Well, the jury is in, and I am so totally not punk rock. I lived the lifestyle for two days and now I�m exhausted with a fever. We didn�t even get around to doing any needle drugs.
Punk Rock Matt and his equally (although less obviously) punk rock friend James rolled into town on Saturday afternoon, and as requested, I took them out for some fancy vegan food followed by some serious drinking.
Earlier that afternoon, I had called my friend B to ask what vegan restaurant I should take them to. (I often use B as my own personal concierge. He really hasn�t lived here that much longer than I have but somehow he picks up local cultural information like a sponge.) He suggested Carmelita, and while I was talking to him on the phone he went to the website and made a reservation for us. There was a section on the reservation form for comments, and so B typed, �A very well-known musician will be joining us, so if possible, we would prefer a secluded table where we won�t be disturbed.� I tried to talk him out of it but once B gets an idea in his head that�s pretty much the end of it.
A couple of hours later, a woman from the restaurant called to confirm my reservation. �We have a back room with only a few tables in it�will that be secluded enough for your special guest?� I said that would be fine.
I should tell you that Punk Rock Matt has bleached blond, spiky hair. He wears studded wristbands and belts and a studded jacket/vest thingy, tight black pants, and very serious boots. He looks like Billy Idol but with more sharp parts. James isn�t quite as scary-looking, but he too could easily pass for a rock star. They are actually very sweet boys, but they stand out.
So anyway. As you might imagine, we made quite a sensation in the restaurant, which was on Phinney Ridge, a mostly quiet, hippie/yuppie little section of town. Our waitress was very nice to us (whether out of fear or professionalism, I couldn�t say), and the hostess and wait staff did a lot of subtle pointing and whispering. I was probably taken for a groupie/den mother type person, being significantly less rock n� roll than James or Matt.
After that I took them to Linda�s and the Cha Cha, where they blended in much better. Both of them loved the Cha Cha because they happened to be playing some little-known punk band while we were there. Much alcohol was consumed, etc. etc.
The whole punk rock phenomenon is kind of fascinating to me. It�s not just music, it�s a religion. And even though I privately think it�s a little bit silly to devote your life to worshiping very loud music, I gained a certain amount of respect for my two pet punk rockers by the end of the weekend. For one thing, I�m always impressed by people who manage to get that excited about anything�the two of them had flown all the way out here basically just to see some Japanese punk band they liked who wasn�t doing any East coast dates. And they were going to three shows, one here and two in Portland. I mean, I like books and stuff, but no way would I fly across the country to get one. Another thing that impressed me was that they were instant friends with all the other punk rockers they met. I took them down to Singles Going Steady, the record store in Belltown, and they immediately befriended the store owner and most of the clientele.
I will say, though, that I remembered why I broke up with Matt when we were in high school, and it wasn�t the hair. People who love to listen to 7 inches and talk about 7 inches all the time, well, they kind of have to stick together, because nobody else cares. It�s like people who smoke pot all the time and always want to tell you about the sweet new bong that they got or whatever. I have no problem with obsessive hobbies but the ensuing conversations can be very tedious.
There�s more I could tell you, but the DayQuil makes me stupid. I�m going to go home now and wrap myself up in one of my librarian shawls and eat soup. I feel like I�m about 700 years old.
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