About four years ago, I told my mom that I was going to marry Marissa. She was ecstatic, of course, but I always wondered if in the back of her mind she was a little disappointed that Marissa wasn't Jewish. When I told Marissa's mom, it was the same genuine reaction, but again, I was hesitant because Marissa was raised Catholic and was marrying a (gulp) Jew.
It turns out, neither of our mothers really seemed to care. Maybe the only person who cared was me. But I didn't even care, at least not about Marissa's religious choices. I was concerned about how we would work holidays with our families and eventually how we would raise our kids. Yes, even back then, it's something that weighs on your mind.
The holidays have seemed to be a blessing in disguise, because we've been able to celebrate all the Christian holidays with her family, while spending the Jewish holidays with mine. The only issue I find is that the Jewish holidays aren't very exciting (woo hoo, Passover, can you pass the matzos; woo hoo, Yom Kippur, can you pass the...fasting?), while the Christian holidays are rife with indoor trees stocked with presents and giant rabbits with hidden eggs frolicking with Cheshire cats and Mad men in Hats. They're fun. They're engaging. They are everything Jewish holiday's aren't. So to be fair, I've gotten some of the "American" holidays, like Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and of course, Super Bowl Sunday.
Thinking about religion for our child, however, has yet to be an issue. Well, we've got about six months to figure that sucker out, because it's not like we can decide too much after the fact. If it's a boy - which only seven percent of you think it will be - we have eight days to set up a bris. Once you have a bris, the decision is pretty much made, isn't it? Unless of course, we do my idea and invite everyone to our son's "Brisening", as little snip here, a little dunk there, and let's have lunch. I'm telling you, it's the future of interfaith baby naming ceremonies. Get in while you can.
Seriously, though, I'm not sure what we're going to do, and frankly, I'm not sure I want my kid following any organized religion. The more I look around, the less it's about the 'religion' and the more it's become about the 'organized' part. The Catholic Church is one of the largest corporations in the world. The Church is about making money, and their product is God. The more they sell their version of God, the more money they get. Judaism is no different, mind you. Judaism is like Apple Computers. We may have only five percent of the market share, but it's a strong five percent, and we're organized and profitable just the same. You don't agree? Wait until next year when they start pushing the iPod you can wear like a yarmulka (note: I was going to go 'iPod Kippah' here, but I wasn't sure who'd get that reference, other than maybe my dad, and Schefflin).
Religion isn't about the scriptures anymore. It's not about teaching the word of God. Religion, from where I kneel, is about pot luck dinners and singles mixers and who is wearing what to services, most importantly, passing the collection plate. The teachings are a subcontext now, because these organizations know it's too hard to recruit people based solely, or even remotely, on their beliefs. Religion isn't about religion. It's about finding a place where you belong. It's about community. It's about being a part of something you can't find anywhere else in your life.
That's why I got into punk music.
In high school, years after my bar mitzvah (and the awkward conversation with one of our rabbis where he virtually pinned me against the wall until I told him that my parents were pressuring me to quit after my bar mitzvah so he could then pressure them into keeping me around for a few more years so he could keep milking the kosher cash cow) I was looking for a place to fit in. All of my friends were. We were the smart kids. We hated jocks. We hated authority. We needed something to believe in.
During my late teens and into my twenties, punk music defined me. I wore band shirts like a badge of honor. I had a wallet chain and dyed hair to show people that I wasn't afraid to stand out. See, we didn't stand out with each other. Go to a punk or hardcore show back then and everyone looked just like you. We were angst-ridden young adults who needed a place to feel true emotions without being admonished for speaking our minds and sharing our beliefs.
My friends and I would travel the east coast following our favorite bands. I've seen shows in more bars, clubs, restaurant back rooms, VFW halls, high school cafeterias, warehouses, basements, and yes, churches than I can remember. Our temples weren't lavish cathedrals with stained glass. They were dark, dank places where the rental fee was cheap enough to keep the cover charge only five bucks for four bands. Our preachers were ever-changing. We listened to sermons from whatever band was in town that weekend. And there was always someone to see. It's wasn't about the money for these bands, it was about sharing their songs with us and making new fans - and new friends - in the process. Standing with hundreds of other kids just like you (sometimes even less than that), singing your collective heart out with your favorite bands was both liberating and defining at the same time. We took these songs and preached their teachings in our daily lives. I still remember my Senior quote in my yearbook, from an Avail song I probably haven't heard in almost 10 years:
I've seen familiar faces.
