beer. punk rock. good people. nostalgia.

A faded 'PAID' stamp on my hand; a rockin' headache of epic proportions; a faint memory of screaming "JOHN MELOCHE IS SEXY!"

All indications of a great night. It seems like a lifetime ago that this kind of thing was a nightly occurrence for me. I'd almost forgotten what the allure of that scene was. Last night sent a rush of memory from my toes right up the very tip of my skull (making a special stop at my now damaged eardrums---thanks guys.) A hundred different faces, familiar and new. The same idea applied to the music. A lively crowd, complete with a moshpit, crowd surfers, and special appearances by the bands' front men. The devoted fans shouting along with the singers, reinforcing the social, political, and moral significance of the lyrics.

All of these elements made for one resounding and undying theme: unity. The sense of singularity and harmony was overwhelming, pasting a smile permanently across my face. Mavericks was the center of the universe last night.



Or maybe--six beer and three shots later--it was just a sauce-induced euphoria.

Either way, I was reminded of why I was so in love with this scene so long ago. There is a part of my heart, I think, that has always been reserved for all things studded, drunk, and grungy. And that piece was brought to the front and center last night.

I would thank everyone myself for an awesome time. But someone already said it best last night, and to try to top it would be an act of utter futility:



"Cheers to beers and queers." - Kyle Loverin