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I've been standing for 2 hours before they even take the stage, with thousands of people becoming one crowd, one entity. Billie Joe Armstrong screams into the microphone, the bodies around me throb and move in unison, and I realize that this music, its more than just entertainment. This music is life, its energy; it's a cry for unison and galvanization. It transcends concepts of music and entertainment. It's a way of life.

I'm in the mosh pit at the Home Depot Center in Carson City and Green Day, the biggest punk band in rock history, is playing to a sold-out crowd. This is the second night I've been here, I saw their show the night before, but I had seat tickets. Right now, I can barely move my arms, I'm covered in other people's sweat, and bruised badly by a mosh circle which opened right next to me. There is nowhere I'd rather be.
That was Sunday, October 9th, and I knew the next day I had class, but I didn't care. I knew they next day, I had work, and it didn't even phase me. The only thing in the world that mattered at that place and time was the music, the feeling. Nothing has ever existed in my lifetime that could feel like this feels. It had to be what it felt like to be at a Beatles concert at their peak.
My first Green Day concert was the pop-disaster tour, when they headlined with Blink 182. I remember that I had seat tickets, but when Green Day came on I stormed the pit with hundreds of other new friends. I remember screaming like I never have, dancing, and every one of my problems, my stress, everything, it was replaced with the pure exuberance of the moment.
If you've never been to a concert, or to a mosh, there really is no words to explain what its like. And it's even more difficult to explain how it felt for me to watch Green Day. Every song resonates in my mind. Every song stays with me, and makes me feel different. Imagine the best drugs, with the greatest sex, imagine everything you have ever wanted being given to you all at once. And you still wont be able to feel like I felt.
I was lucky enough to be able to go to both nights, at the Home Depot Center, and the small show at the Wiltern two days later, and I still haven't fully recovered from the experience. I still have the disposable wristband that you get in the most pit firmly attached to my wrist and I plan to until it literally wears off of me.
The following Green Day has is nearly as faithful as the cult of the Grateful Dead. Of course the only difference is that the members of Green

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