Far from those I knew so well.
Couldn't think of much to say.
Didn't know how I felt.
So I put them behind me, and I let 'em go.
They didn't look like they did.
They didn't feel like they should...
I may be a word or two off, but the message of that passage I will never forget. The passage I chose to have my brother read when Marissa and I got married was a Down By Law song called Best Friends that was on a mix tape I gave her after we had broken up. The same Hot Water Music CD has been in my alarm clock for over five years. I recently put a lot of my old albums on my iTunes because I felt I was becoming someone I didn't like. I needed to become grounded again. I needed to get that passion back in my work. Remembering old times and thinking of old friends while at my desk has really helped.
I just got a DVD from Jeff of Gameface of the greatest show of my generation. I may have been to better shows (although most likely not) but this show was the most important show in my life. It validated my existence on this planet, and I have remembered it fondly every time I think of it. 1996. First Unitarian Church. The day before our senior class trip. Texas is the Reason, Gameface and Lifetime put on the best show of my life, and I was surrounded by all my friends. And now I can watch it whenever I want. The only thing that could have made it better was if The Promise Ring, who was scheduled to open, hadn't broken down on the way to the show. At the time, nobody knew who they were, so we didn't really mind. Looking back, and having seen TPR over 30 times in my life after that night, it makes the story of that show even better.
I could tell stories for months. I've forgotten more shows than I could ever remember. But the one thing I'll never forget is that sense of community - of belonging to something. That's what I want to pass on to my kid. And that's why I'm putting down my Ten Commandments of Punk.
I. Thou Shalt Do it Yourself
DIY - Do It Yourself - is maybe one of the most resounding mantras of this subculture. I remember going to shows where bands would hand design each cover of their records, so as not to have a mass-produced, corporate feel. So many people in this country are inclined to hire someone to build, design, photograph or paint something for them because it's easier than doing it yourself. Now, there's something to be said for a skilled craftsman doing a job instead of an unskilled schlub like me just so I can say I did it myself. But if I can do it, I try to. Especially when it comes to something creative or artistic. If it were up to me, I'd never buy another greeting card again. I'll never buy another invitation again either because I can design one myself. Hell, I designed, printed and hand cut each of our wedding invitations, so we could save money and give our family and friends something personal. I'll never hire someone to take our family portraits. Olan Mills ain't got nothing on me! Through these bands, and other zine producing scenesters like me and my friends, I was taught to take pride both the effort, and results, in doing things yourself.
II. Thou Shalt Question Authority
Just because someone is older than you, doesn't mean they are more prepared to make a decision. Youth is a four letter word in this country. I know because I started in my office at age 19 and was full time by age 21. In many ways, I'm still treated like a kid by my superiors. I've learned, on a small scale, that bad workers tend to hire bad workers. Therefore, just because someone has "Manager" or "Supervisor" on top of his nametag, it doesn't always mean his decisions are the right ones. It's okay to question other people's decisions. If people didn't question authority, George Bush would still be sending troops into this war we......oh...wait.
That's the point - question everyone. Question every decision that impacts your life, even if you agree with it. Make people explain their reasons for doing things. Don't just take what people in positions of authority try to spoon feed you as right. If you think you're right on something, make sure other people know it. Healthy debate is the key to making things better in this country.
III. Thou Shalt Not Sell Out
This one may have been the most important ideal when we were growing up. Bands that "sold out" to major record labels were shunned and looked down upon. It wasn't supposed to be about the money, rather, it was about sharing ideas and beliefs and art with people just like you. When bands sold out, they were telling us that they weren't just like us, and it WAS about the money.
