Every kid is my brother here.

Got up to the bar tonight and had a beer, two, five, buddies buying, my night off. Over time, it's like we pass a 20 between ourselves, my rounds this week, yours next.

Same crowd, new night. Same steps: greet your way around the bar, down two, join the parade out to the back corner of the parking lot, wander back inside to the pitcher. A gal I know was dealing with unwanted advances, so I put my solid bulk between her and the fellow. Better to puke on yourself and pass out next to the building than to be that guy, eyes rolling in different directions, unable to understand that he's got no shot tonight.

And the horns roar out, 3rd 4th 5th wave ska, arms and legs flying around the pit in front of the band. The beat thumps into me and I find myself loud, chanting oi! oi! oi! oi! and catching grins, up on the toes of my boots. Another beer, the band ends, home again.

the best of times

You know, I really don't share all that much on this blog. It's too public. I don't get into discussions about my sex life, my spiritual beliefs, or the finer points of my wider politics. I don't go on about the details of my work woes or how I'd rather be at the bar, double fisting Pabst.

That was me on Friday with two friends, waiting for the Lucky Scars to hit the stage. They're a local streetpunk/oi band, and they put together a fundraiser for cancer research - called it Breast Cancer Beatdown. There's a joke or two to be made about a cancer benefit in a smoke-clogged dive bar, and they all got made that night, I tell you what.

The cause was worth but entirely superfluous to my night. Some people go to church to center themselves and feel at peace with creation. Some walk in the woods or jump off of bridges or eat mushrooms or race cars. But for me it's live music. Just about anything will do in a pinch - bluegrass on the porch, marching bands making the streets ring and crash. But to be in the crowd at a punk show, in my home bar, brothers and sisters around, singing along. Moments like those are the reason some of us never give up the scene, though we let the drama and street level politics largely fall by the wayside.

My knees are shot from standing on concrete in boots and tripping over kids in the pit, so I don't mosh anymore. I try to pay my bills on time these days, so you don't find me blowing my paycheck at the bar every night anymore. My favorite little subgenres of punk rock aren't as popular as the current trends, so there's not a show every weekend anymore. But when the call goes out, I can't help but answer it. With a beer in each hand and a smile on my face.

When I go out to play with my friends...

...this is what it looks like. This is why mainstream pop/rock concerts make no sense to me.

there and back again

Well, I rode Greyhound to DC, hung out with my girlfriend, helped partially convert an old Merz to run on veggie oil, walked all over town, rode down to Atlanta in said Mercedes, got drunk and happy at a small oi festival, ate gravy and biscuits, and came on home. Check it out:

Smithsonians ahoy! We basically did every free thing in DC.



We walked all over the National Mall, and settled down to rest some near Grant in front of the Capital. This is my gal Leila, footsore but still smiling.



Thems as know me know my fear of frogs and toads. Seriously, they scare the bejesus out of me - no idea why. So here I am saying, "Oh, no, a frog!" at the National Zoo.



Then we hit Atlanta for a big oi! show. Here I am with Kel and Perry - Kel writes for my zines from time to time and Perry's known for being in The Templars, among other bands. Class folks, they live over in Jax when not drinking heavily in Atlanta.

4 weeks, 4 shows

Normally, the most annoying thing a friends' band can do is play out too much in too short a time. Burnout ensues. It stops being fun to sing along and starts feeling like an obligation to show up to most of the shows.

My bros the Lucky Scars are playing 4 shows in the next four weeks. For once, I'm looking forward to the whole thing. They're hitting all my favorite venues - The Shed off Macomb, St. Mike's on Gaines, and The Beta Bar - plus that new oyster joint next to the round Holiday Inn. Bird's, I think it's called, and I hear they serve up good grouper sandwiches and $1 Pabsts. I think I'll work up a piece for my music zine comparing the joints, the sound systems, any bouncers present, price of booze, how the rest of the crowd reacts - you know what I mean.

Plus, the cast of characters playing with them is changing up each time. I'll be catching a few local acts I really enjoy - Neon Touch, County Hell, some other fun bands - and a few I've been told I have to see to believe.

As long as they don't make a habit of it, I think this should be a good month for oi and punk here in Tally town. It's going to be a long, dry summer for touring acts. When gas hits $4 a gallon, no one's going to be taking their music to the masses. So this strikes me as a good way to really dig into the homegrown heroes and watch the boys rock out.