Saturday, July 20, 2002

CD: Shel Silverstein #3 (homemade compilation)

I was at a show yesterday that tried really really really to cater to the Extreme part of society. You know, the snowboarding/BMX/Do the Dew kind of people created by Madison Avenue. Everyone had a pretty good time, but some of it was kind of forced upon us. Stop asking us if we're having a good time! And while we're at it, you can only say "I can't HEAR you!" so many times.

But like I said, it was still a good show. The Extreme people got to see their favorite Extreme sports, the new rockers got to see some decent bands, and the moshers got some action in, too. Preferably, I like the mosh pit far away from myself, so I try to stay somewhere on the side or farther back in the middle. Yesterday, a Second Mosh Pit started behind me as well, creating a Mosh Sandwich. In the center of the sandwich was a two year old kid, who was held by a father that carried the boy in the left hand and kept the crowdsurfers at bay with the right. Nothing happened, but why? Why would you take a two year old child to an environment of adult substances and loud adult language, and then take them to a crowded area next to people that are literally trying to punch each other in the face? Well, I don't have all the answers. Maybe they couldn't find a babysitter that night.

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