You need money to live. But don't sell your soul to get it. I've talked with hundreds of people over the last five years as to why I'm still at my job. Right now, I don't know the answer, but in the past it was because I wasn't going to sell out for some corporate job doing static reports with no creativity. I liked the work I was doing, and until I found a job that had a role that I could express myself to the same extent, I was staying put. I won't be a paper pusher. I won't be a corporate pawn. Too many people go through life not caring about the work they do. Forget about your actual job - do you like the work you do? That is the important thing, no matter what you actually do. I create things. Sometimes when work sets up road blocks, I find other outlets - like this site - to express myself. But I'll always be who I am.
IV. Thou Shalt Not Play an Encore
Chad gave me this one. He says he hates bands that play encores. It's self-indulgent. It makes the show all about them, and even when the punk shows WERE all about the bands, they didn't want the credit. Punk bands couldn't play shows if punk kids weren't showing up. They understood the importance of our community, and respected us as equals for being there. Some bands didn't like playing on stages, because they felt disconnected with the fans. Hot Water Music rarely used microphones. Bands wanted to be part of the show, not the whole show.
I guess this translates to the real world in the fact that people need to stay grounded and understand where they came from. Each of us has a network of support, and no matter how big and important you get, you're always going to need that core group to keep you going. We may be better at doing something than the guy next to us, but that doesn't mean we have more rights than them. Everyone is equal, and we should all remember that.
V. Thou Shalt Not Gouge
Why charge $100 when it costs you $5 to make a shirt? Some things are not just about turning a profit.
It used to cost five bucks to get into a show. CDs cost either five or ten, depending on the number of songs. It was fair market pricing, direct from the people who produced it. By charging less, fans are able to buy more, and therefore get a better cross-section of material to help spread the word of the subculture in different ways. My friends and I would come up with shirts, stickers and two CDs each, and pay less than $25 for the night.
I recently made shirts for charity. I charged 9.99 because it cost me 8.99 (you can order them at my online store! . It's only one dollar for charity, but I was able to keep the price down and sell hundreds of shirts for people. Had I charged 14.99, I may have only sold a few shirts because people may not want to spend that much on my products. While donating a potential five dollars more per shirt, I was pricing myself out of the market, and would have sold much less than I did. End result: less money donated. Because I kept the prices low, more people were able to spread the word of the shirts. I continued to sell more and more because of word of mouth. And everyone was happy.
Also, sometimes it's not about getting rich quick. Everyone has these get rich schemes (...by placing TINY classified ads...) but we were taught that there's more to life than money and fame. This is one lesson I've kept with me, so I'm able to look myself in the mirror without seeing a used car salesman staring back.
VI. Thou Shalt Trust Your Neighbor
Have you ever crowd surfed or stage dived or been in a circle pit? Nothing is more exhilarating than jumping off a stage or starting a human tornado. Trust me, I've been kicked in the head more times than I'd like to recall, but I always caught the person and tried to hold them up. I was never much of a stage diver, myself. I guess because I knew how hard it was to keep the people up. But I always trusted that we'd do it. (Well, except that one time at the Troc...)
The shows we went to were packed to the gills (fire codes be damned) and you had to trust that the person next to you was going to be respectful of your space as well. We were all there for the same reason - to enjoy the show. It was a great sense of community knowing that people were by and large respectful of one another. Sure, I ate a guy's mohawk one time. Sure, I've been pinned (and have pinned people) up against the stage. Sure, some people are maniacs in a circle pit. John Masino lost a tooth at one show (and stayed the entire day!). Punk kids are like elephants - some of them are just jerks. But by and large, we knew we could trust the person next to us. If someone dropped their glasses, and immediate circle formed until the person found them. If you needed a ride home because you got ditched in the city, there's always someone who will let you pile into their car to get you home.
Trust your neighbor, and they will trust in you.
VII. Thou Shalt Organize
I know, I know. I hate organized religion. But what I mean here is that putting out a unified message of hope and understanding at each show helped solidify a youth movement. There were subcultures within our subculture - emo pop kids, hardcore straight edge kids, and everyone in between. We knew when we went to a show what the other kids would be like. It wasn't the same going to see Joan of Arc as it was going to see Snapcase, and we knew that. But ultimately, the message was the same. Be yourself, enjoy what you do, and spread the word to people you feel will understand it.
