the one woman apollo!

i’ve not spent much time at music festivals in general; besides the random annual local jazz or punk festival over the years, the last time i attended anything major was in the early 1990s, with the second and third Lollapaloozas. While those ultimately were a lot of fun- the most memorable (and beautiful) of those being in the middle of the most brutal pit i have ever been in in my entire life during Ministry’s set in 1992- festivals seemed pretty inaccessible to me, either due to the distance, or the cost, especially since there’s only one or two bands i was most interested in seeing.

i took a chance 31 years later in 2023, with going to the Download Festival: formally Monsters Of Rock, then Donington Festival. The bands i had mostly planned to see were Metallica and Bad Religion (of course), Soul Glo, Taipei Houston, Bloodywood, The HU, and a few others. While there were a few (new) bands i got to enjoy (like the Meffs and Empire State Bastard), and while there were bands i saw a bit of that i was not expecting to see (based on how the festival was set up, such as Puscifer, Lorna Shore or Bring Me The Horizon)… there were bands i really wanted to see but were not able to (GWAR, Municipal Waste, Fever 333, The Warning), because the festival was incredibly inaccessible to one degree or another. The bathrooms were not lit at all, and the landscape was either gravelly or grassy, making it difficult to navigate in a manual wheelchair; and on some levels, even in electric ones.

If it were not for a friend who saw me struggling in the middle of the field, i would have been alone and stranded for the whole festival. Prior to this moment we hadn’t yet met in person, but he knew who i was, based on my conversations with him about my being disabled and in a wheelchair. Outside of a few, most people would see me struggling to roll up a hill, or crying, and not help.

Aside from the various struggles disabled folks had experienced during that year’s festival; Download stays immersed in controversy- last year, a number of bands withdrew from the festival, in protest of its longtime primary sponsor, Barclays. Those who withdrew did so in solidarity/unity with the Palestinian masses who (as of this writing) continue to experience a genocide. While Barclays (one of several British banks which historically funded/supported the transatlantic slave trade) have denied any involvement in their investment in Elbit (the weapons manufacturer in Israel), they also say this: “We may hold shares in relation to client driven transactions, which is why we appear on the share register, but we are not investors.” While they deny direct involvement with Elbit, they do acknowledge “Our clients in this sector include US, UK and European companies which supply defence products to NATO and its allies.”

Download is not the only festival to face scrutiny: There has been a petition going around to “Stop Punk in the Park Festival in Denver (Colorado),” due to its primary promoter, Cameron Collins/Brew Ha Ha Productions, lending financial support to Donald Trump’s most recent presidential campaign. On top of this, Punk In The Park’s is also run by AEG (aka Anschutz Entertainment Group). Philip Anschutz, the person the company is named after, has a very long history of donating to and supporting right wing and conservative causes and candidates.

(This is a piece i intend to write/do a podcast episode on sooner than later: The contradiction of being an artist that holds humanistic/leftist values, in an environment where you don’t have the capital to hold events, tours or festivals which bypass right wing and/or exploitative companies is a very real thing. While being a musician is not considered a ‘real job’ in many circles; it is a fact that for many touring artists, this is their primary income, and as with many other jobs, this is how they get their material needs met. We have to consider that many of these artists also are ultimately either ‘independent contractors’ (or employees of a record label) and don’t necessarily have access to, for example, comprehensive health care. Labor exploitation is labor exploitation, no matter what package it’s being delivered in).

While i enjoyed the bands i was able to see (where of course, the bands looked like ants on the accessible platforms); i became so traumatized by my experience at Download that i swore off festivals forever.

“Are you gonna go to Punk Rock Bowling?”

A friend (who i met at a Metallica show in Seattle) texted me. My response was that i was not thinking about it as had sworn off festivals, due to being traumatized. He told me that PRB (which it will herein be alternately called) was a lot of fun, and that it would be different from Download.

i had heard of Punk Rock Bowling (obviously, given that some bands i love have performed or frequented the festival; it’s also been around for many years). While i was still skeptical (particularly since no bands were announced at this stage), i took a chance and purchased a ticket, months in advance. As the band announcements trickled in at a moderate pace- and while a few of the bands piqued interest- i was still not convinced of anything wholly fruitful resulting from my attendance, based on history.

