Monday, March 14, 2005


We went to see Modest Mouse on Friday. The show absolutely rocked. It was a bit disappointing that the set was dominated by the new album, but I guess that's what happens when a band goes on tour after releasing a hit album. It was also a bit disappointing that there were so many people there who weren't stoked on (or maybe just weren't aware of) their earlier stuff. They played some really good stuff that I wasn't expecting to ever hear live, like Wild Packs of Family Dogs and Tiny Cities Made of Ashes. Tiny Cities was absolutely phenomenal. They played Cowboy Dan and Bodie and I were dancing and jumping and all that good stuff, all the while surrounded by a bunch of people just standing there. I wanted to run up to them and shake them until they realized the coolness of what was going on. "It's Cowboy Dan! COWBOY DAN!" But alas, I didn't.

During the encore we were standing near the back by the bar area. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of seeing a show at the Showbox, the bar areas are raised up a few feet and have tables and what not. So the people right behind us were a few feet taller than us (which is good, since I usually feel bad at shows because I'm always that annoying tall person who stands right in front of you). All of a sudden, this random drunk dude standing behind me starts playing the bongos on my head. Let me give a recap until this point: The whole show I've been standing in the back, being pushed this way and that, all the while trying to keep people away from my shoulder. My arm is in a sling and it's getting really sore. I'm bummed that I can't get closer and all I really want to do is enjoy the show. Now this fucker starts playing the fucking bongos on my fucking head. I was so absolutely pissed. I turned around and told him off and moved away. But then I just started getting angrier and angrier. I wanted nothing more than to go over to that drunk guy and beat him up. Me! Wanting to beat someone up! I don't think I've ever thought that about anyone before! Was it the standing around being sore and frustrated for five hours? Was it the fact that I was surrounded by drunk idiots and they were rubbing off on me? Is it all my pent up anger that was unloaded on that guy who, really, was just probably trying to get a laugh?

Needless to say, I didn't go beat him up. Bodie said I should have just turned around and punched him in the balls. He's right. I should have. I think I spent the whole drive home thinking about how I wished I could have punched him. I've never punched anybody.

Drunk bongo head guy, if you're out there, you're forgiven, but I'd still like to punch you. It would be a good release. I don't think I punch very hard. It probably wouldn't even hurt. How 'bout it?

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