“Let the scars tell the story. Before I die. Let the scars tell the story. ‘Cause scars never lie”

Metallica, ‘Black Squirrel’

In order to show your scars, you have to be able to have appreciation for them in some ways.

There is a sense of comfort in hiding your scars from the world; you don’t have to field assumptive questions from those who consider you ‘brave’ for just leaving the house. You don’t have to navigate a world that assumes you need assistance every second of the day- or a world in which you do, due to lack of accessibility. On another end, it is extremely difficult to leave the house many days, because of the process of having to remember everything needed, so i don’t continually have to put my prosthetic to go up and down the stairs. it’s something many take for granted, but for me, this process is a long one.

i speak primarily of physical scars here, as the result of an accident; there are layers of emotional scars i could potentially touch on as well, but that is for another time.

‘Broken Beat & Scarred’ (from 2008’s Death Magnetic), a song i love for its rhythmic illusion at the beginning, also has been a theme song of mine throughout both my physical and emotional healing journeys, post amputation. The open wounds may have all healed, but the evidence of the skin grafts on my legs and other signs of trauma on different parts of my body are still quite prominent. And of course, i am reminded every single day of what happened to me, because i live life with one leg.

The demo version of ‘Broken Beat & Scarred’, ‘Black Squirrel’, is also significant to me in its message of scars being the most reliable narrators of one’s life; it is indeed true that they “tell it best.” Even more accurate is, “Dying’s easy, it’s living that’s hard.” So much of my life has been a series of physical and emotional violence/abuse, multiple levels of rejection, depressive periods, ideation, tragic events and trauma- sometimes it is a wonder that i am still here.

i got a tattoo of the words opening the chorus of ‘Black Squirrel’- “Let the scars tell the story”. Like the lyrics of a song, sometimes scars don’t have to be explained for one to understand their messages.

April 19, 2025 was the 19th time i have seen Metallica live. While i would consider myself a baby in the show game (despite my first show being December 3, 1991), some have called me a veteran.

Why i continually go to as many Metallica shows as i physically can is for two reasons: It is the one place i get to see many of my friends in person. Being disabled in the ways that i am, i tend to be pretty isolated from regular human interaction. One of the things that has shifted in my healing journey is the concept of friendship. Obviously i had friends prior to the accident, but during that period of life i was fairly staunch in how i defined friendship. While i didn’t see it as limiting at the time; after people i considered to be friends either disappeared or totally dropped me at the time of my deepest levels of vulnerability, i began learning to let go of the attachment of how i was conditioned to idealize friendship.

Going to these shows, i actually never realized how many friends i had.

Another pivotal moment is that one of my closest friends succumbed to cancer in a hospice, right before i saw Metallica in Mexico City last year, and just as i was planning to go see her. She was the quintessential definition of how i saw a friend: talking almost daily in some capacity- whether by phone, text or voice notes- sometimes for multiple hours at a time (despite both of us dealing with our own health-related issues), intense conversations about random things, commiserating about the horrors of capitalism, crying on each others’ shoulders (even if by phone)- and now all of that was gone. It was a St. Anger moment, if you will.

Life partner jesse (who has gone to see Metallica with me six times thus far, including the show on April 19) is the closest friend i have, since Cicely’s passing. That said, i don’t want to dump all of my feelings, anxieties and trauma onto them (when they have their own life to contend with). So i had to shift any concept about what a friend means to me, as well as what it means to be a friend. In the midst of our struggles, and in the course of me learning to let go, we actually became closer.

i think about something James Hetfield said in relation to the 72 Seasons album, but i think it applies to what i am speaking of here as well: “Much of our adult experience is reenactment or reaction to these childhood experiences. Prisoners of childhood or breaking free of those bondages we carry.”

Self-reflection is an every day journey.

The second reason i continually go to Metallica shows is that they are a spiritual band for me. Seeing their shows continue to be a healing and cathartic part of my life. There are many who focus on the material (as in, whether or not the band messes up, among other things). For certain, Metallica are not gods; they are imperfect, mortal beings just like the rest of us. However, i experience their music as a vehicle to the connection of our higher selves. Their concerts are aptly felt as “A sea of hearts beat(ing) as one, unified,” as described in ‘Lux Æterna’. In many ways you have a “Kindred alliance” with old friends, and new ones you’ve made at the show as well.

This particular show was special for me, because despite jesse and i going to shows together, we are not always together, as i tend to be in general admission (GA), and he tends to be in the seats. This show was his first time on the floor with me, and this introductory moment could not have been a better example of what’s described in ‘Lux Æterna’.

i remember giving him a session on what to be prepared for when attending a Metallica show- the AC/DC and Ennio Morricone intros before the band comes on for example- but not much can prepare you for being out on the floor, no matter how assured you are in your readiness. Every single show is different.

The setlist on the surface wasn’t particularly special. It consisted of crowd favorites and reliable excitables. None of this matters to me- every single Metallica show, from the deeper cuts to ‘Sandman’, is a spiritual experience.