Upon purchasing a ticket for this festival, it’s clear that one takes a gamble (no pun intended) with little to no knowledge of bands playing – and as the festival drew close, that gamble became larger, particularly amid a barrage of executive orders. While the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) sweeps were rampant in this country for years prior to the policies that currently exist- something many in various music scenes are acquainted with through activist and organizing circles (including a petition addressed to South By Southwest (SXSW) regarding their complicity); and while there’s no shortage of stories of artists being jailed, detained or deported, it doesn’t make the latest round of artists being unable to participate in the festival any easier.

“We’re fighting tooth and nail to get all the international bands on PRB into the country, despite the xenophobic hysteria at the border. Unfortunately, The Baboon Show (Sweden) and Violencia (Mexico) won’t be joining us this year,” commented festival organizers, as a result of the band attrition. Gen and the Degenerates (Liverpool, UK) were also not able to join. While replacements were found as soon as possible (The Bar Stool Preachers, Western Addiction and Bullshit Detector respectively); whether it’s visa issues or bands being detained due to political views, it’s evident that the Red Scare never departed.

i’ve got traveling down to a relative science, just as i now, almost 4.5 years after becoming an amputee, have found an effective method of going to the bathroom. While i say this, the test is whether this science can be applied effectively. Depending on the airport and seat arrangement, some flights go much smoother than others.

This also applies to wherever i am staying. A majority of the time i travel alone in a manual wheelchair, so distance from my respective destinations are crucial.

Though i travel quite a bit, i’ve never been to Las Vegas, Nevada before. i’ve never been attracted to the cacophony of bright lights, sounds and seeming opulence. Despite attending a lot of shows and being a lifelong punk kid, i value my quiet time tremendously. Preemptively feeling anxiety for this experience (again, doing it alone in a manual wheelchair), i was able to get a room at the Golden Nugget- a place which, i discovered (and was incredibly grateful for) was literally ONE BLOCK from the festival.

Upon waiting in line to get a room and a key, as if on cue in an unexpected ‘story of your life’ session, Keith Morris appears.

When i was a teenager, i had a zine i started around 1992 or so, called The Dissonant Accost– a zine i no longer have physical copies of. In 1995 (the year the Circle Jerks’ Oddities, Abnormalities & Curiosities album was released), i had the opportunity to speak to Mr. Morris for an issue. After that conversation we had further correspondence for a time after this, and we used to chat on the phone quite a bit. i felt humbled that he took the time out of his day to chat with some random punk kid over a series of months.

Given that was 30 years (and two legs) ago, i have massive doubts he would remember me. That said, as he walked toward me, we said our hellos, and he gave me a pound (aka so-called ‘fist bump’). i attempted to tell him that we knew each other from 30 years ago, but he quickly walked off, looking back at me. Despite that fleeting moment, i took it as a sign, setting the stage for a positive weekend.

When purchasing space in a hotel room as part of a festival arrangement (or something similar), as a disabled person you are also gambling that there will be accessibility. While the woman who gave me the key was kind enough to offer to set me up with another, more accessible room; she was not sure when this would happen, given that the hotel was (obviously) heavily booked. When this happens, i opt to keep the room i was originally given and make due, asking for a shower bench if necessary.

While there may have been far more luxurious rooms in other sections of the hotel; the room i received a room to was pretty fancy. The room, 439 Square Feet, was enough space for the wheelchair to navigate. There have been rooms where i was not able to turn around at all.

The bathroom is one of the first things i look at upon entering a hotel room. While a toilet occupying its in its own space (or having two sinks) is not wholly unusual; my favorite thing about this bathroom was that the tub was long enough for me to stretch out my long legs; given that i cannot stand while taking a shower, this is a blessing. As a below the knee amputee (whose knee does not really bend much at all, due to it being atrophied in the hospital), given the variation in the types of hotel bathrooms there are, i’ve had to get transferring into the wheelchair from the floor of the shower or bath (again) down to a relative science; and i think i have finally figured out how to transfer from a tub with glass sliding doors, without injuring myself from the metal base.

No matter how old i am, i will always call myself a punk kid.

