These are strange and confusing times. Hatred is everywhere and hugs are rare. Except at punk shows. At punk shows, everyone is unique and everyone is welcome. Even when the punk shows are in fancy clubs on popular streets. Location is no match for vibe. Give us a stage, we'll bring the rage. Last night featured 4 passionate bands, fantastic fans, and a sound-superman named Dan. Considering the recent events in our world, the room was still warm with artistic appreciation. And even at the end when the place suddenly transformed into a hip nightclub cage, I could still smell the sweet scents of togetherness, amid the stench of smashed bananas on stage.
My friend Reg bought me a shot of tequila before the show and we may have kissed on the lips? Who knows? My bro told me the shot was 'like having 2 beers' so I spun around right on the spot like a figure skater. Shut him down. He was just looking out for his ole bro, who sometimes slips on the banana peels of life before and after shows.
Shafer looked like a melting ghost after the set. He asked to borrow my towel but I hadn't stopped sweating yet. Sorry bud. I need this to protect me from the fast flow of water pouring from my forehead. Eventually it stopped, and I was able to sell merch and collect free beers without offending the church. Meanwhile, Shafe may have left some delicious vegan recipes in the VIP room sink. Who knows?
Always make sure to have a good guitar player in your band, to play all the hard parts. Our hard guitar player had a hard time shredding in that 'stume. But his screams were crisp and at least he didn't have to wear a dress this time. It was a loose set for all of us, but sometimes that's the only way to feel tight as a group. To laugh at mistakes, and swim in the soup.
Had a great heart-to-heart with Clay and Deems at the end of the evening. The result was this: It means a lot to me when my best friends come to shows and I get to yell at them that they are un-needed amid my massive success. These are the best kind of friends to have.
Never bored, never alone,
Ring, ring, ring, banana phone.
photo by Trav Anema