Talking with your parents doesn’t spur anything, unless you do something massively important following the talk with the parents. And guess what?! I didn’t do anything massively important. That would involve disarming nuclear weapons in North Korea, or the US for that matter. In fact, I only went to the bar after talking to my parents… and guess what! It was completely unrelated to talking with my parents on the phone, this night!
I’ll be flat out honest with you, the reader. I’m not one to hang out at any type of bar alone. I don’t find false harbor in an environment where its just me, the strangers, and my friend, beer and liquor. I was raised in a grand community where drinking wine and beer was not allowed on Sundays. And I’ve kept to that Good Puritanism in my life. My parents indulged in the 80s, granted. I was born in ’78 and as any good 80s kid knows, his parents got a bit wild about the ‘lordy lordy look whos 40 party’ sometime during 1986. It’s just that I don’t find solace in a public place, I find solace where most people do, between me and my brain… a genuine antisocial, with a social streak.
What does this say? Not much. Just that I don’t hang out at bars alone. The only people that hang out at bars alone are people called ‘alcoholics.’ I rest my case. But on this night, a friend, Ethan, got promoted to being bartender. So I got off my butt, and got down to Leopold’s. I was excited for Ethan, shit, I’ve never had a good friend as a bartender. And you know what that means!? free drinks! for me and whoever showed up that i might know.
I called steve, I called matt. Nobody home on either case. I waited for louis, but no show. So I did as any self respecting friend and alcoholic (cheeeeeck, tonnnguee) would do, I headed to the bar alone. Playin’ it as a true gambler. I didn’t want to risk attracting too much attention anyway.
The dad said congrats to Ethan, good job bartendin! Awesome. The other Bartender was there, the one that multiple friends had been doggin. She’s cute, but you gotta love it when you can just sit back and say, ‘yeah, cute, but i got my own, and personally, i just like watching things unfold’ in your own head.
The Cubs almost won their first game in a shot at the Natiional League penant with a Sosa homer and I’ve never been so excited about a Team that hasn’t won in over 80 years. The dreadlocked dood even hit me on the back and gave me a high five after the homer. It was comradery all the way. And In a game of pool between me and ethan, I managed to outpool and win. Luck! cos Ethan is racquetball king. I played last night with Middlek and mentioned that Evandoo was really the only true competitor in the sport. Still is, I know it.
But really. The part of the night that I find interesting is when on two separate occasions, two women ask if seats are taken next to me. It’s a public place, no one is sittin in the seat, no one has stuff in the seat. Why do you insist on asking? No, maam, the seat in not taken.
On the first occasion, the lady asked then sat next to me and wrote in her journal the entire time, not saying a word except to pause and ook at her boyfriend/husband and communicate nonverbally to him about what the hell she was writing about. Amazing! It must have been some liquor thing. The second girl only occasionally wrote in her journal, but was courteous enough to talk with me and make some interesting conversation. I appreciated that.
She had an “Ann Arbor zine” with her. Oh man, I’m a coneauser (sp?) of zines. I did the distro thing for a long time. And all i can say is that for $1, you can buy a paper-stock zine of about 14 pages for $1 called Shuttlebus. But if you get this chance, don’t really do it. Granted, it’ll be interesting to read for a bit. But then you’ll read an article about how “indie rock” is going nowwhere because of various reasons, and it will cite how “emo” is one of them. Then say you should start a CDR label. Bugh. ugh. flop.
NEW PARAGRAPH! And I can understand how one might look at emo as this corporate movement. Shit! It really is. But the very act of picking out emo as pop music of the worst sort, is an act that relegates you to not existing in high school. Emo has been a target since those kids wanted to beat me up calling me an ‘emo fag,’ 8 years ago.
You must be atleast 22, or 21 to write this article, right? Where the fuck were you when ebullition was putting out amazing fucking records that reactionary hardcore assholes were calling emo cos they hated song structure or anything not ‘crusty’ enough? I bought an econochrist album the other day that probably no one ever labeled emo but existed onthe same label as EMO and i still thought it was relevant right now. It had amazing song structure, amazing vocals, amazing composition and amazing passion. I’m gonna burn that 7″ and put it on mp3 for the rest of the world to share. cos it deserves to be digital, although im sure its somewhere out there. But don’t come to me from some ann arbor perspective and start spouting about that, im just going to go back to high school and fight all the people that had no fuckin clue about the kids who came together from all different cities to get together and talk about things and spend nights on end putting together projects and for god knows why, other than they had real passion for what they were doing. Maybe that just goes to show it is all over, but why would you call it “indie rock.”
</drunk post>