Friday, August 03, 2007
warped: pitting your mosh
Today was eventful. Yeah, that's a good word for it... eventful. Stout and I worked security for the Van's Warped Tour. Yes, you read that correctly: mosh pit security. Well, actually, the first half of the day (before the Amazon-rainforest-like flood waters dropped from the heavens along with hail the size of Jupiter's largest freaking moons) I got to play VIP doorman for a bunch of snot-nosed teenaged skateboarders and pass out some new energy drink that was good until I had 12 or 13 and then noticed that my urine was nuclear-toxic-waste-florescent yellow (and I just answered you if you were wondering why I'm still awake and typing this at 4am after twelve hours of Warped madness). When the mini-flash-flood-bordering-on-Florida-scale-hurricane hit, about 15 people ducked for cover under the tent I was in charge of and we managed to collect random stuff like 40-gallon-drums used for garbage cans and large hinged wood pieces and utilized them as barricades to attempt to keep us dry (Ha! Yeah, right...my brain is still waterlogged and my Kenneth Cole shoes are now ruined... unless it's safe to put leather shoes in the clothes dryer, but I doubt it is). Anyhow, the rains went away, and the bands started back up again, just in time for my re-assignment to mosh pit security for one of the secondary stages. There were three memorable bands that I kind of heard while standing in front of a giant stack of speakers with one ear plug saving my right ear from complete, unrepairable damage and my finger constantly plugging my other ear to likewise save myself from a lifetime of repeating, "Wait, What?" These would be Evaline, mxpx, and the most hardcore shit I've ever heard live, Throwdown. It's odd because, I spoke with Ben the drummer for Throwdown before their show and he was the most polite and kind person I met all day. Wow, did that throw me off. I'm almost sure that he's the kind of guy that holds the door for women, saves kittens stuck in trees, and starts programs for the homeless... but then they played what I'll loosely call "music." Actually, I'm almost positive that their whole performance was some kind of purely-channeled evil, like some kind of electrically-conducted Satanic experiment that called upon ALL of the evil that ever existed everywhere and anywhere throughout all time and space and funneled it through that big stack of speakers behind me just to hurt my ears and make a bunch of teenage emo kids who wished they were really hardcore run around like idiots and smash into each other swinging their arms and kicking their legs like blind Tai Chi masters on lots of bad cocaine, but also hoping to God that no one actually hits them, because, like, that would hurt really bad and stuff. After Throwdown was finished playing, Ben asked me what I thought of their set, and I told him that it made me want to curl up in the corner, crying my eyes out harder than I ever have before, and repeating, "Mommy, make it stop!" Ben's reply, was, "That good, huh?!" Working the 311 concert tomorrow night will be a piece of cake after my day today. That's for damn sure.