I don’t want to say things have gotten worse since 1997. But, they haven’t gotten better. I paid something like $9 a day to get in, the lineup was remarkably more intriguing, and I was a teenager. But, frankly, I’ve never put much stock in the Bumber lineup as an indicator of the quality of the festival. The highlights of the festival, at least for me, have always been in the events that were not on the schedule.Take, for instance, Beck’s end-of-evening set at Memorial Stadium in ’97. He was on his “Odley” tour, and was the reason I had even paid Bumbershoot any attention. Problem was, Cake was playing on a side stage at close to the same time (they went on 15 or 20 minutes sooner), and one member of our party was all about Cake. So, we compromised, which every Bumber party must do at some point. We decided we’d hit the first half-ish of Cake’s set, and show up late to Beck’s.Now, in 1997, there were no Technicolor wristbands required for entry in the the evening sets in the stadium, as there are now. And, as we made our way toward the entrance, we heard a few mumbles from patrons walking upstream: “you’re not going to get in.”True. We weren’t going to get in. There were no less than 500 angry people outside the gates when we arrived. Stadium was at capacity, and security wasn’t letting anyone else in. But, like I said, I was a teenager, had yet to discover beer, instead favoring adrenaline. So, we made our way to the front of the crowd, crawling through planters, and squeezing between our considerably older colleagues.Just as we made it to the front, which, was on the verge of mosh pit, we heard someone yell, “Just go!” And at that very moment, about 50 or 75 of us did just that, and as a few larger individuals tussled with security, my friend and I walked through the gates, just as the man of the hour launched into “Devil’s Haircut.”Wow, now that I think about it, that was the first of two times I’ve had to weasel my way into that stadium to see Beck. But, that’s another story altogether.