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I'm back to posting to my personal site after a long hiatus.  I decided to scrap the old stuff and start from scratch.  Partlly because I have never been a very good blogger, and partly because I wanted to shift to a clearer focus -- posting about fun geeky shit, maybe some fun professional stuff but not the serious stuffy junk I had put on before that was overly technical and largely impenetrable to my friends and family. 

So, here we go...

I went to my first "rock show" in a long time last night.  The quotes are well deserved-- first because this "rock show" was held in a coffee shop after closing time.  Second because the "rock show" consisted of one band playing for about 45 minutes. and Third because the band in question was really more like punk in my definition.  But all of that is sort of irrelevant.

I should say, that I actually did have a good time, truly better than I expected.  I had originally posted up in a distant corner to heckle with my friend Jen in a "Stadtler and Waldorf" fashion.  But before the first song was over I was standing up, feet away from the "mosh pit" bobbing my head, throwing the horns, and generally having a good ol' time.   

Now, I didn't catch the name of the band, and I asked Jen tonight if she knew it.  "I wouldn't be surprised," she replied, "if they were too underground to have a name."  Well put.  They put on a good show though, certainly energetic and full of just enough self-deprecation.  The singer started out by thanking the Tobacco Bowl staff for allowing them to play, and then thanking "all the record label folks that are here, that are going to help us blow up so we never have to play places like this again."  If I find the name of the band I will put it in an update or something, but don't hold your breath.

Anyway the Bowl was packed with teens and early twenties that were projecting a calculated social awkwardness.  There was ample representation of scoliosis, thick-rimmed glasses and orthopaedic shoes. There was a clear gap in the crowd between the feeble attempt at a "mosh pit" full of furious head banging and light shoving, and the mere headbobbers.

I left with that "skull ringing" feeling and a bit of nostalgia for the old Cedar Falls punk shows in basement of the Varsity Cleaners that almost always ended with blood, and the occaisional concussion, that I attended as a pre-teen in the late 80's and early 90's.


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