Until punk got really big, people wanted to fight us for being different. Now, they all have dyed hair and wallet chains and wear t-shirts eight sizes too small. Back then, they would be coming after us with pitchforks and torches. We needed to know who had our backs. We needed to know where we could go to be a part of something. Organization can be a good thing.
VIII. Thou Shalt Believe What you Want
This is pretty self-explanatory. It's not freedom of speech. It's knowing that it's okay to think what you want, even if you're the only one. We were preached too, but we weren't asked to blindly accept the sermons. Take what you want from it, and believe what you believe in. That might be the most important lesson I ever learned.
IX. Thou Shalt Find Your Voice
During the DVD, both Jeff and Ari (from Lifetime) put the mic out into the crowd and all you hear is a group of kids screaming as loud as they could - largely off key. During one song, at least 200 kids in the crowd are SCREAMING the line, "and I just sat and cried!" Where else can you get hundreds of sweaty young adults - mostly men - to scream a line like that. But you know what, to this day, the lyrics of that song may mean more to me than any other. Because I had sat and cried, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. In fact, Jeff lent me the acoustic guitar part of that song (Friday Matinee) to use for the video Marissa and I made before the wedding (which will hopefully be posted up here soon).
Finding your voice can be in anything you do. Express yourself with your work and make a difference. I put myself into my work, and try to make something that nobody else would do. I want you to know when you see my work. I want you to know when you read what I write. I'm not going to back down from anyone, and I'm not going to let anyone stifle my voice. Neither will my child.
X. Thou Shalt Rock
You can't have punk without rock, right? This last commandment is meant to have fun with life. Let loose. Rock out. Enjoy things and don't worry about the things you can't control.
Sometimes it's good to just close your eyes and scream. If there happens to be music on, all the better.
Obviously, these commandments aren't just mine - thanks to Tim, Chad and John for sending me their thoughts. I'd be interested to see what the rest of you see as commandments. Feel free to post what you think. After all, that's the point, isn't it - sharing ideas to make this place better for future generations.
It turns out, neither of our mothers really seemed to care. Maybe the only person who cared was me. But I didn't even care, at least not about Marissa's religious choices. I was concerned about how we would work holidays with our families and eventually how we would raise our kids. Yes, even back then, it's something that weighs on your mind.
The holidays have seemed to be a blessing in disguise, because we've been able to celebrate all the Christian holidays with her family, while spending the Jewish holidays with mine. The only issue I find is that the Jewish holidays aren't very exciting (woo hoo, Passover, can you pass the matzos; woo hoo, Yom Kippur, can you pass the...fasting?), while the Christian holidays are rife with indoor trees stocked with presents and giant rabbits with hidden eggs frolicking with Cheshire cats and Mad men in Hats. They're fun. They're engaging. They are everything Jewish holiday's aren't. So to be fair, I've gotten some of the "American" holidays, like Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and of course, Super Bowl Sunday.
Thinking about religion for our child, however, has yet to be an issue. Well, we've got about six months to figure that sucker out, because it's not like we can decide too much after the fact. If it's a boy - which only seven percent of you think it will be - we have eight days to set up a bris. Once you have a bris, the decision is pretty much made, isn't it? Unless of course, we do my idea and invite everyone to our son's "Brisening", as little snip here, a little dunk there, and let's have lunch. I'm telling you, it's the future of interfaith baby naming ceremonies. Get in while you can.
Seriously, though, I'm not sure what we're going to do, and frankly, I'm not sure I want my kid following any organized religion. The more I look around, the less it's about the 'religion' and the more it's become about the 'organized' part. The Catholic Church is one of the largest corporations in the world. The Church is about making money, and their product is God. The more they sell their version of God, the more money they get. Judaism is no different, mind you. Judaism is like Apple Computers. We may have only five percent of the market share, but it's a strong five percent, and we're organized and profitable just the same. You don't agree? Wait until next year when they start pushing the iPod you can wear like a yarmulka (note: I was going to go 'iPod Kippah' here, but I wasn't sure who'd get that reference, other than maybe my dad, and Schefflin).
