Standing outside the Landmark Theater less than hour before Al Gore’s lecture, I waited among the horde of political activists armed with pamphlets and mobbed Syracuse University students as they unloaded off the bus.

Unlike them, I was there to score someone’s extra tickets for the sold-out speech. By the end, I didn’t have a ticket, but instead a new perspective on the dynamics of event crowds.

Following the lead of my adventurous roommate, I left my dorm just after 6 p.m. He was convinced there would be plenty of students with extra tickets, eager to sell them at face value. It was such novel thinking that led me towards Schine, assuming I would have a ticket before the first bus even arrived.

After little initial interest from the students at the bus stop, my roommate decided we should board a bus downtown anyway, and try our luck at the venue.

As the bus emptied and my peers headed into the theater, we found ourselves standing outside the entrance with a cast of characters who I never give much attention to when I am the one holding a ticket.

It was still early and the only other people outside were the Student Association event workers, a few members of the local media and a handful of political activists. I searched around for a few moments and the only action I found was a student attempting to register New York State voters. He was slightly disappointed I couldn’t sign up to vote, being a proudly registered New Jerseyan, but after that brief conversation I was welcomed into a bizarre world.

The slew of political activists handing out pamphlets assimilated us into their ranks. They recognized us as outsiders and let us join in the camaraderie of being separated from the mainstream. As more busses pulled up and unloaded students, I began to see these ‘crazies’ in a different light.

They were not putting on a show for the people in line by handing out their propaganda; they were the same whether the crowd was there or not. I passed the time between busloads chatting with the ‘(Howie) Hawkins for Senate’ sticker guy. He found it humorous that we were fishing for tickets as if we were at a concert.

It wasn’t too fun being in the group huddling outside the bus exits waiting to interact with the crowds. People really do treat you as a lesser. My fellow SU students, with whom I share dorms, dining rooms and lecture halls, looked down on me because I was outside the masses. Most ignored my requests to buy extra tickets, many even threw sour looks my way. It was a humbling feeling.

When it became apparent we weren’t getting tickets, we left the band of singing grandmothers in eccentric outfits and rode back to campus on an empty bus. While I only wanted to hear Al Gore lecture, I didn’t even have to enter the Landmark Theatre to gain anything.

My roommate scored a ticket back at Schine and I was left walking through a silent campus. This experience gave me a perspective on the culture of the non-ticket holders. I can now relate to the scalpers, pamphlet pushers and maybe even the guy with the cardboard sign strung around his waist. I saw into their world on Thursday night and realized how harsh the other side of the line can be. But most importantly, I learned not to listen to anymore of my roommate’s ‘really good’ ideas.

Matt Reilly is a sophomore political science and public relations major whose columns appear Mondays in The Daily Orange. Email at msreilly@syr.edu.

Published on September 17, 2006 at 12:00 pm