My Kid and Loud Music

I married a Punker.  To be more specific, I married someone into Hardcore.  Hardcore evolved in the late 70's from the Punk scene.  It's loud, heavy music with vocals that aren't usually very melodic, more like yelling and screaming.  The lyrics are often about things that need to change in our society.  They don't tend to be emo or gentle.  I have been immersed in this scene since we started dating when I was 17.  Some of the bands I love, some I hate, some I am ambivalent toward.  We definitely have our own preferences, but he has introduced me to some incredible bands.  I have been to hundreds of shows (concerts).  Literally.  Between all the bands he was in, the two I was in with him, and all our friends' bands, plus all the other bands he had to see, my boots have paid their dues on the hard cement floors of various clubs, garages, parks and huge stadiums. 

When our son was about 3, I walked into the living room where the ultra loud, screaming band System of a Down was cranked up and our little guy was banging his head.  We couldn't be more proud.  J attended his first show at about 3 weeks old.  (We stayed in the lobby the whole time while E's band played.  Friends and family took turns hanging out with us.)  As a toddler, we introduced him to ear plugs.  He didn't dig them, but he hated loud sounds even more. 

Trust me, he had more fun than he appears.

For Christmas, E's Secret Santa (thanks, bro) got him 3 tickets to see Madball (a hardcore band from NY) and Comeback Kid (a band I LOVE from Canada) as well 3 other sets.  It was for a Thursday night.  E was supposed to be out of town working, but he fixed his schedule so he wouldn't miss it.  Jake was on the fence about going.  He didn't want to get "killed" in the pit.  (The mosh pit is where people thrash around.)  We assured him we would keep him safe.  Once I let loose the secret that I would be ditching work (ahem, "taking a personal day"),  the next day and he could too, he was all for it.  Yesterday was the big day.  They met up with me at my job and after taking an unexpected detour home to get the forgotten tickets, we cruised down to Ocean Beach, SD to get our buddy B.  We ate some serious BBQ at Phil's (if you are in San Diego, you've gotta try it.  Insane food!) and then headed over to the show.  Soma is a club in the Point Loma area.  It is big, has two stages and the decor leaves a lot to desire.  Well, they host metal and hardcore shows.  What can you expect?  At least there was toilet paper for most of the night.  The first band sucked, the second band was better than expected, the third band was one E loved but I couldn't care less.  The fourth band was Comeback Kid.  Yes.  I had given up my t-shirt to Jake.  How I obtained a size small Comeback Kid shirt was beyond me, but it fit him a lot better than it did me.  Besides, I had my eye on the long-sleeved T (that I happen to be wearing as I write this).  I was determined to get up close to the stage.  There wasn't a barrier to hold the crowd back, or any bouncer standing up front, arms folded,  to keep people from running up on the stage and jumping back into/onto the crowd.  The mosh pit was behind us and we stayed a bit to the side, so we could keep an eye on everyone around us.  I do hate a boot to the head or to be knocked over without warning.  B and E stood in front of us to block the people from stomping us.  I had one arm around J and the other ready to push anyone who got too close.  It was invigorating.  About 2 songs in, a body came flying right at us.  I had a couple of split-second thoughts simultaneously.  First, I had to get J out of the way so he wouldn't get clocked.  As I pulled him backwards, I thought that it was the singer and I felt bad that I wasn't going to be able to help break his fall.  I was wrong, it wasn't the singer and there were others ready to catch him.  I just grinned, heart pounding, and stayed back a little more with my son. 

Next thing you know, the biggest bouncer I have ever seen, pushed past us to deal with someone unruly in the crowd.  His t-shirt said "Soma" but later J thought that he mistook the name and applied for a job as "Sumo".  I felt better knowing he was there, watching over all of us.  The crowd was happy to be there and I didn't see any violence.  No fights broke out.  J didn't get "killed".  We got some new t-shirts and headed home, happy to sleep in on our stolen ditch day. 

Again, the kid is having fun, even though you can't tell from the pics.  :)