It is not due to an aching desire to maintain whatever conditioned perceptions of youthfulness that exist among us; it is because of punk being my second major teacher (after Ronald Reagan – in particular, the Iran Contra hearings) that contributed to forming any burgeoning analysis i had about the system of inhumanity that was driving the society, and the country i lived in. The music i gravitated toward abhorred capitalism, encouraged individuality but rejected individualism, and always encouraged questioning the social mores we are taught to believe as truth. Through the music i found books and other media that contributed to my constant journey of study and question-asking.

So many of us are taught as children to ‘never engage with strangers’ and yet so many of us get lured in to the white/brown van of the status quo; and despite its vast foreignness, many rely on it and for example, forego humanism for xenophobia. It is punk rock that saved me from getting abducted by the tacit acceptance of ‘man’s inhumanity to man‘, and to always act and speak out against it.

i will always be indebted to punk rock, warts and all.

And while ‘punk’ (as a music genre and as creative and cultural force) has gone through many iterations, controversies, contradictions and journeys; what it has always meant to me as a student of life will always be present, as long as capitalism (and all its appendages of imperialism, colonialism, state violence, patriarchy (and everything under that), labor exploitation and so much more) continue to exist.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Given the cooptation and corporatization of various counterculture movements; despite everything i said earlier, there’s a certain skepticism i had, knowing i’d be entering a punk festival. There’s a chance that walking into a ‘punk’ festival would be akin to walking into a ‘pride’ festival, which has ultimately expunged the roots of the movement, comprising of people in queer and trans communities actively battling state/police repression and violence.

Amid the increasing erosion of third spaces- those places people frequent when not in their houses, at school or at their jobs- within the past few years, i am (personally) noticing an increase in festivals. The shutdown of venues and other institutions as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic have a clear correlation with the loss of these spaces; the cost (both logistically and financially) to maintain many spaces became unattainable. With this reality, people are seemingly willing to travel (sometimes quite far) and pay money (sometimes a lot) to go see music, and to make connections. There may also be a willingness to eschew any trepidation regarding the cooptation/corporatization that exists with events.

Moments after entering the venue, i approached the merchandise queue. Among a crowd, i ended up finding the friend who recommended i get a ticket in the first place. As i got to the front i was faced with a poster bearing the words: TWENTY FIVE YEARS OF PUNK ROCK BOWLING: ALWAYS HAS BEEN DIY– ALWAYS WILL BE! FIGHT TO UNITE- SMASH FASCISM- CREATE- RESIST”

As per my desire for artists and events to be more decisive in their positions regarding sociopolitical matters, i immediately smiled. The more common sentiment is one of, ‘It doesn’t matter who you are, we are all here to unify in the name of music.’ Such vagueness leaves an event open to elements of patriarchy/misogyny, ableism, racism and (of course) fascism among band and audience members.

That said, while i had joy in seeing a poster espouse an antifascist sentiment, i also understand that this does not mean the actions align with the sentiments. A great examination of the festival itself exists, in its contradiction of it being located directly in the center of the visuals of opulence. Among the bright lights and encouraged/implied glut- and among a barrage of (mostly European) tattooed and patched-up visitors lie a community of (mostly African) individuals, struggling with addiction and houselessness.

As a matter of fact, throughout the times i was alone outside in the wheelchair i was assumed to be a houseless person asking for drug money by a hotel worker before i could ask directions to (outside another wing of the hotel i was staying at); i also had a couple of houseless folks in passing, ask if i had any drugs. One of my favorite moments of the weekend was meeting a man who helped me towards my destination for a couple of blocks. While he currently lived in Vegas, he grew up in Washington, D.C.; and we spent those couple of blocks talking about the old 9:30 Club (on F and 9th Street), and many of the hardcore/punk bands that were around. When i got to my destination, he asked if i knew anyone who had a cigarette.

If your ‘antifascism’ focuses on specificities (and has no intersectional or class analysis), then it’s important to ask why. While it’s impossible to resolve sociopolitical injustices in a particular location in one weekend; if your respective festival doesn’t address them at all, then you musk ask yourself why.

