Clubbing it

I am a sucker. I know this. If you don't know this, ask me for a favor or invite me somewhere that is important to you and see how much of a sucker I am. Now, if you are a child then there is no hope for me.

Two of my former students invited me to a concert their band was performing in. I bought a ticket under the premise that several other teachers were going. Their band is a scream metal band with a name that I don't want to repeat here because it offends me. By the day of the concert only one other teacher and I were left standing and willing to go.

Jeri and I carpooled to the club (my first trip to a club ever...I might have been in one in Europe...) and had a great time talking along the way. We neared the club and certainly felt in the rock element. Picture Tijuana, then add several car repair shops with tires lining the front of the spray painted signs. Now between an "adult" shop and a skate board shop in a brick building with smokers puffing away out front is an under-18 club. This was our destination.

"We don't stick out at all," Jeri whispered as we neared the door. I had to turn off the urge to direct and advise every kid we saw. The room for the concert was a fair size and the stage was just being set up for our kids. Several students were in the audience and some were embarrassed to have us there, but most were excited that we would come.

"Why don't they have any chairs?" Jeri asked.

"For the mosh pit," I replied. I don't know if she heard me or understood, but she soon would.

I passed out the earplugs and our kids started playing. They actually were not that bad. I was most impressed with their ability to play and simultaneously head-bang. They had some really good guitar riffs and the bass player kept a good rhythm. Their drummer certainly had talent. I could not make any sense of their "singer". I feel like I have a generous appreciation of music. I can appreciate music that I don't enjoy and see the difficulties in things that I wouldn't really want to listen to. I don't get the screaming.

I could only distinguish a few words in every song and it was mostly one that begins with 'f'. For the most part it reminded me of Wakko Warner from Animaniacs. Animaniacs was a great cartoon on the WB that had two Warner bros. and their sister, Dot. Wakko would often do weird things including burping classical pieces. He would belch out instrumental songs while wearing a tux and taking a break to drink carbonated soda. This is EXACTLY what it sounded like.

There were moments where I would look around and my heart would break at the choices some kids were making. I seriously considered counseling two girls in short jean shorts, torn t-shirts worn off one shoulder and 4 inch heels. My heart broke for them, "There's more to life and love than what you think!" I wanted to scream.

I held it all in and made it through the set with my poor hearing well preserved. The boys were so excited that their teachers made the effort to show their support and it was neat to see them put so much effort into something positive.

As I was introduced to the band, the drummer said the f-word and my student looked at me. I didn't reprimand, because he wasn't mine. But then my student said, "That's right we're not in school, I can saw whatever the 'f' I want." I gave him my teacher look and said, "Do you think that means anything?" He didn't swear again at me.

The boys were so happy and I was glad to see them in their element. I know it was certainly their element and not mine, but then again, maybe I've always been the awkward adult among a crowd of kids...

More strange things about me and Julie

I love spy stuff. I love spy movies and tv shows and the spy museum in D.C. If it didn't involve lying and guns, I'd totally be spy. So it makes sense that I would love the show, Chuck. I didn't start watching until the second season was started, so I had to netflix the first season and get caught up. Julie and I both just loved it. The hilarious comedic timing, the nerdiness of many of the characters, and the good natured attitudes of the 'good guys' really made me excited to watch it.

Julie bought the first season on DVD so that we could watch it again and as we were finishing up an episode I had an epiphany, "Julie, we are Chuck and Morgan!" "No!" She replied. "Think about it, we're best friends who know everything about each other. We are total nerds like they are, but in a Jane Austen kind of way" [although we do like out share of Sci-Fi and we laugh at all of the nerd references...] "Seriously, we can quote every line from every Jane Austen film and from most classic musicals and if you had a fake spy boyfriend, he would come to our Halloween party dressed as Mr. Darcy and we would both drool over him."

She laughed and then we had to make the difficult decision, who was Chuck and who was Morgan? Neither of us really want to be Morgan. Julie has imdb in her head. She can recall any movie someone has been in just by seeing their name in the credits. It's like have a flash from the intersect. I have a ridiculously busy schedule that sometimes makes my friends and relatives frustrated because I am not always available when needed, just like Chuck. Neither of us was betrayed by our college roommate (we were each other's roommate). We couldn't decide so we are calling ourselves Muck and Chorgan. It just seemed fair.

Also on the strange roommate front, Julie and I went kayaking this last week. It didn't end in death or dismemberment, but it was pretty close. We borrowed Uncle Dal's kayaks and went from the Balboa bay to the bouey at the mouth of the bay. This is our usual route and it was a perfect day for it. The sun was shining and the water wasn't crowded at all.

As we neared the mouth of the bay and started entering the ocean, the wind picked up and the waves started white capping. "Is it a little rough out here?" Julie asked.

"No, we'll be fine. It's not that bad," I replied in my snobbish confidence I have whenever I talk about the ocean.

"So I'm not going to capsize?"

"No, just keep your boat perpendicular to the waves and you'll be fine."

A wave came and splashed over Julie, covering her with water. We both laughed over it and hoped that she would dry by the time we got back. We turned toward the bouey, angling our boats a little awkwardly. Julie turned to say something to me and suddenly she was flipped around, upside down.

I hate to admit that my first thought was, Can she breathe? but then I instantly thought, I don't want to jump in and get wet!

Julie swam to my kayak and I paddled her back to hers. I flipped it over and rescued her sweater. I then wedged Julie in between my kayak and hers. She pushed on the inner sides of my kayak and hers while I balanced it out by pressing on the outer edges of each. She pulled herself in and miraculously we were successful on our first try without so much as a splash. I was able to rescue one of her flip flops and we paddled back slowly to the bay.

I was impressed with our ability to remain calm and to get back in the boat. God certainly was helping us because I had no idea what I was doing. We had a pathetic walk of shame back to the beach house barefoot and dripping wet, Julie more so than I. We also had some good laughs about how lightly we took the warnings of others that morning about being careful and getting wet.

Later Uncle Dal commented on how the wind looked pretty strong and he wasn't sure if he would have gone out to the ocean in such conditions. Despite the harrowing experience, it was actually a lovely day. I was reminded of my constant admonition from my father every time we surfed together, "Be afraid of the ocean." It may be beautiful and a wonderful and relaxing place to play, but you should never lose your fear of its power and strength.

I'll let you know when Muck and Chorgan strike again.