Desperate Saturday Morning Police Chase

Long ago, getting tickets for a big-time rock concert often required camping out in line the day before. The notorious lines for tickets to see the likes of Led Zeppelin, Bruce Springsteen, Kiss, Bob Seger, The Rolling Stones, The Who and other huge acts became their own rock subculture and almost a right of passage for a young concert goer.
The days of waiting in long lines for tickets pretty much is a thing of the past, replaced by high-octane, white-knuckle, chaotic, sometimes heartbreaking online ticket purchases.
Earlier this year, when The Police announced a reunion and tour, I decided I needed to take the wife to go see them. The Police concert I saw March 20, 1982, still ranks among my Top 5 all-time favorites, and I've seen A LOT of concerts. It remains the only big-venue show on my Top 5. The trio, touring behind their album, "Ghost in the Machine," put on an energetic show full of surprises and jams that were neither too short nor too long.
I like bands that can engage in improvisation, hitting a groove but not dragging it out for 30 minutes, like the Grateful Dead, Blues Traveler and others often did. I don't like it when a band plays their album stuff note-for-note. That's just boring.
On Friday night, while listening to a Houston-based classic rock station while on the way back from getting takeout pizza, I caught the announcement that Police tickets would go on sale 10 a.m. Saturday.
So there I was 9:58 a.m. Saturday, nervously sitting in front of the home computer and armed with a credit card and big mug of coffee.
The tickets went on sale at exactly 10 a.m. out of the Toyota Center web site.
And then the frenzy began.
I made the fatal error of trying to get picky about the seats, whose prices ranged from $50 to $225. I went for the $90 seats, and, only seconds into the adventure, the first pair that came up were behind the stage.
Unacceptable.
So I went back and tried the "best available" option, knowing that thousands of tickets were flying out of availability with every passing second.
What came up were $225 seats way back on the floor.
No way.
After a few more stabs, I stumbled upon some great $90 seats in the same section where I sat back in 2005 to see The Rolling Stones. Filling out the requisite information, I panicked when I looked up on the left side of the computer screen to see a timer counting down.
23 ... 22 .... 21 ... 20 ...
I filled out the last box and hit "continue" with only a second or two to spare, but then I got an "error" message, saying the e-mail address I provided had an existing account, and I needed to provide a password.
Poof! Those tickets were gone.
With my panicked wife sitting behind me and the kids locked out of the room, I hollered several expletives at the computer screen. Subsequent attempts yielded nothing but crummy seating. The pickings were getting slim, and I was trying every ticket option I could. The only hope became for some other schmuck out there in the ticket derby to have his shot clock expire and his tickets released back into the emotionally bloody feeding frenzy.
Finally, on yet another "best available" attempt, I scored two tickets on the lower prom right next to the stage.

Wife: "Honey, those are $225 tickets."
Me: "Screw it. I'm going for them."

Buyers fever had set in.
Earlier, I had tried my work e-mail, but due to the existing account - and me not remembering the password - I couldn't use that one again, so I tried another e-mail account.
Unfortunately, I apparently had used that e-mail account as well to buy tickets and again got an "error" message.
Poof! Those tickets were gone.

Me: "%$^$#@!@!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Son No. 1 (from outside the locked door) : DADDY WHAT'S WRONG?
Me: "GO AWAY!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"
Son No. 1 (giggling): "OK, daddy. Bye bye!"

At this point, I realized my attempts were futile. My wife knew her Toyota Center password, so I grabbed my coffee, went outside the house and let her jump into the Internet fracas. I couldn't stand to watch.
Minutes later, as I angrily paced around the driveway, she emerged from the house to inform me that she'd scored some OK seats for $90 on the upper prom on the side.
I guess every little thing she does is magic after all. Based on a little Internet research this morning, it appears the show sold out in 30 minutes. Scalper tickets in eBay were going for as high as $1,495.
I don't know how I feel about online purchases versus the old-school long waits.
On one hand, it's nice to have the ticket-buying process compressed into a few frenzied minutes. On the other hand, if you're waiting in line, you can at least see your competition and know where you stand.