If it's in your blood, you never grow out of it….
Yet another blog entry that I feel am months late in posting. Really, it's only been about a month. Maybe a month and a half.
Back at the beginning of December, I got the chance to see Street Dogs at Reggie's. This was awesome for many reasons. The two most important being that Reggie's is my favorite venue in the city, and Street Dogs is one of my favorite bands on this earth.
Heading to a punk show alone (as usual) gives me a lot of to contemplate my life and the directions I've chased in my 31 years in the world. I almost always come to the same conclusion: I have no regrets.
I remember my first punk rock show. Less Than Jake at The Corral sometimes in 1995, or 1996. I was alone then too, having just split with my closest group of high school friends. I was a bit lost, feeling like I didn't fit in anywhere.
That show was a revelation. Here was a place that I could make friends effortlessly. A place where I wasn't that painfully shy, awkward teenager. Here was music that beat in time with my heart.
It's been almost 15 years since that show, and I find myself running with the same crowd. I have been ridiculed for listening to music that is so seemingly way out of date. I don't bring my friends with me, because they aren't into this like I am.
But standing there, watching some awesome Boston punk the same thing is true: This is the music that beats in time with my heart.
This "scene," this sound, really, is what's in my blood. It's been with me for 15 years. This is who I am.
