Death's Door presents the Bar Years

Back “in the day” when I bounced at night and worked at the music store I had a few adventures and shit. This highlights just a few of em.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

 

WHITE DOPES ON PUNK

Back in the late seventy’s and early eighties Punk was just hitting the area. I wasn’t per say part of the punk scene; I just ended up having a common ground with em. It’s funny how you end up meeting some people. My best friend back then was a stripper who was one of the most violent people I’ve ever met and she was hard in with the local punk crowd. We used to go club hopping and when it was her turn to steer we’d end up at either the Downliner or the Musicbox or maybe the Roadhouse or some other place where the music was loud. These were all Punk bars back in the day. The Roadhouse was an interesting spot; it was an old three or four story house out in the country. It wasn’t really a club or bar, it was just a bigass house where after all the other clubs closed we would all end up. On the first floor was where the music was and the other floors were more or less full of old couches and mattresses. Most people never got higher then the lower level. The more “in” you were, the higher you could go. That was the way shit was back then and nobody bitched too loud. So by hanging with her and being known as a bouncer who treated everyone square, I was able to run and party with this crowd on a regular basis. I tell ya, this bunch had a set of rules they lived by. I learned real quick that if they liked you there weren’t too many wrongs a cat could do. But by the same token if this crowd disliked you or if you weren’t one of em and got too close, the beat down was intense, and believe me the Mob could learn a few things by watching an old school Punk beat down. I noticed real quickly that there weren’t many people of color in this crowd. Punks ended up showing me that some people could hate a person because of their color, but still love a person of different color if he was considered one of theirs. It didn’t make sense at first, but over the years I’ve come to call a lot of people friend that if seen in a different setting would come off as extremely prejudice. We’ve talked and tried to figure it. I don’t think they’re prejudice, just confused. It’s like a person spending all their time tanning and trying to get darker, then calling down on a person of color. What the fuck, you know? It all ends up good. They got to know and love a person like me, and I was privileged to be let into a culture and make friends that enriched my life.
Peace

posted by Greg Beck  # 9:51 AM
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Name: Greg Beck
Home: first bar stool to the left, make mine a Beam & coke please!, United States
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