Why you should take your Mum to a punk show

There are a lot of reasons why you should take your Mum to a punk show… or at least why I should take MY Mum to a punk show.

First off, I would like to state that if my Mum was not my Mum I would be grievously deformed or dead. That’s just a fact. But since my Mum is a nurse she has managed to stitch me back together more times than I would care to admit. This comes in quite handy after a St. Patrick’s weekend “Punkapalooza,” as she will get you ice to put on your dented shin and offer to put a tensor bandage on your leg.

One might think that the punk scene is not necessarily the place for anyone’s Mum, especially if she is the Mum to a child who derives a tremendous amount of joy from jumping around in a mosh pit with giant studded punks. And in this thought you may be correct, but I am very lucky to have a Mum that will drive from Kelowna to Vancouver just so she can hang out with me at a punk show. By hang out I don’t mean sit in the seats at the back of the venue together, I mean I grin at her and launch myself into the mosh pit and surface occasionally to give her a hug or to bring her a glass of water while she dances a safe distance away from the pit. Not everybody’s Mum would want to hang out like that.

Bringing my Mum with me to that show was also a huge bonding experience for us because I am very protective of who I share my music and my world with. Punk has been my safe place for a long time whether just the music, the shows, or the community, in general, it is where I feel most at home and not judged by the people around me.

Taking my Mum to one of my favourite bands and spending time with her there made me so happy and to see that she was having fun and enjoying herself meant so much to me. During the opening acts and between me being in the mosh pit she taught me how to waltz and polka. So, we ended up waltzing around the floor to Turkish punk waltzes and polkaing to punk rock polkas. Now that I have written that down I realize how weird and one of a kind that experience is and I love that!

For the few moments that we were sitting down in the seats at the back of the venue behind the sound guy, the two punks sitting in front of us fell asleep. This happened to be when the drummer (affectionately known as the Stupid Swedish Bastard or SSB) for The Dreadnoughts came out to talk to the sound guy.

The SSB noticed the two punks sleeping and went to take a picture of them, so, naturally, my Mum took the opportunity to put up bunny ears behind their heads. That means somewhere on the SSB’s phone is a picture of two sleeping punks with my Mum behind them with bunny ears up and me laughing my butt off. I hope he appreciates it.

Now of the less emotional aspects of having your Mum at the show with you. Presumably, she will give you a lift there and back so you have a safe way to the show and home afterward. Trust me, it is very good to have a plan on how you’re getting home because a few times I haven’t and trying to figure it out is quite stressful.

You might get your drinks bought for you.This was less of a concern for me because after moshing I just want a ton of cold water. But she did buy us a cider to share because if you’re seeing the Dreadnoughts you need to drink at least one cider — it would be wrong not to.

She can take awesome concert pictures while you’re busy moshing and therefore would be unwise for you to have your phone out, not that I ever listen to this and take photos anyway. It also means you have an actual place to stay instead of sleeping on someone’s floor, the back of a car, or a sketchy hotel. Lastly, as previously mentioned you get free medical attention after the show.

So, thanks Mum for coming to The Dreadnoughts “Punkapalooza” with me, even though I know you worried when the wall of death formed and you knew I was dumb enough to be in the front of it, or when they started playing “Cider Road” and the mosh went insane you trusted me to be safe and to come back to you when I needed to.

Thank you for taking pictures of me getting sprayed with a water gun full of cider and dealing me smelling like a combination of a men’s locker room and the pub floor. You are one hell of a Mum and a fun punk buddy!