I read this a long while back, and loved it so much I wrote the author, Jason pettus to commend him on his work capturing the concert. He said he loved the compliments, but he never actually went. He, and three of his buddies all decided to write about going to a Van Halen concert for an oral in class, then when they read them, they would all have different stories. Heres his

__________________________________________________ _______________________
This is the story of the greatest concert I ever saw. This is the story of the greatest concert that ever was, better than the Beatles, better than Pink Floyd, better than Cheap Trick in Japan. This is the story of Van Halen, Herra Arena, Dayton Ohio, August 18, 1984.

Me and Greg and Jeff slept outside Marshall Field's in sleeping bags all night waiting for the box office to open, sipping on a fifth of Jack Daniels to keep us warm. There was a big rumor going around that Van Halen was filming their new video live at our show, our show, Dayton Ohio, and we were determined to be up there where the action was. Besides, it's Van Halen. Dud, we are so there. Eighth row center, holy motherfucking God, eighth row center, beating my previous record of twelfth row right for the Rush show last year, Grace Under Pressure tour, dude, that show fuckin' rocked, Neil Peart man! Neil Peart's a fuckin' God! Eighth row center, we couldn't fuckin' believe it. We talked about the concert for weeks, what song they're gonna open with, which guitar Eddie would use, what song they're filming the video for, what we were gonna wear.

Jeff decided to wear his Sabbath shirt to show he had street cred. Greg wore his senior shirt 'cause in case we got in the video our high school's name would be right there, right in front of the rest of the world, fuckin' kick ass! I wore my 1982 Diver Down concert shirt, white front, black sides, three-quarter-length sleeves, to show I'm a real fan, to show I ain't one of those little spandex-wearing faggots jumping on the bandwagon now that MTV loves metal. I've been following Van Halen since "Jamie's Crying," dude, put that in your bong and smoke it!

Head out down I-98 in Jeff's '74 Nova. We're kicking back, drinking some brews, smoking a little weed. I can feel the excitement in the air. Holy fuckin' shit, dude, Van Halen. Get to the arena. There are hotties everywhere you look. I spy one over by the t-shirt booth. Black parachute pants, red and white checkered bandanna tied around her leg, black leather fringe jacket, Porsche racing gloves with the tips cut off, matching fold-up Porsche sunglasses, Panama hat, roach clips in her feathered hair with purple and blue feathers hanging off them. I tell her to meet us after the show and we'll go party over at Needleman's house, Needleman, 24 years old, owns his own apartment down by the mall, buys us beer whenever we want, Needleman fuckin' rocks, dude.

Make our way down to the floor, the fuckin' floor of Herra Arena, dude, this is the greatest. Special opening guests Skid Row open. We are not impressed. Greg chucks a disposable lighter at the lead singer's head and yells, "Go back to L.A., you fuckin' glam-rock pussies!" Dude, Greg is so wasted. He's been taking swigs of Jack off this little bottle he snuck in, won't give us any, the little fag, but that's okay. I don't wanna be passed out when the cameras start rolling.

We're waiting, we're waiting, we're waiting waiting waiting. Finally the house lights suddenly go black. 14,000 fans erupt in synchronous harmony. 14,000 lighters are held up in the air at once. Smoke is billowing out from the stage. There's a low bass not echoing out from the 150 speakers around the arena, that's right, 150 fuckin' speakers, dude. Suddenly fireworks explode in front of us, I hear the opening chords of "Jump," and there they are, holy fuckin' God, there they are, twenty fuckin' feet away from me. Diamond Dave is spinning and dancing and gyrating across the stage, igniting the crowd. Alex Van Halen is pounding away on the skins, man, ten-foot-high gong suspended behind his head. Mark Anthony is...uh, well, he's being Mark Anthony, right? And Eddie. Fuckin' Eddie Van Halen is throwing down licks like the guitar is part of his body. Eddie is looking at his fingers in amazement like he can't believe it's his own two hands playing this solo! Eddie Van Halen is the greatest fuckin' guitar player in history! And don't give me any of that Joe Satriani shit, Joe Satriani's a fuckin' pussy, man! Silver Surfer my ass!

Van Halen is working the crowd into a frenzy. 17-year-old girls are up on their boyfriends' shoulders, showing everyone their tits! Right on, dude! Finally near the end of the show David Lee Roth stops the concert and has the arena lights turned on. He shouts out to the crowd, "Everybody on this side of the arena, let me hear you say Yeah! Everybody on this side of the arena, let me hear you say Hell Yeah! And all of you, all of you in the back of the arena, let me hear you say Rock N Roll Will Never Die!" And that's when Van Halen breaks into the most ear-splitting, head-banging, balls to the wall, For Those About To Rock version of "Panama" I have ever heard in my life! Dude, on August 18 1984 I was witness to the greatest moment in the history of rock and roll!

You watch the video, dude. Watch very closely and on the 89th second you will se a kid in the audience, Diver Down t-shirt, covered in sweat, Bic lighter in one outstretched hand, devil sign with the other. Greatest fuckin' concert in the history of time. Panama-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! Panama!