The first band i heard playing when i entered the festival was the Lambrini Girls, from Brighton (UK). They were definitely one of the bands i looked forward to seeing; however, while i didn’t see them, i heard them quite clearly. This was when the realization hit that the festival was much smaller than i expected.

“We wanna see a pit!”, one of the LG members shouted. Next, i heard something to the effect of, “Pretend one side of the crowd are cops! Then the other side, pretend those people are cops!” This made me chuckle, now knowing this is the energy i was walking into. Dave (the person who convinced me to get a ticket) then proceeded to inform me of the layout of the festival.

PRB’s primary event consists of two stages: a main stage and a street stage. No bands overlap. When someone is playing on one stage, the alternate stage is being set up for the next band. The schedule ran fairly smoothly without significant laps or pauses. Like most things in life, the setup is not ideal for someone like me, traveling on their own in a manual wheelchair, since you must continually travel back and forth between each stage, if you want to see every band. However, while the majority of the crowd did move back and forth, i stayed behind in between sets, still able to clearly hear the bands less than a mile away on the other stage, and see them on a screen. Due to staying behind, i was able to be at rail for some of the bands.

The accessible area at PRB was the ONLY time i have been to a show of that size, where i was able to see a band without them being absolutely tiny like ants, or totally obscured by objects or people. Despite this, the accessible area still feels separate from everyone and everything else. i tend to choose being at rail (aka the front of the crowd and the bands; a barrier usually separating the two) because it’s the best way for me to see a show. i was also able to roll to the front and not fight for space.

Not only were people giving me space to be up front, they were looking out for me. While there were multiple mosh pits and crowd surfer all throughout the festival; it was OG Oi!/Punks Cock Sparrer (from the east End of London, UK) where i got pretty beat up, 30 seconds in. They were one of the most anticipated bands of PRB. At one point, a surfer fell straight on my back. It was the second time since being an amputee (the first being Show me The Body at the Knockdown Center in 2024) where i was at a show that intense.

While i regret nothing about being at rail for Show Me The Body, it was definitely an ‘every person for themselves’ environment. During Cock Sparer, though i did get pretty beat up, i had primary people checking on me throughout the whole set, as well as an outer ring of folks.

The festival in general was filled with many supportive people. While on the outside (for the most part) i traveled alone; within the festival grounds, i always had someone assisting me. If someone saw me struggling, trying to push myself along the AstroTurf, they’d offer to help.

On the main stage, brief videos were played shortly before the bands came on, ultimately sending a message that Punk Rock Bowling is not solely about the bands. The bulk of the ire was toward the current U.S. administration and the policies put forth by it; however, there were other clips alluding that the discussion should be beyond the myopic scope of ‘Republicans bad.’ While he was speaking largely of the current administration and its associates, a skit was played of Bill Burr discussing the ineffectiveness of liberals, in their response to said administration/associates. Most interesting of all was a video played of El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X) on May 25, African Liberation Day. Prior to attending PRB that day, i attended/participated in an African Liberation Day program. There was an African man working the event, and seeing Malcolm X on the screen got him amped. We both pled our excitement, and i wished him a happy ALD; the African returned the wishes.

To this day i wonder if the Stern brothers (or any other organizers who coordinated the video interludes) knew about ALD.

While the addition of videos was a pleasant surprise (giving the festival a slight ‘edutainment’ energy); one of the things that would have given the festival a bit more of a cogent energy is if there were actual calls to action and organization. Given that it’s a bunch of punks, i can guarantee that more than a few are already doing organizing and/or liberatory work in some capacity. Still, giving people something to connect to and work toward (instead of simply being upset at the state of the world) would have been far more effective in honing the point regarding the festival’s mission of uniting, resisting, and smashing fascism.

That said, PRB was not organization-free. There were two in particular that were heavily represented. Punk Rock Saves Lives has a significant focus on bone marrow donations, mental health assistance and harm reduction/overdose reversals. At their tent was a display of supplies, from tampons to earplugs. The mission of Punk Rock Food Drive is “to provide a low-cost, All Ages experience to entertain families and friends while providing an opportunity to give back to the community.” At their tent was custom made art, skateboards, hats and many other items to raise money for local food banks, which they also encourage others to do, in their own respective areas.

