I’m sitting at the Columbus airport, it’s 5:05am, I’m in a wheelchair and my ankle can only be described as fucked up. The cops and paramedics were hella cool and Carey mixed a sweet vodka infused vitamin water zero roadie that I’m nursing while we wait to fly. Best part is that we ditched the handle of vodka in the garbage outside only to retrieve it thirty minutes later to make the pain and airport boredom manageable. Lol Up The Punx.
So three songs into our pitboss 2000 reunion set tonight during “blow the ladder” I found a soft spot in the stage and I rolled the ankle. I’ve rolled this ankle before many times at shows. The last time it was this bad, it was the summer of 97, I was in Detroit watching Machine Head and Corrosion of Conformity and after I sang a Cromags cover with MH I noticed there was a shit head seig Heiling in the front row which is enough of an open invitation for violence so we jumped off the monitor and my left foot found his shoulder and my right foot found his face and I dropped 370 lbs of fat kid on him which knocked him out but I traded an ankle for it.
Maybe that’s karma coming back that one song after we did “Driving with your Chin Aka the Ballad of Christopher Reeve” where we lyrically bash the handicapped I hemmed up my ankle.
Everything happens for a reason and I’m enjoying being able to be lazy and sit around buzzed in my wheel chair. Maybe it’s a wake up call that my 40 year old ass needs to stick to jokes and leave the young mans game of hardcore to the young dudes. Maybe, except every dude I respect is still doing this in their 30s to 60s and I’m gonna keep it up and enjoy it while it’s here.
Columbus hasn’t changed, the kids and music hasnt changed my friends haven’t changed and I can always count on that.
We used to practice twice a week in a warehouse and we hung out and did shows in 2000, 11 years later, same practice space, same songs, but it didnt feel one bit like 11 years had passed, there’s something about being involved that stops the aging process.
I am gonna stay young until I die, why? Because I get to choose to. Everyday, every choice, to not be jaded to accept what is and to no longer resist this universe.
I just wheeled my way through security, I was prodded, wanded and searched for bomb residue and I made the best of the process, what else could I do I’m internally raging on vodka and no sleep.
There was a dude in the handicapped stall in the Mens room…. what an asshole. Can’t you see that’s for people who need it ;).
For the cripples…. Cause they can’t mosh.
Everybody move it!
Whiskey and The Surfer 