How an international trip to see Blink 182 led to disappointment, then redemption

How I Ended Up Taking My Partner to See Blink-182 in Mexico City for Our 10th Anniversary

In the suburbs of the mid-90s, you couldn’t open a magazine or walk into a Sam Goody store without seeing the “12 CDs for a Penny” ads. They were everywhere and always seemed so rip-off-the-wall, even in glossy print. BMI and Columbia House Records, in a life-and-death struggle for teenage ears, tried desperately to lure kids into their “CD of the Month” clubs, essentially by giving them a bunch of music for almost free. You could pick any 12 CDs you wanted, from almost any artist you could imagine. All you had to do was cover shipping and handling and allow six to eight weeks for delivery, the ads promised. As rip-off-the-wall as it sounded, I bought it.

It’s hard to overstate the impact these mega-deals have had on my life. At the risk of sounding pathetic, I’d go so far as to say they’ve shaped me into the person I am today.

I don’t remember the first option I signed up for. But I’ll never forget the day a shrink-wrapped box of 12 CDs showed up on the doorstep of my parents’ house in Littleton, Colorado. I was in 6th or 7th grade, maybe the summer between—the age when you start to notice and want what kids a few years older than you are wearing to school or the local amusement park. Things like NOFX T-shirts and backward Butthole Surfers caps caught my eye.

This box of CDs could now be in a museum of 90s ska-punk nostalgia. I had selected albums from all the bands I wanted to listen to. Let’s face it of the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Defeating streak Less than Jake. Turn off the radio by Reel Big Fish. Goldfinger and Rancid were there. And of course, one of the seminal albums of that era, Ranch for guys by Blink-182, which had just come out and contained the song “Dammit” which was constantly playing on the local modern rock station.

I took full advantage of the excitement I felt that day. Afterward, every dollar I earned mowing lawns or babysitting went toward concert tickets. Instead of eating lunch at school, I bought myself an M&M cookie every day, saving the rest of the food money my mother gave me to go to the record store every Friday and buy a new CD. In high school, I bought a Squire Stratocaster and regularly attended punk shows in Denver, and in college, I started my own band in an attempt to be like my heroes. The “scene” became my life. Which meant it inevitably became a part of my relationships, for better or worse.

Of course, Alisha knew who Blink was when we started dating in 2013. She thought they were a good match, but as she puts it, she didn’t expect to marry a “Tom Delonge stalker.” Still, the band has been the soundtrack to so much of our relationship. The idea of ​​seeing them on a big anniversary seemed exciting.

A bitter disappointment

Delonge, Blink’s guitarist and co-vocalist, is a frequent user of social media. It’s not uncommon for him to post three times a day on Instagram, especially when he’s on tour and looking bored in the dressing room or on a plane. Shortly after we arrived at our Airbnb in Mexico City’s Condesa neighborhood, I checked Instagram to see if the band was in town yet, and if so, if they’d stumbled upon any of my favorite taco stands or markets. Delonge, however, hadn’t posted in a few days, and more worryingly, there was nothing on his page about the band’s other announced Latin American tour dates, which they should have been considering over the previous two weeks.

Something was wrong.

I found out about the news by Googling “Blink cancels Mexico City shows.” Drummer Travis Barker had injured his finger and couldn’t play. The cancellation had been announced a few weeks earlier. I hadn’t heard anything about it from StubHub, where I bought the tickets, but I realized I must have missed the band’s announcement on social media.

And just like that, our anniversary trip had fallen apart the way it had started. I was disappointed, even though I had seen these shows many times before. When you’re making thousands of dollars a night, you don’t cancel shows, right? Alisha was irritated, especially because she’d never seen them, but had been listening to me rant about how epic Tom’s raunchy jokes were for the past 10 years without context, and now she was going to have to keep doing it.

The night we were supposed to see Blink, we went to see an opera at the Palacio de Bellas Artes. The performance was beautiful, but I was distracted. I felt let down by Blink-182, like they hadn’t held up their end of the bargain. After all, I had paid $300 for two tickets, plus the cost of airfare and an Airbnb. The pain was like being betrayed by a trusted friend or family member.

A second chance in Salt Lake City

Several months later, and after multiple exchanges with StubHub trying to get our tickets refunded, Blink-182 announced a series of additional dates for the “One More Time” tour. The band promised to make up for their canceled shows in Latin America (which they did, with the exception of the Mexico City date, for which our tickets would have been valid). The schedule also included several cities that had been skipped the previous year, including Salt Lake City, about four hours from where we now live in western Colorado. I bought two tickets to the SLC date in hopes that things would go better this time around.

Eight months after buying the tickets, we went to Salt Lake City and checked into a downtown hotel. The night went well, especially because the band was there. The guy sitting across from me as Alisha (we’re old now and we sit at shows) was an old school fan like me, and during the set changeover between the opening band, Pierce the Veil, and Blink-182, we talked about how we’d seen Blink and other punk bands back when tickets were $10 instead of $150. Mark, Tom, and Travis came out to The Undertaker theme song, a serious dose of retro. Say what you will about Mark and Tom—for 32 years, their shows have been defined by corny, R-rated jokes that are easy to take out of context—but no band in history better understands the power of nostalgia in maintaining a concert atmosphere and keeping fans (and the band’s bottom line) as engaged as possible. I’m 40 now, but singing “First Date” and “The Rock Show” gives me as much satisfaction as it did when I was 17. They even played “Carousel,” the first song the band ever wrote and one of my all-time favorites (video of the song below).

Blink’s 90-minute set was comprised of hit singles, no small feat for a band that sings almost exclusively about melancholy relationship scenarios and teenage angst. Millions of people of my generation know the lyrics to most of these songs, with the exception of the last one, the new song “One More Time,” which speaks to the band’s dramatic history.

As I left the venue for a nightcap at a nearby bar, I remarked to Alisha that seeing Blink-182 together again was like closing an outdated chapter in our relationship. It forced us, as parents of a young child, juggling busy careers and with little time to meet, to step out of our routines for a short while to rekindle the sparks in our young relationship. Alisha agreed. Flying to Mexico City to see the band, only to be disappointed when they didn’t show up, and then waiting nearly 18 more months to finally see them in Salt Lake City, actually brought us closer together. In that sense, traveling for a concert is well worth the hassle and expense. There’s no better excuse to let loose and reminisce about a time when life was much simpler. Hopefully, you’ll only have to do it once, instead of twice.

Blink-182 have upcoming tour dates in Europe and the United States