I guess I was punk once.

[thepeopleseason]

You're not punk, and I'm telling everyone.
Save your breath; I never was one.

--Jawbreaker, "Boxcar"

So despite my living in Atlanta, what could very well be considered a cultural mecca compared to the armpit that is Suburban Miami, I'm a bit on the fence as to what to do this Friday evening.

On one hand, batnandu and Earnie will likely be up at the bar playing chess (CHESS?!!? on a friday??!). As much as I'd like to work on my chess game, which I really need to do, The Donnas are playing at the Masquerade tonight. The problem is I've long since moved past the time where I had any sort of punk street cred.

Well there was the last Hot Water show that I went to (err...that I actually got to see Hot Water Music play, that is...fuck the Tabernacle for starting the show at 8:00 pm. Who the hell starts a punk show on time??), the merch guy noticed my Spoke shirt (the one that I sleep in now), and gave me a free No Idea comp CD just because I was wearing it.

But lately I've turned into a old, preppy guy--hell, I dress in turtlenecks and peacoats from Old Navy. I feel completely out of place wearing an old flannel and some 11 year old shirt.

And the young kids who go to see these shows, which, of course, have to be all-ages shows--they're all angry at the world, raising their sweaty fists to the beat of the music, clomping around and denting the bulbous toe of my Frankensteinian Doc Martens.

I just can't keep up...