Camaraderie.

Last night I went to see Me First and the Gimme Gimmes at Thee Parkside here in SF. For you folks who don't know, that means I saw a big band in a small club. That also means that for the first time in a while I got to enjoy the thrill of a mosh pit. It's not something I do particularly often, but I enjoy it when I do. I think even more than the simple excitement of bouncing around and running into complete strangers while there is great music going on in the background. It's not even the chance to rub up against foreign women. What I really like about being in the pit is the sense of camaraderie that everyone shares. Yes, you may be ramming into other people, but as soon as someone goes down, people swarm to help them up. If someone drops something, everyone makes a perimeter so they can find what they dropped. Last night there were even bottles of water being passed around. It's some sort of unspoken code of looking out for one another while risking physical harm. Just like the description of Fight Club - you are not as alive as when you are in the pit, and the following day or two it's like the rest of your life has had the volume turned down on it. Granted, that might have something to do with the high volume of the show last night and the fact that I forgot my earplugs last night.

The other somewhat surreal moment from last night really put a smile on my face. I was down in the pit, going nuts, listening to Me First, and I looked around and realized: all the people around me and running into me who were also going nuts were a giant mass of punk fans, screaming Judy Garland lyrics to guys in Hawaiian shirts. And at that moment, it all made perfect sense.