ELDERLY: THE CONVALESCENT HOME IS NEUTRAL TERRITORY*

Yo I got jumped on Sunday. So bad in fact that I have bruises on both knees (New Hampshire), and my right elbow, and a twisted ankles laced with bruises. Did neo-nazis jump you, you ask? Nope. Young hoodlums? Not at all. A pack of wild dogs? Nah. I actually paid for this experience, and let me tell you it was worth every penny of those 15 smakroos. On Sunday me and my friend Ben went to relive our youth by going to see Lifetime at the Bowery Ballroom. Lifetime was a 90s melodic hardcore band, they had recently reunited. I go there early so I walked around little Italy, where everyone was wilding over Italy victory. Some dude carrying the red, white and green flag came up to me and was like "good game." I think he thought I was French; I've never been so insulted in my life. So I head butted him and the headed to the show.
But first me and Ben got our pre-drink on a little before the show: downed a couple Dewar's at that terrible bar sweet and vicious just to get in that hardcore mood. I get there and some burly fuck with a spider web tat on his elbow gives me an ice grill, ah the memories. Everyone wearing their obscure hardcore t-shirts to make sure everyone else knew they were a new jack. So we watch a couple of songs by that terrible band The Bronx (they're from LA), whose name offended me before I heard them and their music offend me more so. How you gonna name your band the Bronx, what does that mean, whatever it means it obviously some snide fuckin comment about the Bronx, and don't play generic hardcore while dressed as hipsters, it just isn’t crisp. But whatever we drank a couple brewskys and moved up front. While we were waiting we debated what the first song was gonna be, I said "yeah, there no way kids are gonna dance, look at how old these motherfuckers are" (i.e. my age). So the band gets on stage to loud applause, and from the first note the place explodes and I watch my first go tumbling to the side, as I watch this I catch the sick elbow to the ribs. After a few minutes of debating whether it was really sad for a 26-year-old man to slam dance, I looked down and my arms and legs were swinging. Soon after I fell down, and like good hardcore show goers some dudes picked me up. Problem was they picked me up so good that I feel back down face first immediately, causing me to bruise my palm and knees. I think this is the first palm bruise I have ever had. So the nite progressed: fingers were pointed, ankles were twisted, lyrics were sung, sweat was produced (NH). So to sum up I was 16 for the nite, the next day I was 26 and in a weird amount of pain. But it made me realize I need to be in a circle pit at once a weekend for the rest of my life. So soon enough I am going to quit my job, get sleeved out, re-learn bass (let's be honest I never really knew it), and start this hardcore band ... I still need a name I'm thinking ...Middle-Aged Insurgency. So when you're 45 and your 17 year old son goes to the local basement hardcore show in your middle class suburb, you can tell him (or her, but probably him) that you know the bass player of the band he's going to see, and it will be an opportunity to connect to your alienated teenage son. No need to thank me for helping to strengthen your bond with your kid. Robbie loves the kids.

*ED's note: There is a lifetime song called THE GYM IS NEUTRAL TERRITORY on thier record Hello Bastards