I am finally getting to the point in my life where I can go somewhere and feel old. Friday night we went to Gilman (I can’t believe that place is still there) to see MDC. About a block from the entrance, where the kids were sitting in their cars and on the sidewalk, I suddenly felt soooooo old and out of place. I mean, these kids must have averaged about 17 years old. 11 years seems like an eternity when it’s staring at you with its wide-eyed idealistic exuberance. I may have been more like them, once. And none of them would think that in ten years I was what they would become, jeans and a hoodie, no patches, nothing ripped, not a stud or spike to be seen. What happened to us?
When we got near the building, however, Dave Dichtor came out and I felt a little less old. Huh. How long have they been around, anyway? I think they were old-school when I was growing up, so these kids must be, like the children of the original fans. Normally that would make me think that the band was outplaying its useful time, but MDC was still good times. Dichtor wears his years on his face, but he smiles when the music starts, and then he’s got more energy than I’ve had in a long time. And he’s got something to do and something to say. Still, one of my favorite bands. Yay! And getting tapped by an underage girl to buy beer out front made the night memorable.