One could only hope that the mission of “smash(ing) fascism” is not a statement to a mere empty cause, where no one could define what that means, thereby giving way to a dying scene… or a scene that is more than vulnerable to fascist entities.

Laura Jane Grace (during the Mississippi Medicals’ set) said this was her favorite festival to be at.

Started by Mark and Shawn Stern (from Youth Brigade- the California band, not the short-lived D.C. band- and BYO Records) in 1999; long before the more well-known incarnation birthed in 2010, it was a bowling league of punk rockers, with some smaller shows. While not perfect (as nothing and no one is), there were a few things that sealed this for me. Despite being significantly smaller in scale, PRB is still relatively large, in terms of notoriety. Most (if not all) of the bands are beloved and/or popular in their respective bases. Some of the bands may have started out at a Gilman St. or ABC NO RIO, but this festival contains bands that have moved far beyond the capacity of those places.

One similarity between PRB and many other festivals is that it depends on ‘old reliables’: many of the bands have been on either the festival bills or club shows numerous times- whether it is Youth Brigade themselves, Cock Sparrer, Frank Turner, Riverboat Gamblers, Hot Water Music, The Damned, or others. Taking a cursory look at older lineups, it does appear that there is a more concerted effort in recent times to highlight more women, queer and trans artists, which would certainly be along the lines of espousing the values exclaimed on the poster (and accompanying 25th anniversary photo book).

Punk, for all its beauty, still does have a long way to go.

And while the journey has been long, the horizon is a bit closer than before.

Attending my first PRB is a bit bittersweet, because i became reacquainted with the people and things that have shaped and inspired me. The first vinyl i ever purchased (at 15) with my own money was Black Flag’s Jealous Again EP. To see songs from this EP performed by members of this band (as FLAG) for thew first time brought me back to being that eager 15- year old. To see Keith Morris- a person i had the experience of (briefly) personally knowing on some level many years ago, a person who fronts a band (Circle Jerks) whose records i also purchased as a teenager, and a fellow survivor- sing these songs was energizing, as i screamed all of the songs and pumped my fist along with Mike, a man i met just as the set started.

The day before, my heart felt incredibly full while watching one of the bands that greatly contributed to the building of my political analysis as a teenager- Gang Of Four. Not only have they inspired any ideological development; they also were important to me musically, as they all had a hand how i wanted to play music- in particular, the rhythm section of Hugo Burnham (drums- in particular) and Dave Allen (bass). Both Andy Gill (guitar) and Allen have passed on, but Ted Leo and Gail Greenwood (who blew me a kiss at the end of the set) have 80 years of playing between the both of them, and can hold their own.

As they’ve been in the process of winding down with their ‘Long Goodbye’ tour, it was fitting they ended their PRB set with ‘Damaged Goods,’ as it was notably their debut single (in 1978).

Of course, it would not make sense to be shaped by such a beautiful thing as punk, and not engage with that in real time, and in the real world.

As an organizer i spend a lot of time in ideological struggles. Many of us punk kids came up struggling with family members, community members and peers regarding the music we listened to, the clothes we wore, and other cultural facets. It’s important we recognize these struggles on an ideological and sociopolitical level as well.

Many see struggling as wholly negative (just as many see the concept of ‘criticism’ as such); however, the role of both an ideological struggle and a criticism/self-criticism process is that they’re there to contribute to growth. The first line of struggle (outside of our comrades) is our friends, family members and other loved ones. If we don’t practice struggle with those folks, how can we move through the world, and around people we don’t know? Nothing is going to change if we only engage with like minded people.

One of the more interesting moments of the weekend was in a rare occasion of me getting a ride. Everything was relatively close (with few exceptions), which is quite rare when i travel.

The audio of the device the driver was using for directions spat out some terrible AI Spanish, and i laughed as a result. The man commented, “I am teaching her Spanish.”

i say something in Spanish as well (because that is most likely the language they feel most comfortable in), and as with many drivers, he was surprised. He asked where i was from; he revealed he was from Cuba. i lit up, and he commented that he ‘escaped’.