Religion isn't about the scriptures anymore. It's not about teaching the word of God. Religion, from where I kneel, is about pot luck dinners and singles mixers and who is wearing what to services, most importantly, passing the collection plate. The teachings are a subcontext now, because these organizations know it's too hard to recruit people based solely, or even remotely, on their beliefs. Religion isn't about religion. It's about finding a place where you belong. It's about community. It's about being a part of something you can't find anywhere else in your life.
That's why I got into punk music.
In high school, years after my bar mitzvah (and the awkward conversation with one of our rabbis where he virtually pinned me against the wall until I told him that my parents were pressuring me to quit after my bar mitzvah so he could then pressure them into keeping me around for a few more years so he could keep milking the kosher cash cow) I was looking for a place to fit in. All of my friends were. We were the smart kids. We hated jocks. We hated authority. We needed something to believe in.
During my late teens and into my twenties, punk music defined me. I wore band shirts like a badge of honor. I had a wallet chain and dyed hair to show people that I wasn't afraid to stand out. See, we didn't stand out with each other. Go to a punk or hardcore show back then and everyone looked just like you. We were angst-ridden young adults who needed a place to feel true emotions without being admonished for speaking our minds and sharing our beliefs.
My friends and I would travel the east coast following our favorite bands. I've seen shows in more bars, clubs, restaurant back rooms, VFW halls, high school cafeterias, warehouses, basements, and yes, churches than I can remember. Our temples weren't lavish cathedrals with stained glass. They were dark, dank places where the rental fee was cheap enough to keep the cover charge only five bucks for four bands. Our preachers were ever-changing. We listened to sermons from whatever band was in town that weekend. And there was always someone to see. It's wasn't about the money for these bands, it was about sharing their songs with us and making new fans - and new friends - in the process. Standing with hundreds of other kids just like you (sometimes even less than that), singing your collective heart out with your favorite bands was both liberating and defining at the same time. We took these songs and preached their teachings in our daily lives. I still remember my Senior quote in my yearbook, from an Avail song I probably haven't heard in almost 10 years:
I've seen familiar faces.
Far from those I knew so well.
Couldn't think of much to say.
Didn't know how I felt.
So I put them behind me, and I let 'em go.
They didn't look like they did.
They didn't feel like they should...
I may be a word or two off, but the message of that passage I will never forget. The passage I chose to have my brother read when Marissa and I got married was a Down By Law song called Best Friends that was on a mix tape I gave her after we had broken up. The same Hot Water Music CD has been in my alarm clock for over five years. I recently put a lot of my old albums on my iTunes because I felt I was becoming someone I didn't like. I needed to become grounded again. I needed to get that passion back in my work. Remembering old times and thinking of old friends while at my desk has really helped.
I just got a DVD from Jeff of Gameface of the greatest show of my generation. I may have been to better shows (although most likely not) but this show was the most important show in my life. It validated my existence on this planet, and I have remembered it fondly every time I think of it. 1996. First Unitarian Church. The day before our senior class trip. Texas is the Reason, Gameface and Lifetime put on the best show of my life, and I was surrounded by all my friends. And now I can watch it whenever I want. The only thing that could have made it better was if The Promise Ring, who was scheduled to open, hadn't broken down on the way to the show. At the time, nobody knew who they were, so we didn't really mind. Looking back, and having seen TPR over 30 times in my life after that night, it makes the story of that show even better.
I could tell stories for months. I've forgotten more shows than I could ever remember. But the one thing I'll never forget is that sense of community - of belonging to something. That's what I want to pass on to my kid. And that's why I'm putting down my Ten Commandments of Punk.
