Get in the pit....

Growing up 40 minutes south of Washington, DC had its advantages. One being the ability to go see some amazing bands play. And there were many, many DC bands to be seen. Government Issue, Soul Side, King Face, and one of my favorites, Scream. In fact, Scream was the headliner at the first hardcore show I ever went to in DC.

It was December 23rd. I was spending the night at Russell's house. We drove up with Eric. Having grown up in a small town, DC always seemed so busy and crazy to me, with everything on top of each other and constant detours due to the roads being dug up around every corner. I had gone up there as a kid on school field trips to museums, to see plays, etc, but never had been there at night.

We got up there about an hour before the show so we could walk around and meet up with the many friends who were going there for the show too. We drove around and found a parking spot, not an easy feat to do in most city's, unless you're willing to pay for a parking area, and us being poor punk kids, we looked for a free spot. We needed our money for gas, entry fee and t-shirts! So, we ran into our friends and walked the streets for a few to check it out. What sites to see! Pimps in fur coats, hookers in short leather skirts with fur coats on. These were the high end call girls. You also had the ones with the stockings with holes, smoking cigarettes and shivering because they didn't have the nice furs the other girls did. Homeless people roamed around with their bags and shopping carts, looking for the next place to sleep for the night, always asking for a quarter. Why is it that a quarter dollar is so important for people who are homeless? I suppose it's easier than trying to lug around pennies and dimes, plus, you're a quarter of the way to a whole dollar. Remember when a dollar meant something to you as a kid? It seemed like it was a fortune. Maybe to a homeless person, they always have that feeling?

Anyways, time was getting close and we made our way to the 9:30 club. At the time, the 9:30 was a small venue. It had hanging speakers so as not to take up any room on the floor, plus the stacks of speakers on the stage. We waited in line, bull shitting with our friends, looking at the merchandise for sale, that we would pick up on the way out. No point in buying something you have to hold all night while you're trying to enjoy the bands and dance! Since we were all under 21, we all got big X's on our hands to indicate to the bartender not to serve us. We walked through the door and I was amazed. I had never been a REAL place that shows/concerts were held. We had our own shows locally, but they were at different places and those places weren't created just for concerts. I was in awe of the size of the speakers hanging, the stacks of amplifiers, how smoky the room was even with the few people that were in there yet. It was what I had dreamed it would be and more.

We all hung out, about 12 to 15 of us from SOMD. We talked about the normal stuff, skating, girls, new music that had come out, the show we were about to see, pointing out people that were in the bands that were playing that night. One thing that stands out in my memory was one of my friends, I will call him T so as not to cause any embarrassment if he reads this, had heard that the bass player from Scream had been a male prostitute at one point in his life, and he was nervous that he was gonna come after him! Seek his young, sexy body out I guess....too funny.

There were two opening bands, but I don't remember who they were. I do remember that as those two bands played, there weren't that many people there to watch. I learned through the years that that is usually how it is. Some lesser name local bands are opening and their friends usually make up the majority of the crowd during their sets, and as the time for the headlining band to start approaches, the place gets more and more packed. Well, this night was no exception. What seemed like an ok sized room turned into a room packed shoulder to shoulder full of people by the time Scream was ready to come on. I am unsure what capacity for the club was, but I am sure we reached it and then some. We were on top of one another, and where the crowd moved, you moved.

It was time for Scream to play. At the sound of the first note, the swaying crowd turned into an alive monster. People started moving up and down, side to side, and eventually into a whirlpool of a circle pit. You were either in it, or pressed against the wall on the outskirts or up against the stage. Most people on the wall were on full alert, watching for an errant slam dancer to get shoved out of the crowd their way, and being ready to push them right back into the pit. I found myself there a few times, trying to catch my breath, or nursing a sore rib from catching an elbow. We had circle pits at the shows we held in our town, but nothing compared to this. This was an alive, breathing and moving thing, taking all comers, chewing them up and spitting them out.

I decided to work my way up to the stage and watch from the ground floor point of view. I fought my way around the pit a few times, and finally snuck in behind one or two people right up front in the middle. One happened to be my old friend Joe. We managed to get our ribs right up against the stage and had our hands up, yelling along with the songs and cheering in between. Next thing I know, Joe has his hands placed firmly on the stage and he is climbing up. I wondered to myself, "What in the HELL is he doing?" Joe got on the stage and I was sure someone, a bouncer or a member of the band, was gonna shove him right off. But no, he turned around a nd dove right on top of everyone in the crowd! And what was amazing to me was they caught him as if they were expecting him! I watched them pass him around for a bit, then he disappeared. I looked for a few seconds and finally saw him back in the pit, dancing away. I wanted to try this but was full of doubt and fear. Would I be the one a bouncer grabs up and pummels for getting onstage? Would I bump into a band member and screw him up and get a guitar on the head? I was unsure of the "etiquette" of stage diving and didn't wanna fuck it up. Finally, I got my nerve up and climbed up on the stage. No bouncer, no bass player winking at me, no singer beating me with the mike, just me balanced on the edge, looking at the band. I turned around and watched for what seemed like forever, the swirling of bodies going around and around. I worked up all my nerve and jumped like superman onto the mass of moving people! Not realizing how little space I actually had, I kicked one of the over hanging speakers with my heel as I lunged forward and down. I can remember thinking as I fell in slow motion, "Please catch me, please catch me......" And they did! I was on top of the monster, hands passing me back and forth, moving from one side to the next, until an opening of people appeared. Down I went, but luckily I caught myself before I splatted on the sweaty, dirty floor. And to my amazement, there were at least 5 or 6 people helping me up! I wasn't gonna get trampled after all! i turned and looked up at the swinging speaker, willing it not to fall on us, not wanting to be responsible for people getting crushed. But, I wasn't the first person to kick it, and surely wasn't the last. I spent the remainder of the show doing as many stage dives as possible, running around and dancing, having the time of my life.

The show wrapped up and we made our way to the merchandise table. I bought a Scream shirt with a skeleton playing the bongos. It was in support of their latest record, "Banging the Drum". Those words actually glowed in the dark. My son still has it in his drawer as a night shirt, seeing as it probably wouldn't fit around my arm now. As we walked out, I remember walking into the cold December night and FREEZING! I had sweated so much, my clothes were drenched as if someone had sprayed me down with a fire hose. We got back to Russell's house and I passed out cold from exhaustion.

The next day, being Christmas Eve, I had to be home pretty early. So, I go home, sporting my new shirt and dry clothes. My wet stuff were in a bag. I dumped them in the laundry when I got home. My mom grabbed the laundry a little later and yelled, "JIMMY! COME HERE!" I walked in and she was holding my drenched clothes and wondered how they had gotten that way? Seeing as how I wasn't supposed to be going to DC at night, especially without my folks, I told her we had had a local show and they got that way from dancing. She then accused me of having jumped into a pool! In the middle of December. I told her, "Well mom, I did some diving last night, but it wasn't into a pool......."