9.12.05

Patchouli or Phlegm?

It's official. I'm old.

Last weekend, my friend Doug and I stepped out on the town. Doug managed to procure a pair of tickets for a stinky hippie show at Shea's Theatre. Phil Lesh & Friends dropped by with Chris Robinson, of Black Crowes fame. Now I've never been a fan of the Grateful Dead, but I attribute that fact to the fans more than the music.

I'm all for nostalgia, but personally I prefer to be nostalgic about an era in which I actually lived. I suppose that's why I hold "dead heads" in such disdain. There's such lack of originality in reminiscing and living out an era that died out twenty or so years before you were born. Granted, the 60's counter-culture is a bit more celebrated in the common consciousness we call Americana, but ultimately, what is it besides a bunch of college kids that became socially aware, did drugs and banged every skank from San Fransisco to New York? You could do that today, and you don't have to wear burlap and a tie-dye to do it.

We made our way through the crowd, past all the mesmerized, stoned dancers in the aisle, and found our seats inhabited by a few kids. Apparently they thought that the numbers on the row and seat were mere suggestions. Glossy-eyed, they were gracious enough to step aside. We managed to stay through two songs (granted, those two songs spanned 38 minutes) before Doug decided he'd had enough.

"Aaaaargh, I got patchouli on me. GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" Doug cried as we made our way out the door.

When we were leaving, the security guard told us, "Guys, if you leave, you can't get back in."

Promise?

Before we called it a night, we decided to stop in at the Town Ballroom to visit our friends Donny and Artie who work there.
Artie was in the lobby, so we chatted for a bit and popped our heads in to see the show. It was one of those god-awful new-metal/hardcore bands with one of those cleverly devised sentence fragments for a name. As I Lay Dying.... As you lay dying, WHAT, f*ckhead? Shit. If you even SAW the Grim Reaper coming towards you, I know you'd casually cross the street , pretending you don't see him.

As infinitely stupid as that band's name is, there's MORE. We were handed a flyer for an upcoming Holiday show featuring Every Time I Die, It Dies Today and Dead Hearts. Great timing... just at the height of suicide season.

As for the music, your run of the mill, unintelligible grunting over the dissonant crunch of hessian guitars. Throw in the stereotypical chubby bass player for good measure. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, judging by all the macho posturing in the "pit." Sweaty post-pubescents flailed their arms and pumped their fists wildly in approval. One boy strolled across the chaos and coughed up a visibly large loogie from the back of his throat and propelled it indiscriminately over the crowd. Very classy of you, Phlegmy Kilmister.

'Um, let's get out of here.'

On the way out, we saw one of the denizen of Testosterone Town come out of the bathroom wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a bandana across his face. I peered into his seedy little eyes, wondering if he fancied himself a suburban Zapatista or if he was a bit embarassed by a grill-full of acne.

In any case, I found myself wondering which was the lesser of the two evils: the stinky hippies or the suburban toy soldiers. Personally, I'm thinking the hippies. God. I can't believe I just said that. I think I'm going to ask my wife to grow armpit hairs and stop bathing. Growwwllll.

20 comments:

utenzi said...

Michele sent me by, Prego.

I went to school near there but avoided the "hippie music" when I was in school. Jerry Garcia even did a show at the college and I got 4 tickets but scalped them.

I'm sorry you didn't like the music or ambiance--next time Doug had better be more careful what tickets he buys. Patchouli oil is out there! Be wary.

Jacques Roux said...

I concur completely. It's not the Grateful Dead, it's the fucking Dead Heads that ruin it for me. And as far as the deathmetal bands and their mindless faithful, well let's just say that no amount of noise is ever an excuse for no talent. And more importantly, yes, Prego, you are old.

But some of us prefer wisdom over stupidity. I know, hard to believe such a notion lives in this fair land of ours.

Janet said...

Oh, patchouli by far! Hi, Michele sent me :-)

JV said...

Nice post, and I'm glad someone finally said what I've always thought about the people who keep trying to recycle '60s culture.

You made me feel like I was at the show with you. Not sure if that's a good thing. :)

Michele says hi.

Dave said...

Do not under any circumstances get your wife to grow armpit hair!

Here from Michele's, and I bet you are not old by the way.

Courtney said...

Here via Michele today, but I'll be back. The music roll is excellent, by the way.

Surcie said...

I think I could be more tolerable of the Dead Heads if it weren't for that stinkin' patchouli!

cassie-b said...

Michele Sent me.

Old? I'll bet not.

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

Here from Michele today, Prego! Interesting post...and FY! Having lived through the 60's it was about a lot more than Hairy Armpits and Hippies! (lol) It sounds like one of your truly horrific evenings...too bad....there has got to be something better!!

Tara said...

I don't think I would have had fun at either of those. But I listen to talk radio.
Michele sent me!

Dak-Ind said...

greetings! michele sent me


i am nostalgic, but not for the druig culture of the 60s, or the sex culture of the 70s. i do LOVE most of the music though. i enjoy frampton, joplin and hendriks. bu ti can live with out the patchouli oil, that stuff is STINKY!

cubmommy said...

I hate patchouli it gives me a headache. It reminds of me college though.

Thanks for stopping by my blog!

November Rain said...

careful Patchouli has fertility power LOl wink wink


thanks for stopping by my blog

Shannon said...

hello prego....ha it rhymes!
I never got into the dead, but i got into the patchouli :)

Shannon said...

ps michele sent me, but you knew that didnt you?

Plumkrazzee said...

Ack Patchouli. Double ack: Jasmine Rain. Triple ack: Sandalwood.

the patriarch said...

"As I Lay Dying" is the title of a book by William Faulkner.

glomgold said...

hahaha. Loud laugh at the skank line. A big ol' LOL as the kids say. Actually that's probably how adults think kids speak, I have no idea.
I will have to find time to dig through your old posts as this has all been a lot of interesting stuff so far.

Carmi said...

I've never understood how people can consciously live like that. It's like they never want to succeed.

Thank goodness I never found any of that culture remotely appealing. Frankly, they're boring.

Kat said...

Can I just say that I love your snarky humor?