It's tough being a non-pro photographer at a major concert. The folks from the AP and Panic Channel are a clannish bunch, united by their über-long lenses and jargon-heavy trade talk. Standing there with your starter digital SLR can feel like dropping your pants at the men's room - and having the shortest stack.
It doesn't help when most of the photogs are giants, easily clearing the junk at the foot of the stage for their killer shots while you have to contort yourself in all directions to get a decent snap.
Still, it was pretty neat to be two feet from Sting and co., with the beer breath of the crowd behind me. What bit was only being allowed to stick around for two songs - and then being ushered out of the venue . . . and having to wait two hours for my music editor friend to download the entire show. I ended up cake-and-coffeeing it out at a joint across the street, flanked by dudes trying to sell me Police gear.
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