So I'm coming home from work and, as we disembark from the Skytrain, see a casually-dressed family of three (or four? Were there two kids, or one?) heading for the escalator, and the guy, who looks no more like a punk than I do, these days, is wearing a t-shirt that reads PUNKS...
...and with apologies to the Lewd and Joe Keithley (repped on the shirt with the proto-DOA Skulls and mention of his previous alias, Joey Shithead), my eyes immediately go to the name of one band on it, the Furies - from back in the day when the Furies got bigger billing than Joe! (Not many gigs like that). I have seen the Furies many times and written about them fairly often, too - and I've even seen them share a bill with DOA - but never have I seen a Furies t-shirt before. I think the handwriting may even be that of frontman Chris Arnett. I follow after him, noticing the Lewd, as well.
"Hey, man!" I say happily. He turns to face me on the down escalator. "Cool shirt! I know the main guy in that band" (pointing at the Furies, because like I say, I haven't seen Joe's name yet). "Where did you get that?"
He looks at me, giving the universal not-from-around-here smile-and-head-shake, the one that translates into, "I know you are being friendly, but I have no clue what you just said." (I availed myself of this gesture in Japan many times; it is, blessedly, universal).
I point: "That shirt." I look around theatrically: "Where?" Then I make what I hope isn't a rude hand gesture in whatever country they are from, rubbing my thumb and fingers together: "Buy?"
The woman, who I guess has better English than her husband, says politely, "We are not from here. We buy this in our country."
I can tell she doesn't want to say what her country is, but I must press; I say in as friendly a way as I can, "And your country is..."
"We are from Iran." Kind of apologetically, which I feel bad about. Maybe she thinks we're all Islamophobes over here? In fact, I am predisposed to like Iranians, having enjoyed many films from their country and worked with and/or taught or tutored many immigrants from there. It seems like it is best to leave this unexplained.
...and I do not even try to convey to her that this random encounter and newfound knowledge that THERE ARE IRANIANS BOOTLEGGING LEWD/ FURIES/ SKULLS GIG POSTERS is probably the single most delightful surprise that I have had in months.
...nor did I gush, seeing Joe's name, which I did at that point, that "That guy is on Burnaby Council now! You can vote for him!").
Anyhow, fuck the whole "name three songs" challenge - I don't think even *I* can name three Skulls songs, unless they became DOA songs later, and if "American Wino" is only an album title and not a song, I can only manage two Lewd songs myself, "Suburban Prodigy" and "Kill Yourself." (I fare a bit better with the Furies - "Suicide Bomber, "Friday Night Date," "The Furies," "Olympic Madness"...). In a way it is almost better if they have no idea, like that old Chinese man I glimpsed once going about his business in a Misfits shirt...
...tho' it would have been equally cool to find out that the guy knows his Vancouver punk a bit - that it wasn't a random buy at all - and then to double-check if he's aware of "Firing Squad;" but I felt I was already asking a lot to take a photo of his shirt. Random strangers with speech impediments raving about punk rock are only so welcome, especially when you've got your kids with you.
(I imagine their conversation, in Farsi, as they walked away: "That guy had a kind of weird voice." "Yeah, but my shirt sure made him happy." "Do you know any of those bands? I guess they may be from around here..." Maybe tonight he will go home and Google "the Furies." This thought makes me even happier. Maybe their kid will get curious: imagine a ten year old Iranian boy groovin' on "Suburban Prodigy"... ha!).
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