no. (roses_rejoice) wrote,

Saturday, In the Pit, Hey Baby It's the Fourth of July.

OK so they din't play that one - I was just as glad, believe me (don't ask). They played all the old classic upbeat schtuff. I would like to publicly thank the goddess Exene for making the world safe for chubby old big-bosomed punk chicks who look like refugees from a polka-bingo parlor.

Billy Zoom was there wailing entrancingly on a Gretsch, the only guitar I love more than Gibsons. I shook his hand and he made funny faces at me, so I bought a T-shirt of him. For a Gretsch, I will act like a fanperson.

There was even a mosh pit. It was a fairly polite pit, there weren't bodies sailing off the speaker stacks like the Flying Wallendas or anything, but still...a mosh pit at the New 9:30! Without the enforcers rushing in! I'm just sorry idioticpoet wasn't there.

All ages is *really* getting to mean ALL ages. I think I saw people from age 10 to age 60. I was watching this one little 5'4" round fat totally gray-haired guy with a 'stache, who looked sort of like Cap'n Kangaroo. He pogoed up and down literally all night when he wasn't moshing. I could see him (along with about half the happy ol' geezers in the front rows and the pit) starring in an ad for arthritis painkillers or Geritol, in which Gramps pops a pill and hours later is hoisting some pierced dreadlocked spike-clad 20something over his head for a crowd surf. Madison Avenue needs to hop on it. I heard "Touch of Gray" on the car radio driving home and laughed at it not being a thrash version.

So, yeah, Grace Slick can go shove a liposuction machine up her bum and a DVD of The Big Chill right behind it. Except for that sad-but-true scene of Glenn Close bawling in the shower.
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