I. Thou Shalt Do it Yourself
DIY - Do It Yourself - is maybe one of the most resounding mantras of this subculture. I remember going to shows where bands would hand design each cover of their records, so as not to have a mass-produced, corporate feel. So many people in this country are inclined to hire someone to build, design, photograph or paint something for them because it's easier than doing it yourself. Now, there's something to be said for a skilled craftsman doing a job instead of an unskilled schlub like me just so I can say I did it myself. But if I can do it, I try to. Especially when it comes to something creative or artistic. If it were up to me, I'd never buy another greeting card again. I'll never buy another invitation again either because I can design one myself. Hell, I designed, printed and hand cut each of our wedding invitations, so we could save money and give our family and friends something personal. I'll never hire someone to take our family portraits. Olan Mills ain't got nothing on me! Through these bands, and other zine producing scenesters like me and my friends, I was taught to take pride both the effort, and results, in doing things yourself.
II. Thou Shalt Question Authority
Just because someone is older than you, doesn't mean they are more prepared to make a decision. Youth is a four letter word in this country. I know because I started in my office at age 19 and was full time by age 21. In many ways, I'm still treated like a kid by my superiors. I've learned, on a small scale, that bad workers tend to hire bad workers. Therefore, just because someone has "Manager" or "Supervisor" on top of his nametag, it doesn't always mean his decisions are the right ones. It's okay to question other people's decisions. If people didn't question authority, George Bush would still be sending troops into this war we......oh...wait.
That's the point - question everyone. Question every decision that impacts your life, even if you agree with it. Make people explain their reasons for doing things. Don't just take what people in positions of authority try to spoon feed you as right. If you think you're right on something, make sure other people know it. Healthy debate is the key to making things better in this country.
III. Thou Shalt Not Sell Out
This one may have been the most important ideal when we were growing up. Bands that "sold out" to major record labels were shunned and looked down upon. It wasn't supposed to be about the money, rather, it was about sharing ideas and beliefs and art with people just like you. When bands sold out, they were telling us that they weren't just like us, and it WAS about the money.
You need money to live. But don't sell your soul to get it. I've talked with hundreds of people over the last five years as to why I'm still at my job. Right now, I don't know the answer, but in the past it was because I wasn't going to sell out for some corporate job doing static reports with no creativity. I liked the work I was doing, and until I found a job that had a role that I could express myself to the same extent, I was staying put. I won't be a paper pusher. I won't be a corporate pawn. Too many people go through life not caring about the work they do. Forget about your actual job - do you like the work you do? That is the important thing, no matter what you actually do. I create things. Sometimes when work sets up road blocks, I find other outlets - like this site - to express myself. But I'll always be who I am.
IV. Thou Shalt Not Play an Encore
Chad gave me this one. He says he hates bands that play encores. It's self-indulgent. It makes the show all about them, and even when the punk shows WERE all about the bands, they didn't want the credit. Punk bands couldn't play shows if punk kids weren't showing up. They understood the importance of our community, and respected us as equals for being there. Some bands didn't like playing on stages, because they felt disconnected with the fans. Hot Water Music rarely used microphones. Bands wanted to be part of the show, not the whole show.
I guess this translates to the real world in the fact that people need to stay grounded and understand where they came from. Each of us has a network of support, and no matter how big and important you get, you're always going to need that core group to keep you going. We may be better at doing something than the guy next to us, but that doesn't mean we have more rights than them. Everyone is equal, and we should all remember that.
V. Thou Shalt Not Gouge
Why charge $100 when it costs you $5 to make a shirt? Some things are not just about turning a profit.
It used to cost five bucks to get into a show. CDs cost either five or ten, depending on the number of songs. It was fair market pricing, direct from the people who produced it. By charging less, fans are able to buy more, and therefore get a better cross-section of material to help spread the word of the subculture in different ways. My friends and I would come up with shirts, stickers and two CDs each, and pay less than $25 for the night.
I recently made shirts for charity. I charged 9.99 because it cost me 8.99 (you can order them at my online store! . It's only one dollar for charity, but I was able to keep the price down and sell hundreds of shirts for people. Had I charged 14.99, I may have only sold a few shirts because people may not want to spend that much on my products. While donating a potential five dollars more per shirt, I was pricing myself out of the market, and would have sold much less than I did. End result: less money donated. Because I kept the prices low, more people were able to spread the word of the shirts. I continued to sell more and more because of word of mouth. And everyone was happy.
