Everyone has their identifiers. For some people, they’re defined by their physical characteristics, for example if someone says, “Oh, it’s that red-headed kid who wears flip flops all the time.”
Others are identified by their major, or where they live, such as, “She’s that nice nursing major from New York.”
I am identified by my unhealthy obsession with Twenty One Pilots.
For the poor souls that have never listened to the amazing musical experience that is Twenty One Pilots, it is a two-person, Ohio-based band, whose music cannot be categorized by a specific genre. Some call it “emo rapping,” some call it “ukulele punk.” Personally, I simply call it “perfection.”
My love affair with Twenty One Pilots began last November when my friend Lydia won a local radio contest and received free tickets and backstage passes to meet the band. Lydia, in an act that has henceforth elevated her to “best friend” status, invited me to go with her.
We met the band, snapped a few pictures, and had awesome seats for the concert. The concert was everything I hoped and dreamed it would be, and as soon as I left the performance I knew I had to see Twenty One Pilots live again, or would risk living an incomplete life.
This brings us to present day. Ever since that fateful night, I have become even more obsessed with the band. After following them on the holy trinity of social media (Facebook, Twitter and Instagram), I noticed they were posting dates for their upcoming spring tour.
I feverishly refreshed the band’s website, anxiously awaiting the announcement of cities they would visit for their tour. Finally, the day came when the complete tour was listed.
Alas, my hometown Cleveland was nowhere on the list. Presale tickets for the next nearest city, Cincinnati, were quickly vanishing. Frantically, I called Lydia.
“LYDIA, they’re releasing cities and dates. Cleveland isn’t on the list. Cincinnati is almost sold out. What do we do?”
Now, any sane person would just think, “Oh darn, they’re not coming to my city, better luck next tour,” but Lydia and I are not sane; we are determined.
“Dude, why don’t we just go to the Indianapolis show?” suggested Lydia.
The solution seemed so simple. The show in Indianapolis was during Easter break, so it wouldn’t conflict with missing school. I would be home in Cleveland, so it would be less of a drive than if I were traveling from Erie.
“Let’s do it. YOLO,” I said without hesitation, quoting the famous rapper Drake.
With that, we happily clicked the “order tickets” button, and went on our merry way throughout the day. But, soon I was hit with a sudden wave of reality.
Another frantic call to Lydia, “Wait, my mom never agreed to this, we don’t have anywhere to stay, we’ve never even been to Indianapolis.”
“Don’t worry, we have two months to figure this out,” reassured Lydia.
Right now we’re still in the “figuring this out” process. Miraculously, my parents actually agreed to me traveling six hours away to see a band, but we still are trying to work out a few details.
You would think planning a spring-break road trip with your friend would be easy. There are hotels to book, destinations to map out, and road trip playlists to make. Something so relaxing and fun is ultimately taking a lot of work.
My message to students planning their own spring break trip: do not follow my actions in this story.
Always thoroughly research the area you’re visiting and book hotels beforehand. Use sites such as Priceline to compare prices on hotels and flights before you purchase your tickets. Be smart and safe. But also, don’t forget that this is supposed to be a fun process. You’re young and life is exciting. You might as well live like Drake and “YOLO” every once in a while.