I learned something on Friday night. Actually, I’m pretty upset with myself that I never gave it any thought before. Ladies and gentleman, one of our fellow bloggers missed his calling.
Friday night, the Rev and I went to the Khyber in Philly to see one of our favorite bands, Electric 6, perform. The first time we went, back in the summer, Rev wasn’t really too familiar with their stuff, but agreed to go with me, ‘cause he’s a helluva guy. We basically stood in the back of the Khyber, which, if you never been, is not all that different than one of the gates of hell. Still, E-6 rocked, and Smokin’ became a fan.
About 3 weeks ago, the Rev e-mails me and tells me that E-6 is coming back to the Khyber, and that we should go. I was thrilled to see them again, I was just kinda hopin’ that they would’ve chosen a different venue, like maybe the TLA. They were turning people away at the door, so I’m guessing E-6 probably could’ve gotten 1,000 people to show up.
Anyway, the Rev had one of his bright ideas, and said that we should go towards the front of the venue so that he could get some good picks of the band. I was game, but I knew that we’d probably regret it eventually. Sure, Smokin’ got some really good pics, but I’m still trying to figure out if it was worth it. We basically found ourselves on the edge of a rather rowdy mosh-pit.
Not that I’m a pussy, but I’ve tended to stay away from mosh-pits, mainly because I’m clumsy, a klutz, and basically, I’m “That Guy” – you know, the guy that somehow gets hurt with freak situations like getting elbowed in the face during a game of Frisbee football 1-week prior to my junior prom (yep – had a black eye – and the camera caught it perfectly in my prom photo).
Thankfully, I had the Rev as buffer. He was actively knockin’ people over left and right, like a prison guard in Alabama, and keeping the mosh pit from me. Watching him powerfully push the entire mosh pit to the other side of the room, I realized something. The Rev would’ve been a great offensive lineman – an all-pro, probably, had he decided to give that “profession” a serious shot, instead of taking a liking to reporting traffic.
Donovan McNabb probably would’ve won a few Super Bowls by now, if Smokin’ would’ve just put on the pads (no, not those feminine pads), and smothered the competition. Smokin’ is rapidly approaching his mid-30’s, so it’s probably too late for an NFL career at this point, but what if? It would’ve been something, dammit!
Happy New Year, All!