There are exactly two really, really funny bits in Robert Downey's countercultural western crucifixion musical, Greaser's Palace. One involves a donkey that does not want to be ridden. The other takes place when the zoot-suited Messiah at the center of the film's action says his magic words ("If you feel, you're healed!") and cures a paralyzed man... almost. The man throws away his crutches or such, takes two bold steps, shouts, "I can walk again," and falls over, whereupon he revises his diagnosis: "I can crawl again," he says, still grateful. And contentedly crawls away, so declaiming.
Well, folks - it turns out that I can mosh again, sorta. I don't know why. I'm still overweight, still possessed of the same heart and lungs that would feel like bursting if I got too enthusiastic in the pit, jus a few years ago. Suddenly, though - at the secret Bison BC gig the other week and then this past evening at the Rebel Spell - I've actually got a bit of energy and stamina, much to my surprise. Is it due to raised testosterone levels? Improved cardiovascular functioning? A deep need for physicality? ...dunno, but I had great fun getting more physical than I usually do (tho' I was up at the front barrier with the moshers proper crashing into me from behind, not REALLY in the pit - unlike when Bison laid into "Wendigo" the other week).
The best thing about the night, tho', was seeing a fifteen-or-so year old girl mixing it up, wearing a Crass t-shirt and smiling in the middle of the action. It does my heart good to see such things - young'uns still caring about Crass; and pits that aren't so meatheaded that 15 year old girls CAN plunge into them... I felt somethin' like love for the kids there, even the guy who was using me as a prop to launch himself up, grabbing both my shoulders from behind and leaping...
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