Reader Submitted Content: PiL Concert Review

Dear HDD,
My therapist says that writing might help. Well I don't really know how to explain these feelings I've been having lately, so I thought I'd write a review of a concert I went to last weekend instead.

CJ Foeckler(stolen from the Onion)

Public Image Limited, Pabst Theater, Milwaukee, WI, 4/30/10.

So there I was with unexpected tears rolling down my face, standing in front of my childhood hero, and saying to myself well, now my life is complete. I was in the orchestra pit at the Pabst Theater in Milwaukee, WI. John Lydon had just taken the stage with Public Image Ltd. On the interior, teenage me was freaking out: snarling, pogo dancing and spitting at Johnny Rotten and the rest of the Sex Pistols. On the exterior, thirty something me was smiling wide and constantly wiping away the tears (which had now become near uncontrollable) in between large gulps of beer.

I was happy.

For the twenty some minutes previous to this moment, I had been sitting by myself surveying my surroundings. Silver haired, pot bellied men, many years my senior, wearing cargo shorts and Tommy Bahama button-ups, insistently checking their watches, and milking that one beer. The only beer they were going to have this evening. They looked so miserable; I wondered why they even came. Curiosity…or obligation; an obligation to a person they once were, maybe? Then there were the others: older, former scenesters. Punks, mods, and skinheads; sporting Doc Marten’s and fishtail parkas that looked like they hadn’t been worn in years, slamming drinks at a rapid pace. Thinking about a future, which for some reason I felt was represented by either of these groups of men, was making me depressed.

My mind began to wander and I thought of the time earlier in the day when I had been introduced to an acquaintances’ 10 year-old child; and the silence that followed because the giant fucking elephant in the room was that the 10 year-old and I were dressed—aside from baseball caps (hers- a Brewers, and mine-a Twins) and the color schemes of our respective flannels—exactly the same. Paranoia started to sink in and my heart started beating faster and my left arm started feeling numb.

Then Johnny came on and everything was alright. He winked at my smiling, teary face and I tipped my beer to him. A tender moment shared between icon and fan boy.

So there I was, my heart beating about a million times a minute, and saying to myself well, I hope my life is not complete. I was lying on a couch, well past 2am and after several beers, in a living room in Milwaukee, WI. I had just decided to call it a weekend when the paranoia set in again.

For twenty some minutes previous to this moment I could hear the two women in the dining room a few feet away. They were arguing about whom had the worst weekend or something. My left arm started to go numb. And then my heart beats even faster. I tried telling myself it was because I slept on a couch the last two nights and pinched a nerve and I was only psyching myself out; that I was panicking for no reason. But part of me knew this was it. For the last two days, I’d been drinking beer and eating meatloaf and brats and fried fish, and my heart was giving up as a result. This was the moment my doctor warned me about. Thinking about not having a future—just like Johnny sang all those years ago, “no future for you”—was making me depressed.

My mind began to wonder and I thought of the day before and the elephant in the room and the 10 year-old that I dress like and how it can’t end now because I need to be that girl’s childhood hero and how I want to have a future and how I’ll take the feather tail coat over the cargo shorts and about how I cried at the beginning of the PiL concert and the wink from John and just how great the PiL concert was.

And then everything slowed down and I fell asleep.

When I woke up I was happy again.



  1. yea but how was the concert?

  2. this is some funny rap musicMay 5, 2010 at 3:55 PM

    this makes me cry but not in a bad way. good lookin' out kid.


  4. What we are dealing with here is a classic case of misguided hero worship and emotional confusion. Probably brought on by years of closeting your absentee father issues. It's unfortunate but your tears at the concert were not that of happiness but rather lonliness.

    Also, I think you may be suffering from a mild form of escapist schizophrenia. You've created and are romaticizing world in which you never actually lived.

  5. And here I thought the schitzo part was just him writing under several different pen names.

  6. this is some funny rap musicMay 5, 2010 at 4:34 PM

    @Therapist and Kenny G.
    lay off. this is some good shit.

  7. @the-rapist

    thanks. where do i send the bill?

  8. too long, didn't read

  9. I'd like to hear more from this chap. ;)

  10. get your own blog pussy.

  11. I had similar problems a few years ago. Out of nowhere I'd get all freaked out and think I was having a heart attack because my left arm was tingly. Finally after an incident that took place while driving I decided to go to the doctor. Turns out it was panic attacks. I would bet you're suffering from the same. I don't know if you were joking about having a therapist or not but it might not be a bad idea. Sometimes there is just some yucky stuff that lives in our brains and it needs to come out. Good luck!

  12. Hm, was that the same p.i.l. concert the "h.d.d. staff". went to in Milwaukee last weekend? Some of you are not getting it. It's not that difficult to figure out is it? Girl above me should get her own blog already b.t.w.

  13. Im with ^DUH!, Nathan is a member of the HDD staff. This isn't the first time he's posted on here.

  14. You're getting older, that's all. The teflon 20's are behind you.

  15. @Magnum

    Remove "a member of" from your findings and you've pretty much nailed it.