At my work they decided to jam more people into my cubicle... dumb. Hot-desking, space constraints, flexible workforce. Whatever, all I know is now I have to listen to three stooges singing Johnny Cash songs together. A capella, unless you count tapping your mouse against the desk in some crazy 23/16 meter. One of these three came up to me the other day and said "Mindsnare.......................... good band......................................very good.....................I saw them in Byron.....Bay.....................they were not the headlining band.................................but all agreed they stole the show." (pauses sic, approximate length captured as accurately as ellipses can measure. Rest assured listening to him talk is like listening to a marathon runner thanking his fans and supporters after a gruelling run). To put this into context: man is sixtysomething, man has a defibilrator, man has never once mentioned this show he saw which took place some months before. Unbelievable. The most posi- moment of my month. One can imagine a sixty year old man with a mechanised pig heart opening up the pit and creepycrawling all over the floor, but one can't quite process this... in the abstract it is comprehendable, but to really get down to the nuts and bolts of it, to really get down to BRASS TACKS: no way. No way can I imagine this man either as a long hair up front or caught in the mosh at the back. Head nod on the back wall? Stage dive to the left? Camera to the right? Holy fuck. I wish I was there to see him headwalk.
Further contextual details necessary to take this story to the NEXT LEVEL: this was one of several Mindsnare shows of that period where rumours of their imminent demise were rampant, just before anything official but filtered through friend-of-mine-knows-gordy. Needless to say, shit would have been even more off the wall than usual; the show that this Old Man (have I made it clear that he is old I KNOW RIGHT) was in attendance was some sydney-fest-fuck with a gazillion bands... 60 dollar door charge and for all intents sold out - wall to wall tattooed, lobe stretched, black tshirt, unkempt hair hardcore kids; just think, he doesn't have vans or converse trainers or nike dunks, so what was he wearing?
This rates as number 1 posi moment of 3, two and three being discovering a colleague whose main preoccupation was spreadsheets http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifand updating JDFs had a box of Husker Du and Exploding Mice records at his parents house from back in his punk days, and a train driver stopping the Perth/Mandurah express line to scoop up some ducklings seperated from their mum and let them ride in the cabin rather than crush them into meal, and the ducklings cries coming out over the intercom, respectively. A good month. Almost outweighs the anxiety attacks I've been having, the suicidal thoughts.
(photo credit danny cohen, more cool shit here... http://dannycohenphoto.com/ ... I dig it... Inlays for Mindnsare LPs and awesome Melbz band The Seduction. Feel it).
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