Any way I'm getting side tracked. Keep picturing eighth grade me. I'm not the coolest kid in school (and I never will be) but I'm also not the most unpopular, I'm right there in the middle. All though there is one incident where I'm invited to a party and right as I'm leaving for it I get called and get uninvited because there "are too many people there already", this become my first really shitty high school (middle school) experience. One of many. But that doesn't matter right now.
A couple of friends and I discover Rancid's Out Come the Wolves album, and I know nothing about punk rock at the time but I dig it. Ruby Soho is getting some pretty heavy play time on the radio (when radio stations used to be cool) and some friends and I decide it would be a good idea to go see Rancid live at the Roseland Theater in New York City. I'm all for it because I really want to hear todays song, Time Bomb.
We get to the Roseland and instantly I know I am waaaaaaaaay out of my element here. There are more mohawks and red suspenders then I could possibly understand and the venue is small (it's not until I'm older that I get to really appreciate the Roseland). The opening band is Rocket From the Crypt and it's a full on punk show, mosh pit, and crowd surfing. As Rancid takes the stage all 100 pounds of me gets pushed into a mosh pit circle with some pretty serious punks when out of no where some one grabs my elbow and guides me out. It's the nicest punk I've ever met and he doesn't say anything to me just gives me a little head nod as if to say "just enjoy the show". I take his advice.
In between acts my friends and I go downstairs and swing by the merch tables. I buy tons of those tiny little buttons with band logos on them of bands I love (and some that I sort of like) that I will later pin to a red and white stripped cat in the hat type hat. All of this makes me feel really cool, like I'm in on some sort of secret that no one else will understand except those of us at the Roseland.
This may not be the greatest concert I've ever been too, but as I get older it becomes one of my fondest. It throws me into a music culture that I was completely unaware of and I wish eighth grade me had known more about punk rock (besides the Sex Pistols and some Clash). I will grow to love to tell the story of the punk who probably saved my life, and at times relive a show that I was to young to appreciate (mostly when I listen to Rancid songs).
This is everything that goes through my head today as Time Bomb comes through my speakers. That and this picture of me wearing my tour shirt.
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