That said, the second segment of the show particularly meant a lot to me. Firstly, i got to share the moment of seeing one of jesse’s all-time favorite Metallica songs, ‘King Nothing’, on the floor with him. Secondly, the second part of the set also consisted of a series of songs that have been a particular part of my healing journey. ‘Lux Æterna’ always feels like a giant hug to me. ‘Screaming Suicide‘ was one of the songs that encouraged me to call the hotline, moments before deciding to end it all. ‘The Day That Never Comes’ speaks to the ‘invisible kid’ in me.

But it was Kirk Hammett and Rob Trujillo’s doodle that spoke the most to me- they usually do an original song, then a cover of a band local to the city (or state) they are playing at. Rob even announced that they were doing a deeper cut, and we should sing along if we knew it. As they were playing, the riff was quite familiar to me; and similar to when they performed ‘FIXXXER’ at the 40th anniversary show, i was a bit in shock at what i was hearing.

‘Broken, Beat & Scarred.’

As i spent much of the time in disbelief of my theme song being played as part of this doodle, Lars Ulrich (my biggest musical inspiration) walks out of one of the band’s mini break rooms, directly in front of me. i wave hello, but he does not see me- something i am pretty used to. i have learned to not be attached to such loss.

Lars, cup of water in hand, stands in the center of the open space reserved for band and crew entering and exiting the stage. He proceeds to shake the hands of audience members close by- one of those people i later learned, was jesse.

As i am doing my best to take in the fact that Rob and Kirk are performing this song, i feel a tap on my shoulder. i turn around, and Lars waves at me. i wave back. He extends his hand. We shake hands, and he puts his hand to his heart. i do the same.

i’ve been standing off and on throughout the show, and after this brief moment with Lars, my legs began to almost give out in pain, so i plop myself back down in the wheelchair. A crew member immediately hands me some sparkling water.

i do not know if Lars remembers me from our time in 2023; despite the fact that not much was said between us at all in that brief moment; the person who is my biggest musical inspiration, the person who plays drums in a band that is a massive contributor to my healing journey, in the middle of a major theme song of said journey is a lot to take in. And my legs responded in kind.

Throughout the show i also get a thumbs up from Kirk, a head nod from Rob, and a couple more silent ‘hellos’ from them both. i do not personally know any of these people, but somehow i feel supported in ways i never expected.

i was to receive another unexpected surprise, on an already full night of surprises.

Upon the conclusion of ‘Enter Sandman’ (the final song of the set), James looked directly at me and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” then threw a pick in my direction; it landed right in front of me, the barrier/rail being the literal barrier between myself and the pick. i could never be upset at what could seemingly be considered a ‘loss’, as the intent was far more important than the action in this case.

i had a similar experience in the Snake Pit (the area located in the center of the stage) at one of their shows last year in Seattle. In the middle of ‘One’ (which is my amputated leg’s favorite song in the whole world), Hetfield gives me a giant smile; after the set was over, with a ‘prayer hands’ gesture he thanks me, and throws a pick in my direction. The initial feeling of this experience was shock; i wasn’t even aware he was paying attention to me at all. There’s tens of thousands of people- people much more interesting than me to pay attention to.

Back to Syracuse: Someone who worked at the venue picked up the pick and handed it to the person next to me. He immediately turned to me and asked if i wanted the pick, and of course, i said no. The joy on his face to receive the pick thrown by Hetfield was one of the highlights of my night. It meant so much to him to receive a memento from his second Metallica show.

After the band made their post-show speeches (a part of the show i enjoy; it was my first time seeing them do this up close, versus on a screen), they exited the stage, directly where we were located. Immediately, a slew of hands reached out to receive some attention from the four (horse)men. This part of the show (regardless of band) is always overwhelming to me to experience as an amputee; also, while i understand it on an emotional level, it’s the type of over-stimulation that is difficult to internally experience.

i couldn’t imagine the over-stimulation the band feels every single night. At the same time, perhaps it is something they have an appreciation for, and/or crave.

Out of the four to exit the stage, James was the last one. Upon seeing him, i noticed the hand from the woman next to me reach out. When bands have passed any area of audience i’ve been in, i tend to be bypassed; it’s not a positive or negative thing. It just is. i’ve become accustomed of a life full of misses and ‘near misses’- including death. i’m not particularly special; there’s nothing about me where it should be assumed that i be approached by anyone, so any moments of connectivity are ones i cherish, and hold in my heart.

James Hetfield bypassed the majority of hands reaching out for a touch from him, and he approached me. He said, “Thank you for rocking out with me tonight,” and handed me his handkerchief.

Again, i didn’t consider myself to be doing anything different than i normally do; i cannot possibly be the only person rocking out at their shows. At least i hope not. When i see my favorite bands in concert, i sing and scream so loud that i end up losing my voice at times by the end. Sometimes, my body aches the next day, because i’m dancing hard. For me, it was a typical night at a Metallica show. i don’t care if i look silly doing any of it.

