this was my first warped tour. I saw Itch which was the best band ever! I met chiodos for the second time—it was awesome! we gave them the picture of me when I was two and now I’m seven and Derick said two to seven crazy!

there was a lot of free shit meow meow meow. we passed the Vans tent and the guy said Hey Kid here and he gave me this band dana. I loved going on the water slide I said DADDY CAN I GO ON THE WATER SLIDE :(

I went in the wtf tent which tells about a bunny that they tested make-up on ”it was sad” there was a jacket with baby dolls mommy said it was creepy. I found a doll foot later from the wtf tent!

I said to mommy “f*** the nonsense of your healthcare”

[Ed.Note: I don’t know where he heard that, but he said it ALL DAY LONG & his middle finger was also part of this new routine. One day at Warped Tour and he already has punk ethics.]

look how mad dumb dumb daddy is he’s so mad he had to hold my stuff the whole day muh ha ha ha ha and spend money just for shirts :( he was sad because ted nugget wasn’t there

at the band Handguns they said circle pit! And I called it the psycho hole. I felt sad when warped tour was over I had the best day ever ha ha ha my cat shirt say’s that!

Obligatory List of Bands We (I) Saw:

• Itch — Chooch’s new favorite.
• Stick To Your Guns — “too political, STFU,” per Henry, but I really liked them a lot.
• Architects (UK) — Chooch only let me stick around for 1.5 songs.
• Hawthorne Heights — only about 5 minutes’ worth, but at least “Ohio Is For Lovers” was covered in that.
• The Wonder Years
• letlive.
• Craig Owens — so on point.
• We Came As Romans
• The Used — definitely unplugged the hole in my heart.
• Chiodos!!!
• Forever Came Calling — only got to see their last song.
• Hands Like Houses — SO FUCKING GOOD. Even better than when I saw them last November with Pierce the Veil. They’re the only band that has come even close to filling the void that Emarosa left in my heart, even though one of the guys looks like if Tim Curry was in A Flock of Seagulls.  I could (and probably will) fill an entire blog post with my detailed feelings about them, but I’m trying to be succinct and wrap this shit up, OK?! No wait, not without saying that I want to stick my tongue down the singer’s Australian throat.
• Bring Me the Horizon — Oli made us all sit down at one point and that’s how I wound up walking around the rest of the day with motherfucking GUM ON MY ASS, thanks Oli.
• Big Chocolate
• Never Shout Never — this one was Chooch’s pick. But the thing with Chooch is that when he says, “I want to see [this band], he literally means, “I want to walk over there until I can see them and then we can go somewhere else.” Chiodos and Hands Like Houses I think were the only full sets he endured. But he’s 7, what can you do.
• Silverstein
• August Burns Red
• Anarbor
• Handguns — REALLY enjoyed this band a lot. I had only heard one of their songs before, but I’m definitely a fan now.
• Run DMT
• Sleeping With Sirens — Henry really dislikes them live. He pretty much scowled and rolled his eyes through their whole set, and I couldn’t even get him to admit that “Roger Rabbit” was pretty good. He thinks Kellin is an awful live singer. (I agree with this at times, but Kellin Quinn is OMGSOCUTE so they don’t have to worry about not having thousands of screaming and crying girls in front of their stage. To be fair, the rest of the band is fucking fantastic.)

The best/worst thing about Warped Tour is that there are so many bands, in such an array of genres, that the possibilities are endless! It’s a Ritalin kid’s wet dream—you canNOT get bored at Warped Tour unless you absolutely hate music. The downside to this is that it’s impossible to see everything. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to fall to my knees and scream in anguish because two bands I really love were scheduled to play at the same time on two different stages. But, that’s the nature of Warped Tour and the only way to change it would be to have less bands. And I vote no on that.

The Wonder Years & a rainstorm.

We saw a shit ton of bands on this day, but there were a few standouts, and letlive. was definitely the brightest highlight. Henry had taken Chooch to get food while this was going on, and I am still, a week later, trying to explain to Henry exactly what he missed. He of course does not give a shit.

letlive. is a band that might not be easily swallowed for some people. When I was friends with Alisha, she was actually extremely tolerant and open-minded of the music I listened to, but she just couldn’t get behind letlive. And I can understand that—they’re not for everyone. But their live show, my fucking Christ. Jason Aalon Butler is like a tightly wound snake on stage, recoiling for .002 seconds only to spring and lurch back up in a different direction; it was like watching someone have a psychotic episode—scary and fucking fascinating. I don’t know how photographers are able to snap any decent photos of him because he does.not.stop. We saw them in Lancaster last March, opening for Pierce the Veil, and to be perfectly honest, they are the reason I was so insistent on driving the 4 hours to that show rather than wait for Pierce the Veil to come back to Pittsburgh on a different tour a month later: I wanted to see letlive,, and I wanted to see Jason sing with Vic from Pierce the Veil (he has a guest appearance on the new PTV album). Unfortunately, since we had Chooch with us, we were standing back too far in the club for me to really get to see much.

He left the stage at one point and everyone looked really concerned. I couldn’t see where he went from where I was standing, but when he came back on stage, he was covered in paint.

They ended the set with Jason intertwining himself around the drum set, which is sometimes what I do to Henry when I’m feeling especially clingy and don’t want him to leave for work. Not that that happens often!!

Please come back to Pittsburgh soon, letlive. PLEASE.

The Used—I have seen them countless times and they have never put on a bad show. They ended with Pretty Handsome Awkward and I cried.

When am I not crying, though.

WET HENRY! RUNNNN!!!

Can we just stop for a second and really look at this picture? No, I mean—REALLY LOOK. That is a smile, you guys. A smile at WARPED TOUR. It’s a motherfucking Christmas miracle. Orphans are gon’ feed tonight!

Chooch with more free shit. He didn’t even care that it was pink, because it was free.

We climbed this hill a million times. Warped Tour is good exercise. Also—look at the rainbow furry tail up there on the right!!!

 Shirtless Chooch during Never Shout Never, whom he has taken a liking to just because he heard one of their songs on a mix CD I made awhile back, and liked how Christopher Drew said the word “question.” When I found out NSN was going to be at this year’s Warped Tour and I told Chooch, he said super-dramatically, “Thank god.” Then he bought one of their CDs at the Exchange on Monday and I have my fingers crossed that this is just the beginning of what will one day be a Hoarder’s episode of a music collection.

Crowd-rafting for Bring Me the Horizon. 

Oh man, Bring Me the Horizon was fantastic!! Earlier in the day when we were in line to meet Chiodos, we saw Oli Sykes milling about and I almost died because he is even more Britishly handsome up close OMG. Henry just rolled his eyes, but the important part of this is that not only did Henry know who he was, he also pointed out Kellin Quinn later on, too. Henry is such a secret scene girl.

But really, he just reads Alternative Press a lot in the bathroom.

