So, my honey and I went to a full on, balls out, hardcore show last night. Doors opened at 6, the first performer went on at 7. It was at a coffee shop.
A coffee shop called Baxter's Cafe next to the Salt Lake Community College South Campus nee South High School.
A coffee shop which, despite the lack of smoke and booze, reminded me and Curt of lots of old punk clubs: cinder block walls, hard floors... You know the places.
When we walked in, paying our $5 for 6 bands, we were the oldest people in the place, old enough for me to have been a college graduate and still been the mother of at least half of the crowd. We must've looked like either parents or narcs.
My friends Nick and Mike were playing. They're in Dubbed a hard core, ska, fun as hell band who are good and I'm not just saying that because those Yankees fans are friends of mine - despite being Yankees fans. Of course they played last so we listened to everyone else, too. They were all pretty good, though the bands got better as the night progressed, let's just say you can tell which bands practice. It was the bands with older members who were tight and gave off more energy than the younger performers.
Turns out that my sweetie knew people in one of the bands as well, after all he's played guitar and occasionally bass in several bands since he was in his teens.
Anyway, it was loud, fast, young, hard and a lot of fun. I may not dance anymore, and I never danced much, but I didn't feel too old to throw an elbow when the pit got too close to where I was standing.
Oh yeah, Curt and I are still giggling like cartoon mice a little more than six months later and my friends can still make me blush. Oh the happiness.
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