This weekend for date night, we went to a punk show. I feel like an incredible poser saying "punk show." But believe it or not in my formative years it was all I listened to. Introduced to it by my first boyfriend, who it turns out was emotionally abusive, and explains a lot about my relationship history. It took me a really long time to realize that he was an asshole, not me. From his first "You'd be so much prettier if you lost weight" to his last "If you loved me you'd have sex with me." I let it all sink in and still struggle with my self esteem. I'm not blaming him alone, there were lots of not so stellar people in my life that made me feel worthless. But you all know your first relationship and how it changes you.
What does this have to do with punk rock? Nothing. Just the roots of my musical education begin with the roots of my emotional miseducation.
Back to the present. Like I was saying my completely non-abusive, super amazing, teaching me to love husband took me to a punk show. Chaos in Tejas. We went to see Guitar Wolf. A Japanese gimmicky band. They were in a fun zombie movie called Wild Zero. I haven't been to a show, much less a punk show in years. I am an old lady, with babies!
I had forgotten how much I loved the punk scene. Little pushing mosh pits, fist pumping, screaming out the anthemic lyrics, and even the too cool for school people who have to look bored and nod their heads a little bit. I love it all. I also discovered a new band "Off With Their Heads." Who rocked my fucking socks off. I bought one of their CD's and jammed out on the way home.
I had a fantastic time. The venue was outside so it was hot as balls. (Balls are known for their hotness by the way.) We were near the port a potties that gave off an impressive stench of feces and chemicals. The cement floor was covered in water? beer? I was convinced it was pee sloshing onto my ankles by the end of the night. There were surly bartenders, who gave me the flattest coke ever. It came from a can, how did they make it flat? I got shoved into by sweaty people, and since I'm a girl I got the "Even though there is plenty of room, I am going to pretend like I have to squeesh past you and rub my dick on your ass accidentally." Robert didn't even get bumped into once!
I know it may sound like I am describing the crappiest day ever, but I'm describing the best time I've had in a long time without kids around. Sans the penis grazing. Even if you're not a huge fan, you should go to a punk show once. Yell, jump up and down. Try not to hook up with any emotionally abusive punk rockers. And practice elbowing people in the stomach if they try and rub up against you.
Have you ever been to a punk show? Or what's your equivalent?