Chooch’s wristband collection. He got the Fuck Yeah, I <3 Animals wristband from the Peta2 tent, but he’s supposed to be guest-posting later so I’ll let him write about the horrors he encountered inside. Suffice to say, when we were walking back to the car that night and he was leafing through more Peta2 literature, he said to be very earnestly, “I should stop eating meat. I really want to…but I just REALLY like hamburgers. I’m not sure I’m ready to join your team yet, Mommy.”

It was so cute! But for the record: I have never tried to brainwash the kid into going meatless. (I myself haven’t even been a full-veg for several years now after discovering that I REALLY LOVE SUSHI.) But what’s cool about Chooch is that he eats tofu on his own and loves it.  I would never push him into being a vegetarian. Just like I would never push him to like or dislike a certain band. (Again, I only do that to Henry. Haha.)

Meanwhile, Henry was making a new friend while Chooch and I were in PETA’s WTF Tent:

Yes, that was my reaction too.

Anyway, this guy was running the merch booth for some clothing company that benefits the homeless, so Henry asked me if I wanted a t-shirt.

RECORD SCRATCH.

Henry NEVER asks me if I want merch at a show! So here we are, once again, back to my theory that he’s either cheating on me or selling drugs.

I mean, I didn’t actually even want one of these t-shirts, but it was for a cause and Henry seemed so eager to please his new friend In the Universal Studios tank (perhaps that’s his mistress), so I let him buy me a shirt. And then I also let him buy me a Warped Tour 2013 t-shirt and a Hands Like Houses tank.

New Henry rules!!

 So fucking hardcore. This is my new favorite  shot of Chooch!

The Spotify Stage had all the dancing.

Somehow I forgot to mention that when we were standing in line that morning to get in, Henry pointed to a small hill on the other side of the fence and said, “Look who it is.”

It was KEVIN LYMAN, the Warped Tour godfather himself. In all of the years I have been going, I have never seen him, even though I know that he walks around a lot. And there he was, standing at the top of this hill, on the phone, assessing the crowd. You guys, he is such an inspiration to me. If I ever got to meet him…it would be Waterwork City.

At the end of the day, Chooch is still just a kid who wants to eat a fucking ice cream cone. Only, he’s a kid who eats a fucking ice cream cone with a band behind him screaming bloody murder.

Motherfucking juxtaposition.

I really hope this is Saint Eminem on her calf.

Chooch already has the ambivalent scene armcross going on here, but let’s address Parenting Fail No. 66976: Check out his fucking sunburn. When we arrived at First Niagara that morning, I assumed Henry sprayed Chooch with sunscreen because I could smell it on him. Apparently, Henry assumed that I had covered that parental task. Turns out, CHOOCH applied HIMSELF with sunscreen and did a pisspoor job of it—look at the weird amoeba-outline!

Oh, to be a Perfect Parent. I hear they’re out there. I think they’re called Mommy Bloggers?

This is the Handguns crowd. There was so much energy, it was palpable! (Henry still yawned through their set though.)

So, remember in my Warped Tour preface, where I ranted and bitched about people judging those of us who choose to bring our kids to Warped Tour and how it’s not like I had Chooch in any circle pits or anything?

Well…

Funny thing…

Handguns played on one of the smaller stages, so the crowd wasn’t very big. This meant that we were extremely close to the stage and just happened to be standing in the line of fire when a circle pit broke out. I mean, it’s not like Chooch got swept up in it or anything, but I suppose that if Henry and I had been too busy lighting our joints at that moment (A JOKE), perhaps this would have had a different outcome.

Instead, Chooch soaked this all in, his first glimpse at a real life circle pit, and then this happened:

Sleeping With Sirens was the last band of the night and even though Henry had his laundry list of gripes, I really enjoyed their set but was sad at the same time because I knew that as soon as they were done, it was going to be time to leave. I swear, this is the shortest day of the year. (Unless you’re Henry.)

In conclusion, do I regret my decision to bring Chooch with us this year? NO. It was the best idea ever, and I’m positive that it’s something he will never forget. And do you want to know the number of times he threw a fit? Zero. Number of times we had to yell at him? Zero. Number of times he got hurt? Zero. Number of times he wanted to leave? Zero. Number of times he smiled/jumped/laughed/danced/threw metal horns into the sky? LIKE A THOUSAND! In fact, Chooch was looking at the back of one of the Warped Tour shirts that had a list of cities and he cried, “IT’S GOING TO BE IN CLEVELAND TOMORROW?! CAN WE GO!?”

This of course prompted me to spin and scream into Henry’s face, “YEAH CAN WE GO, HENRY!?” He just frowned and trudged away into the metalcore-soundtracked sunset.

Fuck, I really wish I was still there. I have got to find a way to land myself a spot inside a merch tent or something.

Sometime around noon, Craig Owens and Bradley Bell of Chiodos did a little acoustic show in the Acoustic Basement tent. Craig is a hot commodity in this scene, so the crowd was spilling like hot and sweaty guts out of the tent. Chooch couldn’t actually see Craig from where we were standing, plus we were all smashed together with a throng of sweaty kids and lost interest, so Henry opted to take Chooch to the inflatable slip n’ slide while I quietly dropped tears from my eyeballs as Craig strummed some of my favorite Chiodos/D.R.U.G.S./his own solo songs on his guitar while Bradley accompanied him on keyboard. It was, in spite of the face-melting heat, one of the most sublime performances I’ve experienced at Warped Tour. Absolute perfection, and I noticed that Craig had made subtle tweaks to his vocals on certain parts of songs that just really gave it a whole new feel.

Attention all of my worst critics, who were once the best of friends…

I got this from someone’s YouTube, and while the quality is what you’d expect from an iPhone recording, I wanted to post it anyway so that I can go back and remember the moments that made the hairs stand up on my arms.

Later in the afternoon, Chiodos did a signing at their merch tent. I was anticipating this, so I came prepared with a copy of a picture we took of Chooch with Chiodos back in 2008 when they did an in-store signing at a record store in Columbus, OH. They weren’t even performing, just doing a meet and greet, and I still made Henry drive the 3+ hours because OMFG CHIODOS!!

Anyway, I thought it would be cool to give them a copy of it and have Chooch re-meet them now that he’s at an age where he can remember it.  While we were standing in line, one of the kids behind me tapped me on the shoulder and, pointing to Chooch, asked, “Excuse me, but is that him in the picture?” I said it was and he and his friend were all, “Oh, that is so cool. He’s so lucky!” And Chooch smiled all proudly because HELLO HE HAS A COOL MOM, THANK YOU. Maybe now he’s starting to recognize that shit.

When we were next, Derrick Frost, their drummer, took the picture from me after I explained that Chooch had met them when he was almost two-years-old. He looked at it and said, “I remember this!” And I don’t think he was bullshitting me! “Is this for us? Can we have this?” he asked, and when I said yes, he said, “This is getting hung up on our bus!” We bought Chooch a shirt earlier from their merch tent, so Derrick signed it and then passed it down the table to Matt.

“Do you want a poster too?” he asked Chooch. So Derrick signed the poster too and then write “2 to 7 — crazy!”

