Music Begins!!!

Being too young to do anything of consequence, yet too old to entertain with imagination alone, Huntington Beach gave my friends and I

THE WRECK ROOM

.

We were 13, and far too young to get in to this "all ages" venue for professional skating exhibitions and local bands. Being the rat of a local skate shop, the shop's amateur was able to sneak us in.

There was no dancing, moshing, crowd surfing, not any physical displays of enjoyment allowed, PERIOD. It was the music that troubled kids listen to, and being too young to understand the cliche, I wanted ALL OF IT.

One night, Guttermouth was the head lining band. When the lead took the stage, he read aloud the signs prohibiting all forms of movement, then, looking at the security guards, challenged, "Good luck!"

Instantly, the place was alive with violent music and I was loving every minute of it.

During the song, "Bruce Lee vs The Kiss Army," I just started running as fast as I could, and jump kicking people in the audience, in the mosh pit, anywhere I could reach them.

It took 2 security guards to physically throw me out.

I pleaded with the door guard,

"I wasn't moshing, I was just trying to get out of there. Look at how small I am! Can I go back in there? I'll stay away from the mosh pit. Please?"

He let me in.

And when I got thrown out the second time, I decided that music was going to be a big part of my life, for the rest of my life.


Blog #14. Unknown Day, 13th Year. Complete.

Retrospection:
I often feel sad for men who never liked punk music. Whether or not they like it now is inconsequential. It is the sound of the way a young boy feels; your body itself is in a war to go from boy to man, and to not understand it, is to truly not understand the violence that surrounded you, engulfed you, and made you. Every word of this post is cliche. It's also true.