Killoggs : a better dating services than rotten.com.

There was a time when I was vehemently opposed to a purposefull lack of hydro-hygiene. As a young "punk" I railed time and time again against these "hippies." I wanted them to take a bath even if it meant down the barrel of a gun. Now, in my defense, there was not really alot of "punk rock" going on in my part of the metropolitan state of Mississippi. By and large the great unbathed masses I came accross on a daily bases were hacky sacking Phish followers, who always carried a bit of an odor of odd plants. The anger and total miss-guiding of my youth also, went in every direction.

However, as time went on, and I actually got to know more real people in the punk scene, I came increasingly in contact with folks who decreasingly came in contact with that "other" part of their bathrooms. Still and all, at this point (though I went through my fair share of dry spells in college, and let's not even bring up my clothes...) I was not fond of the permeating odor, I just was around it more often. To jump prematurely to the endpoint to come, for a momment , I specifically remember seeing Opperation Cliff Clavin a number of times, and always being struck by the sheer pungency or their aroma. However at the same time the more memorable part of them playing was simply that. We didn't get alot of touring bands in Hattiesburg, MS. Briefly, durring my sophomore year, a small place called the Mercury Lounge (which I think was purposely lifted from an existing venue) facilitated not only the occasional out of town group, but also the lifting away of a depression that had gripped me for nearly a semmester (fancy that!). When those few proud bands did come through I was always greatfull, if not in a bit of disbelief. For some reason, and not only because they helped get me into politics (so blame them!!), Opperation Cliff Clavin stuck out more than the rest.

Years later, I found out that they had called it quits, and even though I was very sad to hear this, I was excited to see all the other projects that plan-it-x was undertaking. At this point I was living from small theatre to small theatre. Working, playing, and sleeping with (well, sometimes I got lucky) small troups in rural areas. I didn't go to any shows, but I did get used to hard working people with no time to bathe. So, in a sense, that punk rock legacy lived on in spirit. There were many, MANY, bad times during this stretch. But ususally, long extending personal permeations wafted in the breeze at at the hard working pay offs. The hot days firing off power tools, paint brushes and wrenches, all for the greater good, in some fashion.

After moving to DC, I soon became disgruntled with the theatre scene, in general, and through some fortunate happenstances, I went back to my punk rock roots. Since then I have made several revelations, but one in particular was brought back to the forefront of my mind last Monday. I no longer find pungent body odor offensive. In fact, much more than that, I am, in an odd way, fond of the smell. In a very Pavlovian way, strong human scent was always given positive reinforcement in my life. These shows, these experiences, these people, have meant alot to me, and will forever hold a warm spot in my memory. The 27th was the DC stop for the Plan-it-X-Fest. It was great seeing Chris and Hanna (sp?) again, even though they don't really know who I am. Beyond seeing Ghost Mice, it was a blast to see people like Defiance, Ohio, and the This Bike is a Pipe bomb, super group replacement. And even people I was less familiar with like the Door Keys, and even One Reason from MISSISSIPPI (with the dirty dirty tats to prove it!). It was also cool seeing some DC natives like The Max Levine Ensemble join the ranks. It all came together when I was heavily enguaged in a crucial cirlce pit around Rosa. a band that plays with no electricity, who deicded to perform in the middle of the space. So, there I was, mashed between masses of dirty, stinking, bike punk......."hippies," and loving every second of it.