Derrick has actually been my favorite member of Chiodos ever since that day in Columbus, and I was so so so happy to see him again! He re-joined the band around teh same time Craig came back, which was like the cherry on top, really. He’s just such a good, decent dude. (And, just like in 2008, basically the only one of them who spoke to us, haha.)

We weren’t allowed to take pictures, but I made Henry stand off to the side, which probably didn’t look too out of place because he has that “Creepy Corner Dweller” image anyway, to try to take some covert photos.

Classy bra straps, FTW, Erin.

“You’re not going to like this picture,” Henry warned. “Because your hair’s wet.” (There was a brief rainstorm that was so fucking appreciated because it cut the humidity down and the rest of the day was so much more tolerable. Plus, it made jumping to the Wonder Years even more fun!)

Right, Henry. THAT’S the reason I don’t like this picture of me. It’s not at all because of my hunchback (which I don’t really have, I swear! I would be honest if I did), awkward stance or stupidly huge nose.

But I know, I know. It’s not about me, it’s about Chooch’s big moment, blah blah blah. And wouldya look at him cheesin’ up there!

Meanwhile, Chooch was a repeat customer at the misting station and inflatable slip n’ slide, which ended up being our saviors of the day and totally prevented a Big Butler Fair Psycho Heat Stroke relapse.

 After one of their slip ‘n’ slide field trips, Henry brought Chooch back to me shirtless, which is how he remained for the rest of the day all because some dudes told him to take his shirt off. (Not in a gross, sleazy way, but in a “You’ll be able to slide better” way.” Chooch was really well-received by the older bros all day! I can’t tell you how many random high-fives were requested of him.)

The guy in the weird straw hat was the Warped-appointed slip ‘n’ slide regulator all day, so he and Chooch became pretty chummy (according to Henry, anyway; I was only there with him three of the 87 gabillion times he slid across a slide commingled with scene-sweat and water). Also, the guy behind Chooch was giving him some kind of tip. He must be a seasoned veteran, because the only tip I know to give someone is “run! now…slide.”

Also, the guy behind Chooch is hot.

Warped Tour is for making franz with trannies before Chiodos’ set.

Waiting for Chiodos dangerously close to crotch-sweat.

Henry’s serious, non-smiling review of Chiodos: “They were good. They are always good.” This is also what Henry looks like when he’s enjoying ice cream, sex, and being tickled.

I can’t wait until Chooch is older so I can ask, “Hey Chooch, remember that time you were sitting on the edge of a garbage can during a Chiodos show while some kid was puking in it?” And he’ll say, “What? No!” And then I’ll pretend that it didn’t happen.

I don’t even know how to explain what these guys do to my heart. But I will tell you that during the summer of 2007, Henry and I came sickeningly close to breaking up. He was even looking for an apartment. I spent a lot of time during the month of August listening to the All’s Well That Ends Well album and furiously painting; that summer, the song “Baby, You Wouldn’t Last a Minute On the Creek” became kind of my anthem.

SPOILER ALERT: We sorted things out. Ever since then, Chiodos is one of the few bands that we both like and Henry doesn’t bitch about having to go see. Even though Craig Owens got shitty with me on Twitter because he didn’t like what I wrote in my blog about his solo show in 2011, I still fucking love this band and cheered when I found out that the rest of the guys made amends with him and invited him back as their singer after giving him the boot in 2009.

 And now Chooch likes them even more, after meeting them again and getting to watch them perform live for the first time ever, and has been singing Thermacare ever since. It’s this really special thing, you guys, to be able to share this with Henry and Chooch, because it’s normally me, all by myself, obsessively loving music and it gets kind of lonely sometimes in my world.

How can I explain this to normal people…it’s kind of like when you go to church as a family, I suppose. That’s what this day felt like to me: the two people I love the most (ugh, shut up, Henry) with me at my favorite place ever, worshiping at the altar of life-saving music.

 I hope Chiodos stay together for a super long time.

******

Here’s Chooch with his framed poster. Henry’s mom was talking to him about it yesterday and she asked him what he said to the band.

“Nothing,” he said. “I was shy.”

And it’s true, he really was! For the first time ever, Chooch was rendered speechless. He really is just like me. I’m about to be 34 and I still get all flustered and weepy when I meet bands and then end up not saying anything and regretting it forever.

Warped Tour in general might have been the Best Day Ever, but the Chiodos parts were the best moments ever.

(This is probably the best, not to mention the worst idea that I have ever had >>> basically everything in my life, ever!)

YOU GUYS! I LOVE WARPED TOUR SO MUCH OMG!! But I was pretty stressed when I woke up Wednesday morning. I mean, sure I was stoked as fuck, but this year’s Warped Tour came with a wildcard and its name was Chooch. He was kind of like, “Sure, I guess I’m excited, whatever” every time I would be like, “Boy, get stoked!” So I worried that we were going to get there and he would be like, “This is hell and totally not for me. Take me somewhere quiet and air-conditioned, Henry” and then Henry would be all, “YES THANK YOU! We’ll be back to get you tonight, Erin. Try not to get date-raped.”

Because date-raping is something that happens a lot at Warped Tour.

(Sike. I really don’t think it is. I mean, Nickelback and Papa Roach aren’t in the line up. Ever.)

We arrived at First Niagara Pavilion bright and early (another reason I was worried—Chooch abhors early starts to the day) and trudged along through the parking lot under the blistering sun with hordes of scene kids whose excitement Henry certainly did not mirror. I usually try to keep conversation to a minimum until we get inside the gates, because he is so busy grouchily presiding over the Land of FML. We split up at the entrance so Henry could go get his Parent Pass* and I could donate our bags of canned goods in order to get the “jump the line” wristbands.” This means our kitchen is now empty, haha. But we only had to stand in line for like, 10 minutes as opposed to an hour!

*(I don’t know if that’s what it was really called. Parents got in free this year as long as they had a ticket-holding child under the age of 18; THIS is why I love Warped Tour and Kevin Lyman—he is always thinking of ways to make it a safer experience for the kids. I did not opt for the free pass. I bought my ticket in December, and even if I hadn’t, I love Warped Tour so much that I want them to have my money. It’s worth it to me.)

When I met back up with Henry and Chooch, I noticed that Chooch had that faux-surly look that I know so well plastered on his face. Turns out, his cougar 8th grade girlfriend Courtney was in line in front of them with her friend and dad. OF ALL THE PEOPLE.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Courtney with her rolled-up Sleeping With Sirens poster. Her friend offered Chooch a Pop Tart and I thought he was going to die, reanimate, and then die again. AHHH, GIRLS ARE TALKING TO ME, OMG!!

We breezed right through security, a perk of having a small child in tow—makes us look less like hooligans. They did make Henry dump out Chooch’s water bottle though. You know, in case Chooch had gin up in there.

And then we were in! Henry went off to purchase a $2 schedule while Chooch and I ran for the Vans tent, because the first 200 people who get there and say the magic words (which you would know if you follow Warped Tour on Twitter and Instagram, god!) get free swag. Other merch tents also do shit like this throughout the day, but I never usually participate because I’m too cool.

