I went to both Pearl Jam concerts this week in Seattle. Everyone's got that one thing she can't miss, and I guess that's my thing. Each night was completely different from the other, though some fans (like a fan I'll call BW, who bought my extra ticket & hung out with me both nights) prefer to see the entire tour as one long ride on a wave of music.
Wandering around Key Arena, I told BW I wanted to find a Pearl Jam logo tattoo, specifically their Stickman icon, to photograph for this blog post. BW said that shouldn't be too hard, since a fairly high percentage of male hardcore Pearl Jam fans have a Stickman tattoo, most usually on their calves. Lo and behold, in the outdoor beergarden, there was Chip from Illinois - an extremely nice PJ devotee with a very fine tattoo (pictured).
I think in the olden days (ie, 1991) Stickman and his big, outstretched hands probably signified to me something like angst, adolescent yearning for total freedom, or some other typical and temporary youthful struggle with which we all identified through a scowl. But as the fanbase ages, Stickman starts to take on a different meaning. Stickman looks to be more joyful, like he's celebrating, or experiencing a searing sublime moment.
Maybe that's why lots of people love Stickman enough to get him tattooed (not me, and not BW - but enough of us). With every Pearl Jam show, the crowd has mellowed a bit, the set lists stretch gently to embrace the entire length of the catalogue, and people continue to sing along.
That might go a little bit of the way to explain why this is the one thing I can't miss.
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