My ears perked up. i was in the car with a ‘gusano’, a not so positive term used for individuals who left Cuba following the revolution; this term generally applies to Cubans who largely uphold or support pro-capitalist and anti-Castro idea(l)s (some still thinking he runs Cuba, despite him NOT BEING ALIVE, and not being in office since 2008).

i mentioned to him that i had been to Cuba. He asked if i enjoyed it, and i responded that i loved it. i asked him why he left, and it wasn’t because he was facing political persecution. It was essentially because he was not able to have nice things in Cuba. He mentioned how he had a nice car now, and he was not able to have something like it in Cuba. He said that the government had nice things like food and cars, and the majority of people did not have those things.

While his focus was on having access to particular material items (like cars), i mentioned Cuba’s Family Code, where marginalized people are, via their constitution, considered full humans; versus what happens in this country, where people are fighting just to go to the bathroom and have comprehensive health care.

Having (again) been to Cuba, talking to people on the ground about their situation; every single person was quite clear about why the material conditions are the way they are- THE U.S. LED BLOCKADE. i reiterated this to him. “You are aware that there is a U.S.-imposed blockade on Cuba, right?”

“Really?”

I had to pause for a fraction of a second, that a man born in Cuba was potentially not aware that the place he was born was experiencing a full on blockade, forced by the hands of the country he is praising. As he continued to push back on ‘not having nice things’ in Cuba, i continued to reiterate the point about the blockade. “You can go directly to this government’s websites to see what this blockade is. You don’t have to believe me.” It was like this for the whole ride, which was probably about 15 minutes.

Though it was an ideological struggle, it certainly wasn’t a volatile one. Towards the end of the ride he said, “I like being here, because I get to meet people like you.” And before we said our good nights, he said he would rather be in the U.S. With a chuckle, i responded, “And i would rather be in Cuba.”

i do what i do, not because i’m trying to win an argument. i do it because humanity is at stake, and though we aren’t going to be here forever, we should want to leave this world better than how we came into it, for future generations.

Punk was definitely one of the first things that taught me this.

i am appreciative that someone has come this far in reading this piece; i also realize that it may seem strange to some that there’s not a concentrated focus on the bands, as it is primarily a music festival. So much that connects me to punk has been so far beyond the music, and the festival has resonated with that side of my journey. i’ve met too many wonderful people to think that it is ‘just about the music’- including Jonas Woolverton, the director of the John Ross Bowie-penned dramatized play on Phil Spector’s time with the Ramones, Four Chords And A Gun.

While not a ‘theater kid’, i always had a keen interest in it. i had the opportunity to participate in a DIY theater group when i lived in Bellingham, Washington, from 2000-2004- certainly not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things (especially as someone who is more of a poetry and essay/blog writer); however, i both wrote and acted in plays throughout that time. i miss it greatly, so when i see other folks out here directing some black box productions, i have no problems supporting when i can.

Four Chords And A Gun was wonderfully directed. To be able to capture the nuances of every character, whether background or foreground in a way that gives them equal weight, is not easy to do. A character may be standing in a corner or sitting on a couch- both saying nothing for five minutes, and you are just as invested in, and enthralled/affected by them. The driving force is the music, but everything ultimately really is about human relationships. Whether bad, good or in between, it takes beings in relationships to create art.

It also takes relationships to keep an environment or scene sustainable and/or welcome.

Going back to what i wrote earlier (if that is something you remember); there are plenty of shows i have gone to, where the organizers and/or bands opt for an idealized ‘unity in the name of music’ position. i certainly am not the only one, but i have experienced a range of microaggressions and macroagressions at shows- anything from ‘You don’t seem like the type of person who would be here’, to ‘You don’t belong here,’ to physical incidents, and more. If a band or event doesn’t have a vocally explicit ‘zero tolerance’ message, you are more likely to see microaggressions present themselves. You will also likely have, for example, pro-fascist elements among the ranks at particular shows. It’s one of the reasons i’ve never desired to go to, for example, a Slayer show.

During FLAG’s set (while i was screaming ‘Jealous Again’ with Mike), that ‘zero tolerance’ policy was put to the test.

