Jack Boot Riot at the Cameo
Oct. 12th, 2004 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonBig Jodie was down.So was Dirty Mike & Skinhead Dave. Which meant Dumpster Dave and Andy Christ were in it as well. Hell even Aaron the Hair-Farmer was curling his fist around a bottle of beer he was obviously too young to have. I stood my ground with them quietly- I was more scared of looking scared in front of my friends than I was of the closing mob that was circling around us. I didn't dare suggest that we pile into Jodies big blue piece of shit Honda and book to friendlier climes. I did't mention my idea of having one of us (read:ME) run for back up inside the show and even up the odds. Nope, i'm a lot stupider then, and my pride is the only thing I got. So I stand there counting their bald heads that each reflect the parking lot lights. I stop at 20. That's when the fear hits my guts in a wave of nausea. It occurs to me how this all started - it was the color of our shoe laces.
This was the summer of '89 and summer in Miami is like living in the tropics. Maybe that was it. The heat and humidity had settled into our tempers, making us all a little less ... well... diplomatic lets say. We were at the 7 seconds show over at the Cameo Theater. I could take them or leave them, but 90% of why people went to shows wasn't for the music - it was what the music did to us, the way it got into our blood and let us tap into something deeper than memory, deeper than identity, the music reminded us of one simple truth: That we were still animals. Animals caged by language & habit.
I was in the pit taking my shots and landing a few of my own. Some little shit of a skin comes out of the blue and lands an elbow into the side of my temple. I staggered and recovered, nothing I couldn't handle. Next song I was back in for the kill. I kept waiting for an opening, watching him bob and weave through the crowd with that asshole smirk planted wide on his face. NOW!I burst out of the crowd flailing my limbs like a spastic windmill- crashing into him with all my weight- we tangle into each other and I land a glancing blow that bursts his lip open, as I get pulled up off him I step hard down on his leg, causing him to yelp loudly over the music and disappear back into the safety of the crowd.
Or so I thought.
I was in the upstairs bathroom drinking water out of the sink trying to catch my breath back.
BAM!
The bathroom door explodes with a kick open.
"That him?"
"Yeah. That's him. Look, look he's a SHARP mannnn.."
I turn around and see two lean, vicious pieces of shit eye ball fucking me like I was the new guy on the cellblock.
"Ummm what's up guys?" I ask lamely.
"You. You the piece of shit that jumped my boy?"
I turn around and turn off the faucets to the sink. I catch a quick reflection of myself in the bathroom mirror covered with tags and stickers. I ask myself "Why?" and turn to them.
"You got a fucking problem with us." the leader I guess is barking at me stepping forward as I step back to the walls with the barred up window behind me. I was trapped.
"You got a problem with being a white man?"
"Wh-what?" But it's making sense to me now. I can see their Doc's are done up with white laces, same with their braces. 2+2=Oh shit. In my little substratum of counter-culture, aka "the scene", complex issues regarding your ideological, political & even sexual identity could be summed up by the color of your boot laces. A quick recap goes as follows: White= White pride & Red= being a nazi. I'm sure one could be 'Pride but not a Nazi but not vice versa. Black=SHARP which was an acronym for SkinHead Against Racial Prejudice. What I would often refer to as 'Racist free Facism'. The other lace colors had some kind of meaning i'm sure. I think Mauve meant you were a SHAM a SkinHead Against Marxism, Ochre meant you were a Poststructuralist anarchist and Green meant you were horny(or maybe that's M&M's I always get those twomixed up). I wore theblack laces, because they were the ones that came with the boots.
"Yeah. You best be scared boy." the littler one sneers.
But the bathroom stall behind them is opening. Big Jodie & Skinhead Dave step out loudly sniffing. Eyeing them and me.
"What's up?" Jodie asks nodding to the boneheads.
"Nazi's" Dave answers matter of factly, looking bored by the whole scenario.
"Hey I ain't no nazi" the little one says "I'm white power."
"We can do this here. Or you can meet us outside in 15." The bigger one says "
Jodie looks excited, maybe it's the powdered sugar on his nose, maybe it's because none of the girls will do him, maybe because he thought the show was lame, whatever his reasons.
"Parking lot.15 minutes bitch."
And here we are.
I can hear the exchange of hyperboles and threats. I'm not really listening. I'm keeping my eye on that little piece of shit I tagged earlier in the pit. the one with a limp. If i go down, hell if we go down then you best believe i'm taking junior here down with me.
Jodie says something to us and rushes forward, the others follow. Even Aaron- who we thought was a pussy. I breathe in...
This was Miami in '89.
the 7 seconds show.
Bad heat cooking our brains stupid.
... and I step forward.
This was the summer of '89 and summer in Miami is like living in the tropics. Maybe that was it. The heat and humidity had settled into our tempers, making us all a little less ... well... diplomatic lets say. We were at the 7 seconds show over at the Cameo Theater. I could take them or leave them, but 90% of why people went to shows wasn't for the music - it was what the music did to us, the way it got into our blood and let us tap into something deeper than memory, deeper than identity, the music reminded us of one simple truth: That we were still animals. Animals caged by language & habit.
