>>12236252
One afternoon in the early early nineties I snuck into the colosseum near the University of South Carolina and hid behind a stack of tables deep in the concrete bowels of the arena.
Holding a letter I had written prior to taking this position, I waited roughly 7 hours, holding my breath whenever colosseum personnel came near the folding tables.
When I detected the bass playing of Claypool thumping through the thick concrete, I came out of my hiding place and made my way quickly to the dressing rooms. Although I had no backstage lanyard, no one challenged me.
I came to the door with the sign on it and knocked. A manager answered and asked what I was doing there. Over his shoulder, I saw Alex, Geddy, and Neil getting ready to go on.
I handed him the letter I had written to Neil. Alex grinned at me. The manager said he would give the letter to Neil and told me to go enjoy the show. I did.
A month later, I got a postcard from Neil with a personal response. He signed it in blue ball point.
Those were some daze…