(See also: too backward, shy, A SHRINKING VIOLET)

While we were standing in line, an old couple cozied up behind us and we became fast friends. (Not hardly.) This wasn’t their first Warped Tour, but they only come for their kids and they actually enjoy hanging out in the Reverse Daycare tent—an air-conditioned area where old folk can rest their weary bones while their kids flail in circle pits and cry over Kellin Quinn’s pretty hair. Once they found out I’m a grown-up, they thought it was weird that I:

• paid for my ticket on purpose
• actually wanted to be there

Still, they seemed like pretty fun people, and by that I mean they were probably drunk by 11AM and I bet they have fucking fantastic BBQs.

Chooch wound up getting a Warped Tour license plate frame thingie, but as he was walking away, the grizzled guy behind the tent called, out, “HEY KID!” and then hurled a black-and-white checkered Vans wallet at his head. Chooch’s face lit up like a goddamn Best Day Ever billboard at night.

Insidious 2 was being heavily promoted at Warped Tour for some reason (a huge advertisement of it was even hanging up at the back of one of the smaller stages). We swung by their tent and all I had to was tag the above picture on Instagram to get free sunglasses. MORE FREE SHIT YAY!! Fuck I love me some Warped Tour action.

I did a quick once-over of the schedule to determine an impromptu game plan. That’s one of the really awesome things about Warped Tour—-they shuffle the line-up daily in order to avoid headlining bands. So, for instance, just because the Used was one of the more mainstream bands, it didn’t necessarily mean that they were going to play last. Or longer. All bands get the same limited stage time. No room for rockstars, y’all.

The first band we stumbled upon was Architects (UK) and I was really feeling it but Chooch had that Heavy Sigh expression on his face. At first, my natural huffiness began to come out, but then I checked myself. It was still the first hour. I didn’t want to either force him to stand there with me or send him off with Henry so soon. My strategy for this day was to not pressure him or make him feel obligated to “enjoy” something that he wasn’t feeling.

I only do that to Henry.

So we walked around and checked out merch and then migrated under the ampitheater where Stick To Your Guns were playing. I LOVED THEM! HENRY HATED THEM! “They’re too political,” he spat. “They should just shut up and play their stupid music.” So Henry stared at his phone while Chooch and I enjoyed the music for a little while before getting up to see what else was going on.

This is worth watching for Henry’s grimace at the end.

I was thinking about it, and even though there are always bands there that I want to see because I’m a scene kid, I feel like even if there wasn’t that one band that made me scream giddily when the line-up is revealed, I would still go. Because Warped Tour is just about the atmosphere and experience as it is the music. There is so much music to discover there! It’s almost overwhelming, really. No matter where you’re standing, you can hear music. And it is the greatest fucking feeling to be buffeted by music ALL DAY LONG. Chooch, smiling, put his hand on his belly at one point and said, “I can feel [the bass] right here!” He gets it, you guys.

In fact, we had paused for a bit in the shade on a hillside, because it was a scorcher that day and Chooch needed to rest. A solo perfomer from the UK called Itch was on the Spotify Stage at the foot of the hill, and Chooch wound up LOVING HIM. I was pretty stoked on him because he was in a wheelchair and from where I was sitting, I kept imagining that he was Artie from Glee. I found out later that he was only temporarily in the wheelchair due to a leg injury. But he was still pretty good and it was like a party on the stage. Some broad even came out to rap and I kept hoping it was Aneesa from the Real World, because I clearly have bad eyes and watch too much stupid TV.

Bottomline, it was really awesome for me to watch Chooch’s own musical tastes blossoming! I HAVE NEVER LOVED BEING A MOM MORE! Man, if you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, or know me IRL, then you know how much music means to me, and to be able to share that with my kid is just the best fucking feeling in the world.

But still, we were only in the first hour of the day, it was fucking hot as Snooki’s temperature during another chlamydia outbreak, and there was the strong possibility of Chooch becoming overstimulated. So, you know…I definitely didn’t want to assume the whole day was going to be a breeze.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Henry is unamused, you guys. Oh, god that frown. His shirt is basically a Litmus test for how fucking incredibly skin-blisteringly, obscenely hot and moist the air was that day.

Henry could have used his Parent Pass to chill in the Reverse Daycare tent at any given moment, but he didn’t. You know why? Because he secretly loves Warped Tour. (And probably also because he didn’t want Chooch and me to get taken.)

Be back later!

Chooch watching Chiodos for the first time!

The other day, I was scrolling through Instagram when I saw that the Warped Tour account posted a picture of one of the Warped roadies holding up a little girl, maybe around 9 or 10, during the Sleeping With Sirens set. I thought it was so cute, and so did most of the other commenters. However, there were some people enraged that people would bring children to Warped Tour. One of the angriest commenters was a seventeen year old girl! Seriously, shouldn’t you be writing in your diary about blowing the football team and not caring about people taking their kids to Warped Tour?

She went on to list all of the reasons why it was a horrible idea: the alcohol, the violence, the crowds. A lot of the points she made immediately made me think, “Wait, doesn’t this shit go on at sporting events too? People take BABIES to those!” And then it made me wonder how many people were quietly judging me and questioning my decision to take my own kid to Warped Tour, so I began to get more mad at these comments.

In all of the years I’ve been going to Warped Tour, I have encountered very little violence — though I have seen people get hurt in the pit. But…am I going to let my seven-year-old son into a fucking mosh pit? I mean, I’m kind of dumb, but really? For the most part, we stood near the side of the stage, on the periphery of the crowd. Other times, we were sitting under the amphitheater or on the hillside.

And maybe there might be a lot of drinking happening in the parking lot, but inside the venue, I see very little of it. First of all, it’s a primarily young crowd. Second, who can afford to get drunk at concert venues like that? Jesus!

Not impressed with Architects (UK), even though I was. :(

Yeah, it gets crowded—around the stages. It’s not like the entire venue is one concentrated mass of writhing bodies. However, I have seen pictures and videos from other venues and it looks way different than ours here in Pittsburgh. At First Niagara Pavilion, there are plenty of places to go if you need to get away from the crowds.

In one of her many scathing comments, this girl said she would call Child Services next time she sees someone at Warped Tour with a young kid, and that she wasn’t even allowed to attend until she was 16. So I think the real issue she has here is that her parents suck and she was probably too busy listening to Kidz Bop when she was Chooch’s age to even know that Warped Tour existed. But Chooch has grown up to this music! He talks about Craig Owens, Vic Fuentes, Kellin Quinn and Jonny Craig like they’re family members. And now he’s obsessed with Oli Sykes after seeing Bring Me the Horizon. It’s things like this that make my heart swell as a mom.