A man wearing a red ‘Dago (shorthand/slang for San Diego- not the ethnic slur in this case) Choppers‘ shirt attended PRB- a man i actually saw (by the way), and was not able to make out the shirt from the front, as i rolled in toward the direction of the stage. As FLAG were playing, he was surrounded by a group of punks, moving him towards the exit of the festival. In the midst of this move, the man was punched and knocked down. Security proceeded to separate him from the crowd, and he was escorted outside.

A solid majority who were there as it was happening cheered on the expelling of this individual. Unsurprisingly, there were many not in attendance (but in the punk scene) who showed support. There have also been an increasing number of people who don’t normally give punk the time of day, who agreed with the actions of those who participated in this de facto ‘zero tolerance’ policy.

There are those who claimed the man was ‘simply wearing a shirt, and there was no need to kick him out or ‘commit violence’ towards him. The actions of the crowd were one hundred percent preemptive. “Get out of our fuckin’ scene!” is not just a cry based on drunk sincerity; it is a reality that must be enforced, to keep the scene safe. Fascist symbology is not to be played with or worn in a cavalier way, regardless of intent, at a punk festival in which the premise is, again, zero tolerance for fascism. As the famous Karl Popper writing goes:

“Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them. — In this formulation, I do not imply, for instance, that we should always suppress the utterance of intolerant philosophies; as long as we can counter them by rational argument and keep them in check by public opinion, suppression would certainly be unwise. But we should claim the right to suppress them if necessary even by force; for it may easily turn out that they are not prepared to meet us on the level of rational argument, but begin by denouncing all argument; they may forbid their followers to listen to rational argument, because it is deceptive, and teach them to answer arguments by the use of their fists or pistols. We should therefore claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant.”

To grasp the fuller context of why this man was expelled from PRB, we must ask why anyone would willingly walk into a PUNK festival with a shirt clearly referencing the Schutzstaffel, the paramilitary wing of the nazis. We are far past a time where most of the OG punk kids were wearing armbands or t-shirts for shock value- and even then, those who did so eventually matured, apologized or atoned. i refuse to believe that anyone wearing fascist insignias at this point don’t align with it in some capacity. Even if you were attempting to be trollish and incendiary, what would make you think there would be no repercussions faced, from a crowd who overwhelmingly aligns with, for example, Palestinian liberation- or at the very least, NO NAZIS AT A PUNK FESTIVAL?

Wearing fascist/nazi symbols/insignias in order to be rebellious or ‘counterculture’ is anything but, since fascism is literally the status quo.

In regard to the shirt, the Dago Choppers (DC for short- based in Ocean Beach, San Diego (California)) was a motorcycle club that, while not a direct chapter of the Hell’s Angels, had close associations with them. While some who participated in ‘outlaw biker’ culture originally did claim to (like some of the OG punk kids) appropriate nazi symbols largely for shock value directly after many members of motorcycle clubs (MCs) returned from combat in WWII; as with many things, there were those who aligned with the symbols, and ‘re-appropriated’ them- thus propagating the influx of fascists, white supremacists and nazi sympathizers that exist to this very day.

While the DC shop burned down in the late 1990s, you are still able to purchase their shirts online. i cannot say if the person at PRB was a member of the DC (or simply purchased the shirt); to say DC or the Hell’s Angels are simply clubs who don’t mean harm would be both ahistorical and currently inaccurate, particularly since just last year, you had a gang of seventeen members of a chapter of Hell’s Angels (in San Diego) face indictment on criminal and hate crime charges, for targeting, beating and stabbing three young African men, from the ages of 19-21.

THIS is why the man was expelled. Whether or not he is a nazi (or sympathizer) is not the primary point. If one man in a shirt with a symbol/runes associated with the Schutzstaffel is simply tolerated (regardless if he’s ‘innocuously’ wearing it or not), more will come. And while it is obvious we can never know what is going to happen outside of the venue (and we must hope for the best while staying hyper-aware), it should be ensured that every single person is going to be protected from any potential violence inside the venue.

And while the song originally was a commentary for folks who claimed to be ‘counterculture’ or ‘punk’ enacting and enabling the same behaviors as the ‘authority’ they claim to be against, whether they be police, CEOs, bouncers at venues or school administrators; the great Dead Kennedys anthem will never be incorrect.