Also, sometimes it's not about getting rich quick. Everyone has these get rich schemes (...by placing TINY classified ads...) but we were taught that there's more to life than money and fame. This is one lesson I've kept with me, so I'm able to look myself in the mirror without seeing a used car salesman staring back.
VI. Thou Shalt Trust Your Neighbor
Have you ever crowd surfed or stage dived or been in a circle pit? Nothing is more exhilarating than jumping off a stage or starting a human tornado. Trust me, I've been kicked in the head more times than I'd like to recall, but I always caught the person and tried to hold them up. I was never much of a stage diver, myself. I guess because I knew how hard it was to keep the people up. But I always trusted that we'd do it. (Well, except that one time at the Troc...)
The shows we went to were packed to the gills (fire codes be damned) and you had to trust that the person next to you was going to be respectful of your space as well. We were all there for the same reason - to enjoy the show. It was a great sense of community knowing that people were by and large respectful of one another. Sure, I ate a guy's mohawk one time. Sure, I've been pinned (and have pinned people) up against the stage. Sure, some people are maniacs in a circle pit. John Masino lost a tooth at one show (and stayed the entire day!). Punk kids are like elephants - some of them are just jerks. But by and large, we knew we could trust the person next to us. If someone dropped their glasses, and immediate circle formed until the person found them. If you needed a ride home because you got ditched in the city, there's always someone who will let you pile into their car to get you home.
Trust your neighbor, and they will trust in you.
VII. Thou Shalt Organize
I know, I know. I hate organized religion. But what I mean here is that putting out a unified message of hope and understanding at each show helped solidify a youth movement. There were subcultures within our subculture - emo pop kids, hardcore straight edge kids, and everyone in between. We knew when we went to a show what the other kids would be like. It wasn't the same going to see Joan of Arc as it was going to see Snapcase, and we knew that. But ultimately, the message was the same. Be yourself, enjoy what you do, and spread the word to people you feel will understand it.
Until punk got really big, people wanted to fight us for being different. Now, they all have dyed hair and wallet chains and wear t-shirts eight sizes too small. Back then, they would be coming after us with pitchforks and torches. We needed to know who had our backs. We needed to know where we could go to be a part of something. Organization can be a good thing.
VIII. Thou Shalt Believe What you Want
This is pretty self-explanatory. It's not freedom of speech. It's knowing that it's okay to think what you want, even if you're the only one. We were preached too, but we weren't asked to blindly accept the sermons. Take what you want from it, and believe what you believe in. That might be the most important lesson I ever learned.
IX. Thou Shalt Find Your Voice
During the DVD, both Jeff and Ari (from Lifetime) put the mic out into the crowd and all you hear is a group of kids screaming as loud as they could - largely off key. During one song, at least 200 kids in the crowd are SCREAMING the line, "and I just sat and cried!" Where else can you get hundreds of sweaty young adults - mostly men - to scream a line like that. But you know what, to this day, the lyrics of that song may mean more to me than any other. Because I had sat and cried, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. In fact, Jeff lent me the acoustic guitar part of that song (Friday Matinee) to use for the video Marissa and I made before the wedding (which will hopefully be posted up here soon).
Finding your voice can be in anything you do. Express yourself with your work and make a difference. I put myself into my work, and try to make something that nobody else would do. I want you to know when you see my work. I want you to know when you read what I write. I'm not going to back down from anyone, and I'm not going to let anyone stifle my voice. Neither will my child.
X. Thou Shalt Rock
You can't have punk without rock, right? This last commandment is meant to have fun with life. Let loose. Rock out. Enjoy things and don't worry about the things you can't control.
Sometimes it's good to just close your eyes and scream. If there happens to be music on, all the better.
Obviously, these commandments aren't just mine - thanks to Tim, Chad and John for sending me their thoughts. I'd be interested to see what the rest of you see as commandments. Feel free to post what you think. After all, that's the point, isn't it - sharing ideas to make this place better for future generations.
1 Comments:
Thanks for giving the ol' fake tooth a shout-out.
And i MUST see this dvd.
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