November 22, 2009

Commodore

This is my second time and probably his one hundredth. It makes me feel almost guilty. I wasn't legal before I insist, but this is the Commodore, an institution, he just rolls his eyes. We check our coats and he knowingly walks to the best spot in the room. I'm not convinced. Scanning the crowd he scoffs at the Star Wars t-shirt clinging to the skinny hipster beside us. "I had that t-shirt thirty years ago and threw it out...I bet he bought mine for $50." Everything old is cool again? I'm sure he's noticed. The opener plays and the sound is amazing. His 'spot' lends to the best acoustics. As the main act starts I comment on the volume, have i not been to a show in this long. "You think this is loud? Ha, I've seen the Ramones live here four times, now that's loud." I know nothing, my Dad wins.

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