The Ball, the ball, the ball. The Clifford Ball 1996, the greatest musical performance I've ever witnessed, a time I'll never forget.
"Where the fuck is Plattsburg, New York?" That was the main concern on a warm summer afternoon, as we began to pack up the car for a trip that will remain crisp in my mind better then vacation I've ever been on. It was Tom, Tim, Joe, Beau, Tom' brother Steve, Alex who flew in from Wisconsin, Tim's brother Sean and myself Tony. The weather couldn't been better, the mood...excitement, joy, and a little nervousness. After all it was my first Phish show, and Tom was the only other one out of us all who had seen a Phish show. I had always liked phish, but I was always reluctant to get tix for a show, I figured I could wait till they came to Giant Stadium, or The Meadowlands.
One day I decided "What the hell!!"
Plattsburg was a good 6 hours up I-87 from quiet River Vale, New Jersey. So we spent most of the afternoon at Shop-rite, Campmor, and Ramsey outdoor. We had sleeping bags, coolers of beer, soda, food, and more beer, tents, stoves, lanterns, bug torches, and clothes. At around 12 midnite Friday morning we hit the road and embarked, on what would be a scared trip. Tom drove the van with his brother and myself. Tim in his red Festiva with Joe and Sean, and Beau in his blue Festiva with Alex. Stopping only to piss and re-fuel, we busted up to Plattsburg, arriving around 6am. It was amazing to see all the VW Westvalias up I-87 with Steal you Face, and dancing bear stickers. Once arriving, we picked a spot to set camp (out of the Wetlands of course) We...