The other night, my wife took us all out to the Lumineers concert at Fenway Park. I’d like to say that I did, but this was all her. Her idea. Her treat. Her show.
This was the third Lumineers show I’ve been to — none of which, oddly enough, were actually my idea. I like the Lumineers, and I love a good concert, but the Lumineers is the one concert my wife really wants to go to whenever they come to our area, and when she asks, I readily say yes. (She also wanted to go to Coldplay, but I can’t get into them. It’s too bad, too, because it sounds like the show at Gillette was very entertaining. Maybe I’ll acquiesce next time. I have agreed to finally see Taylor Swift, if the opportunity arises, because my daughters insist this is a must after having gone themselves. I don’t want to be a grinch about Taylor, so I’ll go. But I might have to make them attend a Black Crowes concert with me in some sort of exchange deal.)
A Boston sunset view from the upper reaches of left field at Fenway Park
The Lumineers
Back to the Lumineers. They always put on a good show. Our seats were way up on the left field side, at the very top—row J—where we got a full view of the stadium and the city skyline. With the oppressive city heat, it was a welcome spot to be. An evening breeze cooled us down, and we were able to spread out a bit since we weren’t stuck in the middle of a large crowd.
I’ve always wanted to see a show at Fenway for the same reason everybody else does—just because. If you’re a strict concert enthusiast and you’ve been, you’ll know that the sound leaves a little bit to be desired. There’s a resounding echo that bounces off the stands surrounding the diamond, and another echo effect as the sound travels along the Green Monster and around to left field. But for a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see a show at Fenway, who cares? It was still cool.
Stelth Ulvang
The last two times I’ve seen The Lumineers, one guy has stood out beyond the two founding members: Stelth Ulvang. This guy is everywhere. Sometimes he’s jumping on top of an upright piano or his keyboard. Sometimes he’s throwing tambourines around with Wesley Schultz, the lead singer. You might have even seen recent videos of Stelth helping Mr. Met at a concert, after the maligned mascot dropped a tambourine and then took a header off the stage.
But beyond his antics with all of the instruments he plays on stage, he’s also known to “get high.” Meaning he climbs stuff. A lot of stuff. Sometimes it’s just the scaffolding that holds up the perimeter of the stage set, but at Fenway, he had something particularly alluring to set his sights on: the Green Monster. I mean, for a musician with a love of heights, how could one resist?
On the Monster
Given our seats, we were particularly well positioned to get a view of Stelth, who suddenly appeared on top of the Monster playing an accordion to begin a rendition of Stubborn Love. It caught everyone around us off guard. There were a lot of “Oh my Gods,” and more than a few times I heard people say, “Are you kidding me?”
He was not kidding, and I was a little nervous for him. I’ve been on the Monster, and even though I don’t have a problem with heights, I felt a little vertigo when I tried peering over the edge one time. There’s something about the sheer drop of the wall that makes the idea of being on the edge of it a lot more discomforting than, say, a cliff wall.
Stelth wasn’t even taking a cautious approach to being up there. He stood right at the edge, shimmied his legs a bit to dance with the music, and played a frickin’ instrument! Then, when he switched to the guitar, he decided to go over the wall and climb down the famous Monster ladder—the one Larry Lucchino reportedly told staff to keep when they were getting ready to throw it out. I always wondered if someone could actually climb that ladder, and Stelth proved that you could. Nuts! (Note: I later learned that Red Sox staff do sometimes use the ladder for work, but I’m glad I didn’t know that before Stelth’s efforts. Made it seem much wilder!)
Um, Stelth? Are you sure about this?
What’s Worth the Cost?
As Stelth descended the ladder at Fenway Park, I worried for his safety. What if he falls? That could be all she wrote. Imagine the screams as 35,000 people witness a dude falling off the Green Monster. It would be horrific. What is this guy doing?
When I was younger, I probably would have thought, Hell yeah, dude—rip it up. But now? As a father in my late forties? Oh, man. As one of my friends likes to say: keep me on terra firma.
But watching Stelth, I started thinking about some of the stuff Edward Abbey said about dying the way we want. About living the lives we want without being afraid of dying. There’s a quote misattributed to Twain—or should we say, unverified as being said by Twain—that goes like this: “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” Watching Stelth dangling on that ladder, I couldn’t help but feel like, for his needs, he was living as fully as he can. Good on him. But while I like adventure as much as the next guy, I think I would have gone over the Monster wall with a bit more caution. And in broad daylight. I need to see what I’m doing!