But the Instagram dissenters are right about one thing: Warped Tour is not a kid-centric event. Yes, there is swearing (oh noes) and other inappropriate things (like a tent handing out Trojan condoms), but that comes with the territory. Your kid can walk down a grocery store aisle and see condoms, or step outside and hear the neighbors swearing at each other. Or go to a family reunion and see people acting like drunk assholes! At the end of the day, Warped Tour is about the music, and Chooch walked away with new favorite bands and a greater sense of understanding for ones he already knew about. I think it all depends on the kid. I certainly wouldn’t take Amy Sue in her Laura Ashley dress.

Henry and I had discussed taking Chooch with us in years past, but ultimately decided that he was too young. (Yes, we used this thing called “discretion”! Imagine that!) This year, Chooch expressed interest in going and we felt he could handle it, and if he couldn’t, it was agreed that Henry would just leave with him and they would come back and get me when it was over. I’m not going to force my kid to stay somewhere like that, all day and all night, if he hates it. (I only do that to Henry.) And it’s not like I’m some fucking minivan-driving soccer mom who just woke up one day and thought, “I’m gonna take my small child to that Warped Tour thing. Maybe Maroon 5 will be there.” I GO EVERY YEAR. I know what to expect. I have occasionally seen other people bring little kids and it always makes me miss Chooch. It’s a long day to be without him!

We’re not bad parents, and we’re not idiots. I would never do anything to put Chooch in danger, and if HENRY is on board with it, you know it will probably be OK. I mean, it’s Henry,  you guys. Do you realize how many times I would have electrocuted or poisoned myself in the past had it not been for him intervening? I trust Henry. (Mostly.)

And guess what guys? Everything was fine! Chooch had FUN and is already talking about next year. Everyone there, from Chiodos fans to bands to Warped staff, were so nice to him. And do you know was the worst thing that almost happened? Chooch almost walked into someone who was hula hooping at one of the merch tents, but some bro stepped up and said, “Whoa little dude, I don’t want you to get hurt!” and steered Chooch in a different direction.

A hula hoop, you guys.

So if some dumb teenager wants to call Child Services next year when they see my kid having a fucking blast at Warped Tour, well, good luck.

Even more than amusement parks, county fairs, road trips and cemetery heat waves, my favorite thing about summer is WARPED TOUR. (Which you already know if you’ve known me for at least 15 days. I have framed pictures of the damn thing on my desk at work for fuck’s sake.

)

The tour officially kicked off a few days ago and I have been salivating over all of the pictures they’ve been throwing up on Instagram. One more month until it’s here in Pittsburgh and I can hardly wait! Chiodos! Sleeping With Sirens! Hands Like Houses! The Wonder Years! letlive.! The Used! Man Overboard! BRING ME THE HORIZON! Plus all the bands I don’t even know that I like yet!  I can’t even. An entire day to be amongst my own people!

What’s notable about this year’s Warped Tour is that it will be Chooch’s first ever time attending!

We almost took him last year, but decided against it at the last minute. But ever since he went to the Pierce the Veil show (and found out his 8th grade cougar-girlfriend will be there), he has been expressing interest in going with us this summer and it’s not like I would ever try to discourage that! I really think he’s going to fucking love it. There’s so much going on there that if he needs a break from the music, he’ll be covered. And I’m sure Henry will be using him as his scapegoat.

“Oh, boy….uh, it looks like Chooch needs to….sit down. Under a tree. And take a nap. BBL KBYE.”

Maybe I’ll try to get them both to guest post about it afterward.

Anyway, I’m posting this not just because I’m excited but also because I needed a break from writing about Kennywood because the residual giggles are apt to get me fired from my job that is how obnoxious I’ve been here this week. Sorry, co-workers! I’m trying to get my psychotic, worrisome laughing fits confined to my desk but sometimes they slip out in the bathroom and the kitchen and every single hallway I’ve tread on today.

No Jonny Craig at Warped Tour this year, too bad so sad.

OK, I need to get back to penning my Kennywood prose so that my detractors can get ready to tell me how grammatically incorrect my “writing” is, at which point I will pause to remind everyone that all I do is post iPhone photos and YouTube videos of my favorite songs, so like…what writing?

Sometimes I like to go back and revisit songs that I REALLY REALLY OMG REALLY DEFINATELY loved as a young teenager to see if they hold up, like “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover” by Sophie B. Hawkins (yes) , “Come Undone” by Duran Duran (YES, GOD YES), “Because I Love You” by Stevie B (I mean….) or anything from the 90210 soundtrack (I mean, I wouldn’t know since I neither owned nor heard that “album”, ever. EVER I SWEAR).

Sometimes these songs just pop in my head. God only knows what triggers them. And this past weekend, I was serendipitously visited by the memory of one Army of Lovers and their strangely exotic song “Crucified.” I was young when this song was played on MTV (I think Kennedy was the VJ who introduced me to them but I could be wrong, and probably am), maybe 13? The song came out in 1991, so maybe I was 12 at the youngest. (God, my blog just keeps getting more and more riveting. How can you guys stand all of this drama!? The suspense?! The total underusage of capitalization?!) But I was captivated, and so I bought the CD single from Waves and tortured my friends with it ad nauseum. (Christy, do you remember this, or have you paid a hypnotist to eradicate the memory from your mind?)

I still have the CD single (I remember it had a minimum of 18 remixes on it, in a variety of languages) floating around somewhere, but I was mostly interested in watching the video again. THANK GOD FOR YOUTUBE.

Does the song hold up? YES. Does the video still make me uncomfortable yet mildy aroused? DEAR GOD, DIARY, YES. Only now I’m watching it and thinking, “THIS IS WHAT I WANT MY WEDDING TO LOOK LIKE!” It’s a good thing I’m never getting married since I can’t make up my fucking mind on the theme. “White Wheelchair Wedding”? “80s New Wave Dance Party”? “Carrie’s Prom”? “Mod Funeral with Waitstaff Wearing Prosthetics”? And didn’t I want to recreate a Cock Robin video in lieu of wedding vows at one point, also? WHO HAS TIME TO CHOOSE. All I know is that no matter what, I’d like to be wearing stilts at some point.

I hope this song plays in your head forever and ever and ever and OMG that fucking cleavage in the beginning of the video, amirite?

I love the original version of Zedd’s “Clarity” so much that I get choked up anytime I hear it (which is often because it’s been my default ringtone for months and I get A LOT of collection calls), but the acoustic version is even better. I even didn’t hate the Glee version, and everyone knows my least favorite part of Glee is the singing.

The next time you see me twirling around in a field, just know that it’s probably because I’m listening to this song in my head.

***

Speaking of twirling, Henry and I watched the whole first season of Showtime’s The Real L Word over the last few nights (OK, maybe I also watched 2-3 episodes on my own every day before work, too). I didn’t even know it existed until I was scrolling through the On Demand TV show listings, because I missed the last Real World: Portland episode (don’t hate) but it wasn’t available yet. Then I saw The Real L Word right next to it and since I would probably definitely be a lesbian if I wasn’t with Henry, I started watching it ASAP.

I think the most excitement Henry gleaned from the entire season was when there was an electrical malfunction during LA Fashion Week. Totally gave him an electrician boner.

