Ryan Byrd’s Ramblings

Saturday morning found me at the Utah Fairgrounds standing in a long line, in a curious, motley crowd of mostly teen misfits. I had decided on a whim to attend the punk rock event, if for nothing else, amusement. I was not let down. Several feet ahead of me in the line was a Hispanic kid attempting (and failing) to simultaneously beat box and play a flute. Though his efforts were completely futile, he was not to be deterred and he kept up the exercise unflaggingly for the better part of a half an hour.

While in line, I noticed an activist walking beside the group encouraging people to vote. My guess is that idea sounded reasonable in a committee days before. “They’ll be lots of potential voters”, I can imagine they said. “We should send out volunteers to register them all.” Reality was different than their supposition because,

1. most were too young, or too stoned to register
2. the majority didn’t seem to be particularly pro-government (more about that later)

I was met at the fairgrounds by friends kinelson and wattwood and the three of us entered the crowded event with great expectations. Did I mention it was blazingly hot? The mercury rose to a hundred and four and the scarce cloud cover provided little shade. This turned the Warped Tour into a clothing-optional event, which depending on how you look at it can be either good or bad. Here’s my opinion– most people should leave their clothing on. My opinion, however, was neither solicited nor heeded, as the masses stripped to their skivvies to enjoy the body pounding music.

The bands were numerous, though you’ve never heard of any of them unless you smoke a lot of weed, and there was a lot of weed being smoked there, including on stage by a band member who announced, “Attention police officers– I’m smoking weed”. The police (their presence apparently a mere formality) did nothing in response to his declaration. Neither did they stop the large, overly-violent shoving matches that broke out with each song. Instead they grouped together in a raised pavilion like a timid herd of elementary school boys during a fifth grade dance. I noticed they wore earplugs.

I wore earplugs too. I’m not a big fan of punk rock, and for those who don’t know, punk rock concerts involve ear-splitting volumes and a lot of incomprehensible yelling. Between songs the vocalist would extemporaneously opine on a variety of topics. I can’t remember what they said, but I did note the frequent use of the f-word. Every sentence spoken by the Warped Tour bands was seasoned liberally that four letter word. Imagine a typical high school cheerleader’s speech, and substitute each “like” with the f-word and you’ll get the picture.

Let’s return to the mosh pits. As the music tempo would increase, so would the likelihood of a mosh circle opening in the crowd. Maddened youth would fling themselves into the center and whip their arms helter-skelter about while contorting themselves as though suffering from convulsions of the most serious kind. Fists and kicked feet met unprepared moshers and non-moshers alike and injures were widespread. Myself, I suffered from a bruised wrist and ankle. I will note however, that I delivered a legend of incredible shoves knocking down the moshers with both alacrity and tempered rage. It was fun.

Something interesting I observed in these mosh pits of death: paradoxically the same group of villains who were earnestly trying to kill you, would swoop immediately to help you up if you stumbled and fell to the ground. I can only assume that, in their view, it is dishonorable to die by trampling, though it’s perfectly acceptable for you to meet your fate through punching and kicking.

There was a lot of angst among both the performers and spectators. The bands favorite targets were: the government, George Bush “the liar”, military recruiting in schools, anti-gays and Mormons. Making fun of Mormons in Utah. That’s both classy and original. In response to this classiness, I threw 5 Gatorade bottles and a hacky sack at one lead vocalist but missed — though I was close many times (he was good at dodging). After the barrage, he voiced that we were a particularly reactive group. I can only hope they’ll attempt to malign Allah during Warped Tour Tehran concert.

By now you must think I attended a raucous, debaucherous saturnalia. I can assure you, however, that the event would have been exponentially more bacchanalian had alcohol been allowed. Thankfully it was banned.

I still don’t like punk rock, but I did have a lot of fun at the Warped Tour. It’s rare in Utah for such a heterogeneous amalgamation of people to be found in one spot. I’m glad I was there to witness it.