Francisco and gives me a hug. Mindfuck #1.

We eventually got through the doors, passed the punk kids that were manning the door and seemed unimpressed by the amount of Green Day fans entering their territory, and into the room in which my idols got their start. Mindfuck #2. (I will now stop writing that, the numbers will get excessive)

924 Gilman Street was exactly how you’d expect it; scummy, completely covered in graffiti and dirt, and just insanely cool. I had a quick look around and was thoroughly enjoying getting to know my new friends Toni-Ann, Nicole and a few others when Aska grabbed my arm and just said “he’s here” before dragging me over to where Kerry was waiting to take over.

That was when I got my first glimpse of Mike Dirnt in about 8 months. My heart just about stopped and I immediately started to have trouble breathing. I ceased walking as my brain also ceased functioning.

“I’m going to do the Mum thing,” it was Dr Kerry to the rescue as she pulled me through the small crowd that had gathered around him and took complete charge of the situation. “Mike, do you remember Leisha? You gave her your vest.”

My embarrassment was quickly forgotten as he smiled and nodded “of course” he said, and we hugged.

All I could manage was a shaky “thank you” as Kerry asked Mike to sign her arm, to add to her newly started collection of Green Day autograph tattoos.

I opened my mouth to speak when his phone began to ring and he glanced at the caller I.D. “Sorry, it’s my wife, she’s trying to get here.” He said to me, putting the phone to his ear and answering with a “hey babe” which made me melt a little (a lot) on the inside.

“Could you draw a bass clef behind my ear?” I shakily asked when he had finished speaking to Brittney.

He chuckled, “I can’t draw bass clefs, I don’t read music,” he said before someone else interrupted and asked him for a photo. I felt my heart sink but I continued to hover by his side. I didn’t know what the rest of the weekend would be like, and whether I would get another chance to talk to him again.

“Can I just get a photo?” I smiled, and we posed while someone snapped the shot.

To be honest, this conversation I have the worst memory of. It was quick and I only remember it as a blurry and confusing mess. I had been shaking terribly and I hadn’t gotten to thank him like I wanted to but I walked away elated to have finally met the man I hold in such high regard.

My memory of that night, like most memories that a person possesses, is in bits and pieces and while I had amazing moments with Jason, Art and Terry, my next tangible recollection that I can grab onto and relive, was talking to Brittney as she ran the merchandise table.

“This is going to sound really creepy,” I so intelligently began, “but I think you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Oh you’re so beautiful,” she grinned back in the most stereotypically American accent I think I’ve ever heard. She made me smile so much, it was such a joy to talk to her. “Where are you from?” she continued.

“Australia.”

“Yeah, I know, but where in Australia?”

“Oh, Perth, in Western Australia.”

“Cool,” she said, appearing genuinely interested although I doubt she actually was, and I assured her that it wasn’t actually cool. The conversation continued in a non-interesting manner for a few more moments before I left her to her merch-selling duties so I could go and fan girl in the corner.

Brittney was just genuinely sweet and cool and it made me so happy to watch her and Mike together, I was so happy that he had found someone to be happy with.

From taking “aaaaargghh” (the catch phrase of the trip) photos with Art, to talking to Jason and Terry about Aska’s Midget Toss t-shirt, to seeing Kerry ask Bill Schneider for a job, the night got better and better. Mike continued to wander around the place, catching up with friends and family, posing for photos with fans, signing autographs and just rocking out to the support bands.

One of my favourite moments was standing with Tony to the back of the moshpit, next to the merch table, and just taking in how incredibly surreal a situation we were in. I’d just bought merch from Brittney; been smacked into my Joey Armstrong as he ran into the moshpit, enjoying the rest of his night after rocking the stage with the rest of Emily’s Army; Bill Schneider was standing right behind me, casually observing; Mike had bumped into me several times including once when he patted me on the lower back and murmured a sorry with a sweet little smile and then another instance when he ran between me and Kerry with an exaggerated “ARGH!”; I was standing next to Tony, in San Francisco at a place with “Sweet Children” written on the ceiling.

And all of this was before the Frustrators even hit the stage. As it neared that time I moved up behind Nicole, in front of where Mike would be standing and prepared myself for seeing him play the bass again. It wasn’t difficult; because he already had his bass in hand as he did his own teching and sound checking. I was one or two rows back to begin with, but by the end of the set that included the story about Mike shooting his dog because it was covered in maggots, and everyone singing about sleeping with Stanley the chicken, I was sitting on the stage, right in front of Mike’s microphone stand.

I wish I could remember the conversation that occurred before they played the Great Australian Midget Toss (it had something to do with their being Aussie’s present) but I don’t and so I shall skip ahead to the end of the night.

We waited around for as long as possible and after I thanked Terry for playing Midget Toss and he gave me a Scurvy Dog Tee we got to have another great chat with Art. We thanked him for the show and he thanked us for coming all the way out to the states to see them.

“Are you guys coming tomorrow?” he asked us. “Give me your names and I’ll get you put on the guest list so you can get in for free.”

“We already bought tickets,” Aska told him.

He was ridiculously shocked and we explained that we weren’t flying all this way with out guaranteed entrance to the gigs.

And this conversation somehow resulted in Art giving us all free Frustrators t-shirts. He really is such a sweet guy.

The final moment of importance that night was when Mike was finally available again for me to make a last request for him to draw a bass clef on me so that I could get it tattooed.

“I really can’t draw,” he insisted.
This was when some random joined in and took the marker, demonstrating how easy it was to draw the clef in question by drawing one on the table.

Mike took back the pen and poised it over the table, as though getting ready to practice before sighing and appearing too embarrassed over his abilities to try.

“Just draw anything, I really don’t care,” I said, grinning.

He pulled back my hair and raised the pen, and my heart was thumping in my chest. I couldn’t believe he was about to draw my future tattoo, Mike’s influence would be forever inked on me.

And then he placed the pen to my skin, briefly, before exclaiming “It’s a beauty spot!” chuckling proudly to himself and then walking away, leaving me with a little black dot on my head and a scandalized look on my face.