Also, I know that Sara (pronounced Saw-da, wtf?) is supposed to be this super hot bitch, but I look at her and see a clean-shaven Dave Navarro. Sorry, Sara. You aren’t for me. (I want to Google photos of her to put on here but I’m at work and I just have a bad feeling about that considering she spends a lot of screen time getting fucked by a strap on.

So do your own Internet sleuthing and then get back to me on that.)

EDIT!!

Lesbian Dave Navarro. Please tell me you see it.

I started Season 2 today and blew up Henry’s phone with my frantic texts. Almost all new girls, wtf!? I’m already in love with at least 4 of them, but fuck you, Showtime.

Today, I came to work and asked Glenn if he watches this show, too. Of course, I said it like Beavis and Glenn was just like, “God, you think you’re so funny.”

***
It’s a hockey night in Pittsburgh so we were permitted to wear jeans and Pens attire to work today. This is the shirt I’m wearing because it’s fucking awesome:

I might have another post later on tonight. I’m slowly getting caught up! However, Chooch and I have been working on something super secret and it’s been taking up a lot of my free time (aka time not spent watching a lesbian reality show). I’m doing my best!

This post is going to be about me hating Jonny Craig. This is my worst nightmare. I hate doing this. I hate writing. In March, we went to see Jonny Craig at Smiling Moose due to the fact that I had a lapse in judgment and bought Erin tickets for Valentines Day.

It’s a good thing that it was an all ages show so that all of the little kids had to stand outside and wait for doors to open while we went inside and sat at the bar so that I could be drunk and power through a two hour concert. Unfortunately, someone else also had an idea to sit at the bar, that being JC. And Erin turned into her normal 13-year-old self as usual. Erin was like, “Oh my god should I talk to him? Oh my god, it looks like he’s looking at me. Do you think he hates me?”

At some point in time, Jonny had sauntered by me [ed.note: Henry used that word himself!!] and the words “Hey how you doing” somehow spewed from my mouth.  Erin had wanted me to follow him into the bathroom to check out his package but then she remembered she had already seen it, all the while making fun of me for actually saying hi to him. I don’t know why I said hi to him. I guess because he just happened to be there.

Erin said I had a crush on the waitress but I don’t remember.

Then I decided we should go upstairs which was really stupid because I hated all of the other bands and didn’t realize that the first band wasn’t even over yet and I could have stayed downstairs and drank more. Erin left me with a 13-year-old in body instead of a 13-year-old in mind [ed.note: I guess that’s me?]  and I felt uncomfortable standing next to her.

Then Jonny came upstairs and stood within a foot of Erin. Erin wanted a shirt but his shirts looked like they had been drawn on  the way to the show in the back of a van and I believe she wanted was priced at $40. [ed.note: This is total bullshit — it was like $18 or $20. He’s such a fucking liar.]

Then I heard an interesting conversation between the sound man and tour manager. The tour manager was telling the sound guy that Jonny was difficult to work with. And then a little while later, the sound guy was talking to Jonny and Jonny mentioned that the tour manager was difficult to work with. I believe they’re both hard to work with.

When Jonny had taken the stage, as per Erin, I had ditched her and taken a spot up in the back near the bigscreen TV as to watch the hockey game. Internet, Erin wants you to know that she was upset because that was supposed to be our Valentine’s date but it turned out to be Erin up near the stage, crying, and Henry in the back watching the hockey game and not crying.

I don’t know why I hate him and his music so much, probably because of Erin. Even if he sang covers of Ted Nugent and Judas Priest. No.

Oh and I believe I had heard somewhere that it was Jonny’s birthday. I don’t have anything funny to say about that, but isn’t it funny enough that he aged another a year? He’s still a dick.

I was pretty annoyed about Saturday night’s Pierce the Veil concert for several reasons:

• it was at an outside concert venue and somewhere around 35 degrees that night (fahrenheit!)
• there was a PIRATES game happening at the same time so every single bar we tried to go to was full of drunk sports fans — my least favorite type of drunks. (And no, I don’t even hate the Pirates.)
• they were co-headlining with All Time Low, so there were HORDES of scene kids wrapped entirely around the building, waiting to get in. PTV can sell-out their own shows, but All Time Low has a massive following, so this really made it more of a mob scene than usual and Henry was all, “OH HELL NO I AIN’T STANDING IN THAT.”

I was so angry that I had a momentary rage-out on the sidewalk across from Stage AE where I declared, “WE SHOULD JUST SELL THESE TICKETS BECAUSE I AM SO PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW!” and then I proceeded to lament the days where I could go watch PTV play at a fucking skate park with 100 other kids and no one fucked with me and I didn’t have to stand in a line. Henry’s eyes lit up — that motherfucker would have had no problem scalping those tickets and then I’d have had to scalp HIM.  So I quickly changed my tune and protectively patted the tickets in my purse.

We roamed around for about 45 minutes before finally snagging seats at the cigar bar inside Pittsburgh Sports Bar (what an inventive name).  It ended up being super awesome though because some other (slightly) elder PTV fans were in there killing time, too (I think I called them my brethren and Henry made fun of me), and our bartender was awesome and let me gush about how much I love PTV.

Yes, I realize she was just doing her job, but hello — it was nice to gush about it without getting a patronizing smirk in response!

I know you’re thinking that the main point of this post is the actual concert but you are wrong.

It was around 7PM and the line into the venue had dwindled down to a bare minimum so we paid our tab and went outside. We reached the crosswalk at the same time as two scene girls also en route to the show, but traffic was NOT halting for us. I stood closer to the two girls because that is usually what I do when in a crowd so people don’t immediately think I’m there with my father.  The three of us kept gingerly toeing the street and then fearfully jumping back on the curb when it became clear that the cars were not going to brake for us even though we had the right of way.

Finally, Henry threw his hands up in  the air  and, with a  “Fuck this” he stepped RIGHT INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC and made those motherfuckers stop for him. Literally, moving vehicles came screeching to a halt just because some asshole in a blue flannel had the audacity to step out in front of them like motherfucking Moses.

“HOL-Y SHIT!” one of the scene girls cried as we scrambled to catch up to him before the cars started moving again. “THAT MAN IS HARDCORE!”

“LOOK AT THAT GUY! ZERO FUCKS GIVEN!” the other girl yelled in awe.

“THAT MAN DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK! HE JUST WALKED RIGHT IN FRONT OF THOSE CARS!”

You guys. This was Henry they were talking about. MY Henry. I fucking lost it and almost peed my pants right in the middle of the crosswalk.

I mean, it still wasn’t enough for me to publicly hold his hand, but it was pretty fucking hilarious to hear these young girls gush about his supposed bravery. He was so close to becoming an Internet meme.

That was definitely the greatest one minute of Henry’s life. Or would have been, if he had any idea this was going on behind him.

————

And here are some photos from the show, yay!