As i’ve mentioned numerous times (including this piece), this band’s music has had a major hand in saving my life. Their music has been a massive part of my journey in healing, not only when i was in the hospital in the type of pain i would wish on no one; but also in my mode of physical and emotional rehabilitation. i’ve also been encouraged through their music to ask for help when i was moments away from ending it all. i am grateful for their existence in my life. A Metallica concert will always be a spiritual experience for me.

i didn’t take a look at the handkerchief until an hour or so after the concert’s end. It is a beautifully made custom ‘Skull And Crossbones’ design (with the letter H for the crossbones); perhaps it is another (slight) interpretation of the always classic (and always imitated, but never duplicated) Scary Guy. It definitely captures the personality of who we publicly know as ‘Papa Het’, whose name is featured in yellow script on the opposite ends of the centered skull and crossbones image.

The handkerchief is a wonderful gift i will always appreciate; it is a relatively custom gift- that is, while there are limited versions of it made specifically for an individual, there are still other copies of it; while i am incredibly humbled to receive such a gift (as he could have given it to anyone else), the even bigger gift was the one of mutual appreciation. He didn’t have to approach me at all. He could have approached me to simply say ‘Thank you’, and it would have meant just as much, if not more. There are so many things i would have liked to have said in that moment- particularly about how his band saved my life, but ultimately, i didn’t have to.

These moments happen for only seconds; however, they are moments i can never take for granted. i do not take any moments i’ve had, whether silent or vocal, on stage or off, with band or audience members, and regardless of duration, for granted.

This may not seem like an apt comparison, but this experience is not unlike waking up to find two beautiful kittens on the bed almost every day. One of them, not yet amenable to touch, still trusts enough to be close to you. The other plops herself next to you, positioning her head to receive nose boops and massages.

A moment of connection with an artist who has inspired us is very much like a moment with a cat friend who chooses to approach us- the connection is based on consent. Many of us marvel at how adorable a cat is, but it doesn’t mean this adorable cat wants to be picked up. Just as a cat doesn’t owe me touches, an artist does not owe me their time, outside of what they give on the stage.

Another thing i thought about before i came to write this is how, despite living with two beautiful kittens who wake up next to me most days, i still have to ask myself if they are real. After losing a wonderful cat friend in 2015, i did not live with any non-human companions for almost ten years, as many apartments do not allow them. When Peabo and Watch-o! adopted us this year, a range of emotions washed over me (which persist till this day), from disbelief to relief.

i suppose i could describe my feelings about the kittens in a material way; even the reality of responsibility in making sure the box is cleaned, the food and water bowls are full, and they are safe exists- however, when i sit and look at them; when they give me blinks, or when i play with them all of that goes away.

While a human artist is (obviously) not a cat or kitten, what both of these beings do is gauge how safe or emotionally ready they are to engage with you on their terms.

Meet & Greets certainly do exist; some of them are very quick (as in, a hello and a quick photograph). There are others (such as Metallica’s) which predominately involve a question and answer period, and a quick conversation. Like the time in the Snake Pit (a position of the closest proximity to the stage), meet & greets are heavily coveted. Having been in the Snake Pit a couple of times, and participated in a meet & greet a few years ago (as well as a book signing event); i met all four members of Metallica in the course of a year- a thing i certainly don’t take for granted, as it is a pretty rare thing in this time.

That said, meet & greets in general are set up to be fairly transactional. And while i do not consider my experience of the meet & greet to be necessarily so (especially since we had a little more time to be human, and because i poured my heart out for part of it), the meeting was still set up for a specific purpose. What occurred on April 19, for me, felt a bit more relational.

The four members of Metallica may not remember meeting me in 2023 at all, and that is okay. They meet thousands of people in their lives, whether in meet & greets, at special events or at concerts; i don’t expect that i would be a standout.

There have been a few other shows at this point where Rob or Kirk would nod, or (as mentioned before) James would smile; but i’ve never, during one night, had some level of communication with all four members. Some have said to me that it’s because they’ve become familiar with me. While this is possible, i cannot say if this is the case. It would be fascinating to know that my face is familiar to them on a very basic level, but i am one out of tens of thousands of people, and they are simply responding to whomever they could see amid the bright lights on the stage.

i am also no more special than any other person band members have gone up to, at any given point in time. In fact, i am not special at all. The reason why this evening was a pivotal one is because Metallica is a major chapter of my life’s journey- a part where i am once again learning to be okay with myself, to the point where i can once again say i love myself. It is difficult, but i am working on it. The first step in that is learning to accept my scars, as part of my life’s journey.

Because scars can be some of the best teachers, if you allow them to be. If I allow them to be. This concert may not be the first time i have learned this, but one thing this experience has brought to light is that in accepting scars, you do not have to let them define you.

Let the scars tell the story…