It’s been a while since I had been to a concert and I was really excited to hoop to live music. Walking up to the Susquehanna Center in Camden, NJ, my excitement was building. My backpack held my pink and silver travel hoop. For a week, I day dreamed about standing in the field, way in the back, hooping to my heart’s content.
I even brought my camera to get a few shots of myself or other hoopers using the beautiful blue sky as a backdrop. The weather was perfect. The heat and humidity broke, and I was looking forward to hearing Zac Brown. I was even more excited to spend time with friends and family as well as share my hoop with new people.
Stepping out of the car, I had my concerns. We walked into the typical tailgating pre-party. I saw lots of cowboy hats and boots, and even more beer, as well as the pungent smell of smoked herb drifting through the air. And people who looked as though they overindulged in both.
As we got closer to the entrance, concert goes began the last ditch effort to drink and smoke whatever they could. All of it had to be consumed before entering the building, and so drinking and smoking occurred openly while others attendees filed in line to have their bags searched. I, being achingly sober and the responsible driver, walked up to the door and was asked to open my bag, which I did.
“What is that?” the security guard asked, clearly bewildered.
“It’s a hula hoop,” I said, big smile
“I don’t think they are allowed,” she said, with a question in her voice.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Not 100%,” she added nicely, “Take the hoop to the guy in the white shirt. He’ll tell you.”
I did as I was told. Stood in line while person after person talked to the guy in the white shirt, (Harold Archer), who seemingly held supreme authority over what could and could not pass through the doors.
Along with the stumbling drunks, who were barely holding it together, I opened my bag and stood in judgment.
“What’s that?” Harold Archer asked.
“It’s a hula hoop,” I said, big smile.
Before the word “hoop” was released into the reefer filled air, Harold Archer was shaking his head NO!
“Why not?” I asked, smile gone
“It’s considered a weapon,” Harold Archer explained straight-faced.
“Who considers it a weapon?” I asked.
He said nicely, ignoring my question, “You have three options. 1. Take it back to your car. 2. We will hold it free of charge. 3. You can hide it somewhere around here and hope it’s there when you get back.”
“Who considers a hoop a weapon?” I asked again.
“You can’t bring it in,” he said with the same look my father gave me when I asked to go on a date with a boy in a car. While he didn’t think I would cause trouble, hell would freeze over before I got approval.
Defeated, I asked the security man’s name and who made the rule. I told him I was a writer and that I would be asking questions. He showed me his name tag and said, “Just don’t bring it in.”
I decided on option number 1: “Back to the car.” As I began my trek back to the car, I started to contemplate my weapon of choice, a plastic pink and silver hoop, as I stepped over broken bottles and piles of vomit.
Not Finished Yet
Monday morning, bright and early, I called the Susquehanna Center number. There is, indeed, a recorded message that clearly explains what is and is not allowed in the center during concerts. I listened to the recording, twice. The list included alcohol, coolers, chains, spikes, weapons, laser pointers, (and more) however hula hoops were never mentioned!
I dialed once again and talked with Kathy Herman. I explained that I brought a hoop to the concert. She said, laughing wholeheartedly, “You can’t bring a hula hoop to a concert,” in a tone that I swore implied, “Silly girl.”
I was put off by the condescending tone, but I decided to ignore it … for now.
Instead, I asked, “Why?”
When she finally pulled herself together, she said, “You gotta talk to the manager,” — because she apparently had her fill of laughter for the day.
Next, I was connected to Curtis, the manager. I, once again, explained the situation and told him what Harold Archer said. I got the feeling that Curtis was shaking his head in disbelief, but I can’t be 100% sure.
He explained that there was no policy about hula hooping in the center, in fact, the String Cheese Incident plays at the center and hoops are welcome. He added that most hippie bands have people who hoop during the concerts and the center allows them. As long as the band allows their fans to hoop during the concert, the center has no problem with customers using hoops.
He admitted that he was not part of the security briefing for the Zac Brown Band, but he was not aware of the band saying no hoops. As far as he was concerned, hoops were allowed that night and that he would follow up with Harold Archer.
Needless to say, I was disappointed all over again. I missed my opportunity to hoop to live music. But now I have the chance to educate and address Kathy Herman’s not-so-pleasant attitude toward hooping. Back to the phone.
I explained to Kathy, and her dramatic attitude change, that hoops were allowed at the center and that the rule varies based on the band playing. The band could decide not to allow hooping, but the center allows it. She sounded gracious and accepted the information and thanked me for calling back. I was happy with that.
Lesson Learned
Next time, I will call ahead and ask if I’m allowed to hoop at the venue. I will also gather the names of the people I talk with and have them at the ready. Although I don’t believe that any of this would have changed Harold Archer’s decision, I do believe that I may have been able to push the decision to a person in a higher position (maybe Curtis) and had the opportunity to plead my case to a high authority. I also believe if I used Curtis’ name when talking with Harold, I may have been taken more seriously.
But this situation begs the question: why would someone believe that a hoop would be a weapon? Should a hoop cause such an uproar at a concert?
While I may not be able to change Harold’s mind, I do hope my follow-up calls will give Harold and Kathy pause before they make a quick judgment. To decide that a hoop is a weapon is also to decide that the hooper is willing to use the hoop as a weapon. If the hoop is a weapon, then the hooper’s ability to act responsibly is also brought into question. That said, am I willing to explain to anyone I need to that hooping is not a crime, my hoop is not a weapon, and I can be trusted with a hoop. But how unfortunate is it that I have to do so?