You Me At Six is from England and SO FUCKING HOT. That is all. I pointed out that the singer reminded me of some guy I know in real life that I have a crush on and Henry said, “Yeah but [blah blah] doesn’t have a British accent.”

“He doesn’t need to!” I snapped. God, you’d think Henry would have figured out my crush-criteria by now.

Henry actually loves PTV shows.

No one got on my nerves. Well, there was this one instance where some mom in front of me kept yammering on about how she was the best mom ever for bringing her teenage daughter, and I was like, “OMFG WE GET IT, GO GET ANOTHER DOLPHIN TATTOO” and then finally her daughter looked at her and said, “SHHHHH. VIC’S SINGING!” Yeah, fuck you, Mom! God, it was during an acoustic song, even.

What a fucking dummy.

It was winter-temps and I did not wear socks with my TOMS, but I had legwarmers on at least. (Did not help.)

Yawning during Mayday Parade, who covered that horrid Gotye song but actually made it sound good, and then VIC CAME OUT AND SANG THE KIMBRA PART so I was super happy — I would listen to THAT version, anyday. Thank you.

When the Pierce the Veil banner dropped, I squealed along with all of the other kids. Henry did too but his was a little bit sarcastic, I guess.

Um, I won’t go into detail because it’s the same as always and you don’t want to read the pages of my teenager diary anyway, but: Pierce the Veil came out, they played, I cried. Thank god for night’s like these.

Today I am sharing two of my favorite Pierce the Veil songs because they are wonderful and maybe you will like them too. (Also because we just saw them for the fourth time in less than a year on Saturday and they just never fail to make my heart swell. You can ask Henry. I always turn around and yell in his ear, “THEY MAKE MY HEART SWELL!” So he is an expert on this.)

I get so lost in this song every time. Vic has said that he wrote this song for his parents, who are always financially struggling no matter how hard his dad works. It just makes me think of Henry, of how hard he has worked to keep our family OK and to make sure we have a roof over our heads. We’ve been through so much together over the last 12 years and I might rag on him constantly on the Internet, but the truth is, he has sacrificed so much for me and I would pretty much follow him anywhere because I am permanently his.

If I had to pick one favorite PTV song, it’s this one. Everything about it is so multi-dimensional – the lyrics, the music, the emotions it brings up in me. I heard them play this live for the first time last November and I swear I held my breath through the whole thing and then gushed to Henry for days on end, “I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY PLAED BESITOS. WE GOT TO HEAR THEM PLAY BESITOS!” It’s hard to explain why it makes me feel the way it does, because the lyrics are so cryptic and kind of obtuse, but I will just say that it makes me think of someone for whom I have vacillating feelings of fondness and hatred. The line “You know I’ve never held a gun in my life, but now I carry one around in case I see you tonight” makes me fucking rage out internally every time I hear it.

And then by the end of the song, I feel a little bit of inner peace. It’s a very confusing 4 minutes.

——-
I spent so much of my life turning to music to help me thru bad times and even though I am an adult now with a great support system, music still helps me heal. Maybe we don’t like the same music, but if you can relate to that, isn’t that really all that matters? Music saves.

The line to get into the Chameleon Club was pretty massive, wrapping down and around the block,  this undulating  horde of scene kids staring at the old people who had the poor sense to bring their six-year-0ld to a Pierce the Veil show.

Chooch got a few shout outs for wearing a Chiodos shirt though.

“All these other people are wearing Pierce the Veil shirts and I’m wearing Chiodos!” he whined when we claimed our spot at the caboose of the scene kid train. I considered giving him the “Don’t wear the band’s shirt to their show” seminar, but figured I already control enough of his life.

So instead, I explained, “Well, that’s just because you don’t have a Pierce the Veil shirt yet” and then quickly used this as incentive to get him to stop being a dickhead in line.

And I guess when I say “dickhead,” what I actually mean is six-year-old. Of COURSE a six-year-old is going to go nuts standing in line for an hour! Especially when there are masses of teenaged girls paying attention to him.

Henry seemed relatively amiable and tempered, I’m assuming because there were other parents in line so he didn’t feel quite as pedophilic as usual.

After barely moving for 30 minutes, some of the Chameleon Club staff came out and tried create some sort of order to the situation, so they separated us into will call and TicketFly lines. This meant that every time our line moved forward, we would pass new people who hadn’t yet giggled and said “Aww!” when they saw Chooch. Thanks guys, for rewinding his asshole key.

The only way I could get him to calm down and stop moving was to ask him questions about that dumb Minecraft game that he plays. Six-year-old Chooch was shelved and suddenly I was talking to this new person, this little grown-up in my kid’s body. He is INTENSE about Minecraft and speaks extremely matter-of-factly about it. He paid no attention to any of the girls around him.

Wow. I just pictured his future and it looks dark. I guess that’s because he’s going to be LIVING IN MY BASEMENT.

The show was supposed to start at 7, but I’m pretty sure we were still standing outside by then. I don’t know if they were having problems or what, but it gave me way too much idle time to have a million doubts and second thoughts about bringing Chooch to a post-hardcore show.

Perhaps the person who called Child Services on us last year was on to something.

I kept scanning the crowd, looking for some other retarded, negligent mom who brought her innocent youth to the show, but Chooch was BY FAR the youngest kid there.

Of course he was. No one else is that stupid!

“Do you think this was a mistake?” I asked Henry as the lines finally started moving with purpose. Henry just frowned at me and then there we were, inside the Chameleon Club, throbbing bass drowning out Chooch’s Minecraft monologue. The transition from Quiet Outside to Loud Pandemonium didn’t even faze him. He just kept right on talking, mindlessly handing over his ticket to be scanned while explaining all of the Minecraft weapons to me.

At the top of the first flight of steps, a club staff member encouraged us to keep climbing the steps to the two balconies, because Chooch would supposedly be able to see no matter where he stood up there. Which would be true if Chooch was a six-foot-tall man. But as it turned out, every space in front of the balcony was already claimed and those teenagers don’t give a fuck about no six-year-old kid, that’s for sure. Not a single asshole would budge.

We decided that the main floor would be best, and to be honest — being on a balcony with Chooch is not really the best idea for a hyper-protective mom like me. Besides, we found a prime spot near the back, next to a wall that had a small ledge on it that was perfect for Chooch’s butt. The club was pretty small, so even though we were in the back, we weren’t very far from the stage. Even I could see perfectly, and I’m pretty short.

NOTE TO THE AUTHORITIES: WE PROVIDED EAR PLUGS FOR CHOOCH AND MADE SURE HE KEPT THEM IN DURING EVERY BAND. WE ARE NOT IDIOTS.

When the house music faded out and the first band — Issues — came out, Chooch became hyper-alert. It was a true make-or-break moment — this kid was either going to fucking FEEL it or he was going to be struck with aural fear. Henry hoisted him up on the little ledge thing and, without being prompted, Chooch started throwing his arms up in the air and he was SO INTO IT, you guys, I wanted to fucking DIE.  I felt like I had waited my whole life for that moment.

Chooch placed a hand on his chest and laughed.