While the weekend in many ways was indeed a return to what attracted me to punk; in an unexpected turn of events, another This Is Your Life moment occurred.

On the way to The Usual Place is where i met the man who reminisced about the early D.C. hardcore bands, and inside of the Usual Place is where i would reunite with someone i have not seen in 25 or 30 years.

Originally based in Columbus, The New Bomb Turks were a band i constantly would go see. Eventually i’d come to know singer Eric Davidson, and we’d hang out every time the band would come to town. i eventually moved to the west coast in the year 2000, and stopped going to shows as frequently as i was.

When i saw Eric (who, along with his band were headlining the Usual Place show) i rolled up to him and said, “i know you might not remember me, it’s been 30 years (and two legs) since we last saw each other…” He responds, “I was looking at you, and i knew you looked familiar to me.” We both hugged and briefly talked about a couple of things that have happened in our lives over the years.

It has been a long time since i’ve seen them live, and their set was just as fun as i remembered. Always with an energy reminiscent of bands such as the Stooges, The New Bomb Turks are incendiary in the ‘right’ ways- and they don’t have to wear particular symbols to signify ‘rebellion’.

As tiring as life has been, it was comforting to be in a (mostly) supportive environment such as Punk Rock Bowling. Ultimately, the experience gave me a lot to process, in terms of how to move forward as a person who makes music, as a person who writes, and as a person who organizes.

And how to move forward as a ‘punk kid’.

One of the last things that happened before leaving Las Vegas was that i met Laura Jane Grace, as we were both waiting for our rides outside of the hotel. It was, of course, a very human moment. i mentioned to her that i had a couple of podcasts, and if she was interested in being on, i’d love to have her.

i am not a person who looks at artists to be on a hierarchy of importance, and i am one to always invite a range of people to talk about their life’s journeys, regardless of level of notoriety. i don’t obtain any level of fame or notoriety myself, so it would not make sense for me to ignore the countless people in the world who have fascinating lives. That said, i do consider her story to be quite inspiring.

She was gracious enough to give me information to reach out to her- and as i was planning to send her this blog piece (in addition to any other information regarding the podcasts), a technical mishap occurred, and i lost everything.

i do not know if we will ever meet again. i will say: If anyone does happen to see her, please tell her ‘thank you’ for me. Also if you’d like, you can send her this writing.

Immediately after leaving Vegas, i flew to Washington D.C. to not only see Metallica (who were playing at Northwest Stadium in Landover, Maryland), but to volunteer at the local food bank. It is absolutely one of my favorite things to do, when traveling.

Due to the part of the building where everyone else was (unfortunately) not being accessible, i stayed out front and did some work there. While working, i sat and hung out with Anthony, one of the workers; chatting and listening to Earth Wind & Fire (my favorite band in the whole entire world), Metallica, Prince and Polyphia.

While the majority of this narrative is about my journey at Punk Rock Bowling, i have chosen to end this piece with Metallica, because a particular unexpected moment happened at this show.

As i’ve said many times on this site; despite being an angry punk kid, i enjoyed a wide range of artists, and Metallica was one of my favorite bands coming up. With age (and more than a bit of life experience), the meaning of this band has shifted for me tremendously, particularly after a dear-fatal accident.

In between the accident (which happened in 2021) and now, i have had a range of mental health struggles, an few where i ended up calling a hotline. A particular song, ‘Just A Bullet Away‘, was one of the songs which encouraged me to call the hotline.

On the 28th of May, Rob Trujillo and Kirk Hammett joined together to perform the little doodle they do in the middle of the band’s set. On this particular evening they decided to jam to… ‘Just A Bullet Away’- one of the songs that saved my life. There with my friend Bloo, i became almost frozen in shock; i then began to sob uncontrollably in her arms.

To round out this experience, they played ‘One’, which is another song which saved my life, lying alone in a hospital room, experiencing the amount of pain i wish on no one. It is also my (amputated) leg’s favorite song.

Every day we wake up, there’s always opportunity for new adventures, even if it is the smallest (or seemingly insignificant) one. There are other times where life takes us to places where we are moved to reflect, reconnect and reminisce. And while some of this is directly connected to music, in so many ways it is about something far beyond the music.