(no subject)
Yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from my friend Chris. He asked me if I wanted to go hear some live punk rock. The friend he was going to go with had to bail for health reasons, and he had an extra ticket he was willing to sell me at a dirt cheap price. My poor impulse control kicked in and I said "yes" enthusiastically. Then I hung up, and I was filled with uncertainity. I don't have any appropriate clothes for a punk concert, and I would probably be one of the oldest people there. It would mean being out late, and my ears would be assaulted. "Did I really want this?," I asked myself over and over again. The band was Fear, a group I hadn't heard of. Hey, it was thirty years since my last punk rock concert. I hadn't exactly kept up with the scene, you know?
In the end I went. My monkey curiosity, the thing that that brought me to a Sisters of Mercy concert two years ago had kicked in.
I'm glad I went. I had a great time. My friend Chris has a very bad back and he brought a wheelchair with him because he can't stand for very long at all. The House of Blues was quite accommodating. They placed us just behind the sound boards, and they voluntarily brought me a folding chair. We could see the stage part of the time and watch the moshing which was a delight. (A delight that is, except for the couple of idiots who were spitting on the lead singer of Fear. That got them ejected.) I didn't have to thrash about which was a relief for my old knees, but I sat and listened and grinned from ear to ear a lot. I didn't grin at the misogyny of one of their songs, but overall, my inner angry child had a great time.
In the end I went. My monkey curiosity, the thing that that brought me to a Sisters of Mercy concert two years ago had kicked in.
I'm glad I went. I had a great time. My friend Chris has a very bad back and he brought a wheelchair with him because he can't stand for very long at all. The House of Blues was quite accommodating. They placed us just behind the sound boards, and they voluntarily brought me a folding chair. We could see the stage part of the time and watch the moshing which was a delight. (A delight that is, except for the couple of idiots who were spitting on the lead singer of Fear. That got them ejected.) I didn't have to thrash about which was a relief for my old knees, but I sat and listened and grinned from ear to ear a lot. I didn't grin at the misogyny of one of their songs, but overall, my inner angry child had a great time.