“Do you feel the bass?” I yelled over the music.

“Yes!” he shouted and laughed again.

This was Chooch’s face after Tyler Carter from Issues called everyone motherfuckers.

[Interestingly, Jonny Craig and Tyler Carter were having a feud awhile back. Jonny’s twitter handle ends in “4L” and then Tyler made his twitter handle end in that too, so Jonny was all, “TAKE THE 4L OUT OF YOUR NAME, WAHHHH!” And then Tyler had all of these cryptic-but-not-cryptic tweets about losing all respect for his idol, which was actually pretty awesome.  But I guess they’re friends again because Jonny recently posted a picture with him on Instagram. Maybe I should host my own Scene Kid News Hour since it’s the only real news I know.]

At one point, Chooch booted me in the back.

“CLAP, MOMMY!” he screamed, after one of the songs ended and he noticed I wasn’t clapping. I started to tell him I wasn’t clapping because I didn’t care too much about this band, but instead  I just sighed and joined in the applause.  Chooch seemed satisifed about that.

LOOK AT HIM WITH HIS ARM UP, OH MY GOD!

After the Issues set ended, the concert version of  the “Are we there yet” game commenced (“When’s Pierce the Veil coming out!?”), so Henry stuffed a slice of pizza into Chooch’s mouth. I’ve never seen that kid devour any sort of non-ice cream food so fast before. All that raging during Issues made him hungry, I guess.

I kept his mind focused in between sets by allowing him to continue the Minecraft conversation. He was talking about some of the Minecraft videos he watches and mentioned something about someone’s roommate.

“Do you have a roommate?” I asked. (He only plays the Pocket Edition on his Kindle so he’s not actually playing online with other strangers.)

“Oh yes!” he answered excitedly. “It’s a pig. His name is Gilbert.”

Some guy in his early 20s stopped next to us and looked at Chooch thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke. “You’re awesome,” he said, offering his knuckles to Chooch, who bumped them back with his own fist. Chooch looked at me after the guy walked away and kind of laughed, as if to say, “What a fucking weener, of COURSE I’m awesome.”

Chooch disliked the next two bands (letlive.* apparently made his stomach hurt and Memphis May Fire wasn’t Pierce the Veil so he hated them) so I let him play on my phone. By the time MMF was over, he was starting to unravel. It was past 10PM and he had a long day being in the car with his asshole parents, so I couldn’t really blame him.

“Just try to make it a little bit longer and I’ll play air hockey with you when we get back to the hotel,” I promised, figuring he would be too tired by then anyway.

But when the lights went out and everyone started screaming, “PIERCE THE VEIL!”, Chooch was suddenly very alert. Henry put him back on the ledge and he sat there, clutching his Vic Fuentes doll, looking so expectant and excited.

I wish I had a picture of his face when PTV came out onto the stage, but I was so very much in the moment that fucking around with my phone was the last thing I was thinking of. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have a picture because I know I’ll never forget that look on his face — his smile was so big and he started laughing and waving his Vic doll in the air.

Chooch, in total awe. And speechless! When does THAT ever happen?

“I really like the drummer!” he shouted, so now of course he wants to take drum lessons and I am more than happy to oblige.

A few songs in, some kid pushed through the crowd, his 1998 candy raver girlfriend unconscious and draped over his arms. “Move!” he yelled, parting the people next to us.

Chooch took all of this in, then turned to me and said dryly,” She’s dead. She saw Vic and she died.” And then he focused his attention back on the stage. I wish I had that kid’s comedic timing.

Henry ended up taking him out to the car during the fourth song. It was almost 11 by then and he could barely keep his eyes open. They stopped by the merch table for a shirt and the merch guy gave Chooch a free poster for being his youngest customer.

I wasn’t there for that though because hello — I wasn’t leaving the Pierce the Veil show! I stayed there ’til the end. And then cried.

—————————————-

This will be my favorite picture of him for a long time, I can already tell.

Post-Show Shenanigans

We decided not to stick around and try to meet the band. It was almost midnight, cold and who knows what kind of area that place is at night — Amish juveniles might rage in the street with their pitchforks and torches, holes pre-cut in rape-ready bed sheets. Chooch had had enough excitement anyway, so maybe next time he can scratch “groupie” off his Underage Bucket List.

Chooch’s second wind kicked in when we got back to the hotel and I honored my promise of air hockey. However, when I was trying to get change out of the change machine, some older man and his grandson (?) hijacked the table, so Chooch ended up playing air hockey with some little foreign child and it was utterly awkward for me because the old guy and some broad who was presumably that kid’s mom just up and walked away, leaving me to supervise while they went off to play pool.  So fucking weird!

But then Chooch and I got to play while that kid stood to the side, trying to capture the puck. I had visions of me screaming, “HE WASN’T MY RESPONSIBILITY!” as the paramedics wrapped his broken fingers. Stupid idiot kid.

This entire situation left Chooch and I somewhere near an 87 on the Giddy Meter, so after our game, we tore off through the halls of the hotel, laughing and carrying on like children (which I guess is understandable in Chooch’s case). But then Henry happened to pass us in the hallway, on his way back from complaining about a clogged toilet to the front desk (maybe Of Monsters & Men can write a shitty song about THAT little talk), and totally put his foot into the asshole of our late night hotel antics.

“Get back to the room! SHUT UP!” he hissed, guiding us down to the room the Ramada had relocated us to. Apparently, we had to swap a working heater for a working toilet. But after the night I had, I could have been relegated to a hobo tent and would have still fallen asleep happy.

OK, that’s probably a total lie. But still — a chilly room was a small price to pay for the memories I got to make with Chooch at the Chameleon Club. My heart could not have felt any more swollen that night, I swear to god. Finally, both of my loves had converged inside of this little club in Lancaster. It was hard to justify complaining about a chilly room after that.

The “I’d Rather Be Doing Anything Else But Driving to Lancaster to see Pierce the Veil” frown.

I’m sure he’ll be fine once he gets to drink flat Amish root beer.

In other PTV news, Chooch drew this for Vic. He said he’s going to write “Vic, you’re the best singer” on it & I almost cried a little. <3

Even on the days when I hate Henry with the burning passion of a million Snooki’s kookas, I can listen to this song and all of a sudden it is 2001 and I’m falling in love with his dumb ass all over again. Ugh. I used to listen to this album all of the time when I was with the Boyfriend Before Henry, and while I always loved this song the best, but it never meant anything until I met Henry.

Too bad we will never get TO DANCE TO IT AT OUR WEDDING. It’s OK. I’m getting used to the idea of being the pedestrian Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell of Pittsburgh, PA.

(Henry said they broke up, but I swear I just saw a picture of them in US Weekly, swimming with dolphins. The closest thing to swimming with dolphins I’d ever get from Henry would probably be wading furiously amongst dead Yinzers, syringes and car parts in one of our crappy rivers. You know, because Henry spoils me so.)

This. All weekend.

Paramore always makes me feel sad, but hopeful.