If You’re Not Bloody and Bruised You Aren’t Doing It Right

(To get full context read previous blog)

Where did I leave off on this portion of my tale of the Great Visit Home?  Oh yes, now I remember.  My sister had agreed to go with me to the Between the Buried and Me/Coheed and Cambria concert downtown.  We got in the car and commenced our race against time in order to make it on time to see BTBAM take the stage.

Not a picture I took, but it was taken at the same show I was at.

Perfectly for us, we got there right at the end of the opening act’s set with enough time to take a quick tinkle and make our way to the middle of the crowd to wait in anticipation for the band to take the stage.  As soon as the lights dimmed and the music began, the pit opened up and it was time to mosh to my most favoritest music.  Not before long I realized that if I wanted to keep both shoes on my feet I’d better tie them a bit tighter: this pit was intense folks.  I kid you not, first song: dude right next to me=knocked out cold and carried out.  I was punched, kicked, and thrown around, but all in the spirit of fun and mutual crowd enjoyment.

Between the Buried and Me!

At one point after being knocked in the face I was unfortunate enough to lose a contact.  After investigating my eye to see if it was dwelling off to the side of my cornea I discovered it indeed was hanging tight right up in there.  My struggle ensued.  Between the soft and heavier parts of the music I was trying to balance returning my contact to its rightful place and not getting thrown on the floor.  A few minutes later a guy next to me realized what I was trying to do and before long I had a barrier of men between me and the thrashing going on in the pit around me.  After a few minutes of tussling, trying not to drop it and lose it forever, and with the aid of some gentleman’s phone for light, my contact was in its rightful place and I was ready to continue my thrashing.

Also, Coheed and Cambria

Most of BTBAM’s set was a mix of shouting lyrics, thrusting hands in the air, and throwing down like if someone put a Justin Bieber cd in your hands.  During their last song, and with the help of a rather swoll stranger, I propelled myself on top of the crowd and was carried to the front of the stage.  After being helped down by security I was standing in the gap between the fans and the stage, just enjoying the view and ready to make my way through the crowd back into the pit.

Needless to say, it was a great show: outstanding sound quality, minimal bruising, and a cold Gatorade afterwards, all starting with a last-minute scurry to the venue.


I highly recommend making friends with some metal heads and going to a show, especially while your bones are strong and can handle it.


About Joey

My name is Joseph Edward Weisenritter. I'm from the southside of Chicago, I have two sisters, two dogs, and two loving parents. If you asked me to describe myself I'd say "music". I like birds. Also, I like to write.
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