Attitude of Gratitude

Within my community online, there's been a lot of talk of anniversaries these past few weeks. Last summer, U2 relaunched its 360 Tour on the West Coast, so each week is providing another chance to look back and remember where we were this time last year.

I went to three U2 shows last year. The first (which I detailed here) June 6 in Oakland, and the third and fourth June 17 and 18 in Anaheim. Each show was fantastic and meaningful and extraordinary in its own way.

As has been my tradition since seeing U2 for the first time nearly 15 years ago (PopMart LA Coliseum June 21, 1997), I sent the band a thank-you note, which I share with you now. This isn't a thank-you note just to the band, but to everyone who has shared the U2 experience with me over the last 15 years. It wouldn't have meant nearly as much without all of you.

Dear Adam, Bono, Edge and Larry,

I remember watching the sobbing, shaking, fainting Michael Jackson fans on TV when I was younger and just not getting it. How could watching someone perform send a person into such hysterics?

After Saturday's show in Anaheim, California, I understand these Michael Jackson fans a little bit better. I didn't faint or need medical attention, but several times during the show I felt the moment overtake me. I cried.

This was my 13th U2 show and, without a doubt, the best I've seen. The mixed-up, surprising set list definitely heightened the excitement ("The Fly!" "One" in the main set! "Stuck in a Moment" acoustic!) but the group I was with also helped push me over.

I became a member of Zootopia and Interference.com nearly 10 years ago, following the Elevation Tour. Through these boards, I've gotten to know other fans from all around the world, many of whom have become my friends.

I was surrounded by a dozen of these friends on Saturday. We jumped and screamed and sang and danced together all night. "Oh my God! What's going on?" we'd shout to each other every time the set list took an unexpected turn.

We all knew that would be a show people would talk about, jealous they weren't there. We were grateful not just to have been in the audience that night, but to have been there together.

This is what your band has given me—dear friends, mind-blowing experiences, global adventures. Being a U2 fan, I got to briefly live out my rock journalist dreams when I was contributing editor for Interference.com. I've been given the opportunity or excuse to travel to Dublin and New York City, places I'd always wanted to see, and Nashville and Raleigh, places I never expected to visit but adored. I've found the words to express all the overwhelming love and hope I felt when my niece and nephew were born in your songs. I've bonded with family members and coworkers who are also fans.

I've also connected with other fans empowered by your music and example to work to effect positive change in the world through my volunteer work with the African Well Fund. The number of people I've met through the organization are so passionate about making the world a better place, about giving what they can to help people in need is so inspiring. Aside from The Beatles, I can't picture any other band that attracts that kind of fan base, or has that type of lasting positive influence on its fans.

I attended my first U2 show at the LA Coliseum in 1997, PopMart. A few months later, I sent you a thank-you note, still glowing from that amazing night and the memories of singing the "oh-oh-oh-ohs" from "Pride" under an illuminated sky with tens of thousands of other strangers I knew I was connected to. Fourteen years later, I still feel that way after a U2 show, though it's been magnified by all the fringe benefits loving your band has provided me.

Thank you for that. Thank you for 13 glorious shows. Thank you for the albums, the songs, the videos, the experiences. Thank you. I can't wait for show 14.