I was in the pit taking my shots and landing a few of my own. Some little shit of a skin comes out of the blue and lands an elbow into the side of my temple. I staggered and recovered, nothing I couldn't handle. Next song I was back in for the kill. I kept waiting for an opening, watching him bob and weave through the crowd with that asshole smirk planted wide on his face. NOW!I burst out of the crowd flailing my limbs like a spastic windmill- crashing into him with all my weight- we tangle into each other and I land a glancing blow that bursts his lip open, as I get pulled up off him I step hard down on his leg, causing him to yelp loudly over the music and disappear back into the safety of the crowd.
Or so I thought.
I was in the upstairs bathroom drinking water out of the sink trying to catch my breath back.
BAM!
The bathroom door explodes with a kick open.
"That him?"
"Yeah. That's him. Look, look he's a SHARP mannnn.."
I turn around and see two lean, vicious pieces of shit eye ball fucking me like I was the new guy on the cellblock.
"Ummm what's up guys?" I ask lamely.
"You. You the piece of shit that jumped my boy?"
I turn around and turn off the faucets to the sink. I catch a quick reflection of myself in the bathroom mirror covered with tags and stickers. I ask myself "Why?" and turn to them.
"You got a fucking problem with us." the leader I guess is barking at me stepping forward as I step back to the walls with the barred up window behind me. I was trapped.
"You got a problem with being a white man?"
"Wh-what?" But it's making sense to me now. I can see their Doc's are done up with white laces, same with their braces. 2+2=Oh shit. In my little substratum of counter-culture, aka "the scene", complex issues regarding your ideological, political & even sexual identity could be summed up by the color of your boot laces. A quick recap goes as follows: White= White pride & Red= being a nazi. I'm sure one could be 'Pride but not a Nazi but not vice versa. Black=SHARP which was an acronym for SkinHead Against Racial Prejudice. What I would often refer to as 'Racist free Facism'. The other lace colors had some kind of meaning i'm sure. I think Mauve meant you were a SHAM a SkinHead Against Marxism, Ochre meant you were a Poststructuralist anarchist and Green meant you were horny(or maybe that's M&M's I always get those twomixed up). I wore theblack laces, because they were the ones that came with the boots.
"Yeah. You best be scared boy." the littler one sneers.
But the bathroom stall behind them is opening. Big Jodie & Skinhead Dave step out loudly sniffing. Eyeing them and me.
"What's up?" Jodie asks nodding to the boneheads.
"Nazi's" Dave answers matter of factly, looking bored by the whole scenario.
"Hey I ain't no nazi" the little one says "I'm white power."
"We can do this here. Or you can meet us outside in 15." The bigger one says "
Jodie looks excited, maybe it's the powdered sugar on his nose, maybe it's because none of the girls will do him, maybe because he thought the show was lame, whatever his reasons.
"Parking lot.15 minutes bitch."
And here we are.
I can hear the exchange of hyperboles and threats. I'm not really listening. I'm keeping my eye on that little piece of shit I tagged earlier in the pit. the one with a limp. If i go down, hell if we go down then you best believe i'm taking junior here down with me.
Jodie says something to us and rushes forward, the others follow. Even Aaron- who we thought was a pussy. I breathe in...
This was Miami in '89.
the 7 seconds show.
Bad heat cooking our brains stupid.
... and I step forward.
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no subject
on 2004-10-12 05:39 pm (UTC)uh.... *wide eyed* so then what happened?
Aaahhh the old days....
on 2004-10-13 06:30 am (UTC)just wanted to share the moment, cheers!!
Lisa
Re: Aaahhh the old days....
on 2004-10-13 08:36 am (UTC)I don't know how you found me, or if you even know and or remember me.Crazy! How is Alex doing? Do you still hear from Mike? I lost track with everyone over the last ten years- Tim,Brad or herb? Whatever happened to them?
Re: Aaahhh the old days....
on 2004-10-13 08:58 am (UTC)Alex is now Ally, 13 and full of attitude...looks like a mini paris hilton *shakes head* i see Mike on occasion, it was a nasty break up and he and Ally have had problems. But hes doing well with Helen and their two sons..i hear Tim and Liisa are still together, Brad i haven't seen since Nemesis...Herb is still in Orlando i think, but i haven't seen any of them in years. i have been living with Joseph (Abusement Park) for the last couple years and still work in acctg (dork that i am but it pays the bills :-P) but have alot of fun helping him throw parties and perform in the shows...i even talked to Dave online earlier this year, he's on friendster!! LOL... too much... i saw scott shucker at the tattoo convention and a bunch of old school skins at the psychadelic furs show of all places..even Howard! i see u work with Jsin, we just threw some parties with him at the Fetishcon event, he was awesome.
so how are YOU???
btw my email is darwin_logic@hotmail.com. feel free to drop a line, im on myspace too.
hugs,
Lisa