I spent the past weekend with my heroes.

YES is on tour in the states. Their second and third shows were here in the San Francisco Bay Area: Konocti Resort Harbor up at Clear Lake, and the Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View.

I've seen YES every tour but one since I fell in love with them as a kid. I've followed every album, every personality clash, every shift in personnel. (Sometimes YES even makes Spinal Tap look normal.) Sure I have my favorites among the players, but I'm like a faithful Mets fan: win or lose, strong line-up or weak, they're my team.

My fandom was cemented on the 20th of June, 1979. At that point the current line-up of cosmic Jon Anderson on vocals, thunderous Chris Squire on Bass, the uniquely poetic Steve Howe on guitars, flamboyant Rick Wakeman on keys, and stalwart Alan White on drums had been together (for the second time in this incarnation) for 3 years. I was an excited tenth grader going to my first rock concert'not coincidentally, my favorite band.

I had a moment that night that shaped my destiny, as both a fan and, later, a performer. For those of you who have not seen them, a YES concert is a spectacle of sound, light and energy, intricate compositions performed with vigor and prowess. They rock hard while wearing their pedigree boldly on their sleeves. I had been listening to them attentively for three years at that point, thanks to my older brothers. But seeing them perform live - specifically seeing Chris Squire working his magic with a Rickenbacker bass - made me a fan for life.

Now, in 2002, this line-up is back. There have been eight versions of YES (plus one that couldn't call themselves YES, because it didn't include Chris Squire, who had the legal rights to the name at that time) since I first saw them in '79. The Classic Five actually did re-unite once in that mess'in 1996, for a whopping total of three shows.

I drove up to Clear Lake for Yescapade 2002 last week. Yescapade is a gathering of Yes fans to meet each other and, hopefully, to meet the band. Last year was the first Yescapade, also at Konocti Resort Harbor. It's the brainchild of a couple friends, and I was included last year to perform my sax-quartet arrangements of YES as SAXLIFE.

This year I opted for a staff position instead. I took tickets at the door, met old friends, made new ones. We needed change for the cash box and I was sent down the hill to the hotel lobby. Coming out with a fistful of fives I see Rick Wakeman walking past the building. Just like a normal person.

I've met all the guys before, save Rick. I ask him if he needs a lift somewhere (no thanks, just having a walk), and welcome him back. I tell him not to get too freaked out by us zealous fan-types. He was quite jovial, said that the fans are great, and the band was really looking forward to the gathering. I speed off.

On my way uphill I realise the enormity of the moment. That Rick is back. That the Classic Five are really back. And that they're ALL HERE. The five guys who started it for me.

I started to get a little loopy then. (The hot sun and the warm beer helped.) Cherokee, one of the co-organizers, asked me if I could accompany the guys shooting the video, maybe get some on-camera interviews with some fans. Sure! I aim for the foreigners, being one myself.

20 minutes later she tells me we need to start the giveaways, and Bob (Relayer Bob, the other co-organizer) is not feeling well. Sure! Give me the mic! (Brief aside: I perform for a living, and giving me a mic and an audience can be a dangerous combination. I don't recommend it.)

[We do - Bob]

A half-hour later, the goodies are gone and Bob is still ill. As the band makes their way to the dais for the interview, Cher tells me that it's mine if I want it. LEMME AT 'EM!

So she hands me a handful of notecards and I'm off. Problem is, the questions are lame and I know it, as does the band who proceeds to tell me how lame they are. But I was a bit of a deer in the headlights, not quite able to come up with that juicy question about the ceramic tiles in the '74 recording sessions. So instead I asked them about their golf scores and where they had been sailing and'when all else failed'how the events of 9/11 affected them. Terrible. I can blame it on the note cards, but it came out of my mouth.

[Actually, he only had my very brief notes of what questions various fans had asked, and did a great job improvising - Bob ]

So: I got to shoot the shit with my heroes, but I was Conan O'Brien reading cue cards on a bad night.

Still, it was nice to feel their united front, even if it was against my lameness. They all seemed relaxed, definitely.

Next: the show.

The Show: 19 July, Konocti Resort Harbor

This was the second night of the tour. I had managed to stay off the net for the past few days, and was blissfully ignorant of the setlist. Brother George and I had a second-row seat, just off-center. The show began just a bit past 7 pm, and daylight showed thru most of the set'not ideal. It was actually still hot, the sun setting behind the band and on their backs.

I have a difficult time at concerts. Or more specifically, at Yes concerts. I want to focus simultaneouly on 6 things, I want to sing at the top of my voice, I want to stand and dance like a stoned hippie. I also don't want to detract from anyone else's enjoyment of the concert. So I find myself alternately leaping out of my chair, head banging and air-bassing for a moment and hitting the high harmony, then sheepishly melting back into my seat. This night I had to physically hold my own head to keep my arms from flailing about. (Good thing I still have hair.) Someone later told me they thought my head was going to explode.

Meanwhile I am having my own emotional reaction to being in the presence of these humans who have created that which I find divine. To having their performance of their creations wash over and through me, lifting me up, awakening me, touching my soul as nothing have or perhaps will.

I look up and find my face wet with tears, my body shaking in ecstacy. And trying to hold it in, not be a spectacle.

Yes performed South Side of the Sky. This seems a simple statement, but is far from it. Yes are one of those batches of mostly self-taught musicians who sometimes have difficulty re-creating live what they made in the studio. South Side was one of these. It has been pulled out and rehearsed many times over the years, but shelved before it could find its own wings.

They played South Side of the Sky tonight. From start to finish, including the vocal bridge, which was considered even more unlikely than the actual playing of South Side of the Sky, bridge or no bridge.

They played The Revealing Science of God tonight. An epic on the scale of the Bible.

They played Awaken tonight. An epic on the scale of the Universe.

Did they play well? Mostly. I would give the performance a C minus. Yes usually needs a few weeks at the start of the tour to really get into gear. Do I find that fair as a fan? No. Is that professional? Hardly. But this is rock and roll. This is Yes. Will I take a mediocre Yes performance over almost anything else? Whenever it's offered.

I had an awesome time. I heard every mistake, I cringed at the sludgy tempos, I chuckled at the bobbled transitions. I marveled at the interplay of my two favorite vocalists. I was floored by the beauty of Steve's acoustic work. I was blessed to hear these favorites, by these guys, at this time. And my head didn't explode, although it came close several times.

So: accentuate the positive, or emphasize the negative: Yes is, to me, about optimism. They have never claimed to be perfect. But they take what they have, and combine it in a way that highlights each member's strengths and downplays their weaknesses. Here are five guys in their fifties, kicking ass in a young man's game. God bless the boys. I'll listen until they send me home.