2001-11-12 - 1:11

God hates us all

As promised, here's a recap of yesterday's trip to Montreal to see Slayer, touring in support of their latest, God Hates Us All. (With a title like that, you know that you're in for a fun time. Heheh.) I gave Saturday its usual treatment: sleeping in 'til noon. That left me with a few hours to kill, so I took the Mach 3 to my head for the first time in weeks (you gotta look metal, right?) and played DAoC.

Aaron was nice enough to drive me to the bus station and I spent most of the two hour trip staring out the window, getting psyched for the show.

Things first began to go awry when I left the bus station in Montreal. I had looked up the address of the station online before I left. Unfortunately, that map was slightly inaccurate, showing the station as being east of a particular street, when in fact, it is west. As a result, I took a right instead of a left and wasted a decent amount of time walking the wrong way through Montreal.

(For anybody who does know the city, I will have to admit that yes, the bus station is on Maisonneuve, which is only a block away from St. Catherine Street. So, no, it shouldn't have taken me very long to realize that I was going the wrong way. Now quit buggin' me.)

I had given myself time to kill, anyway, so that mistake was no great loss. In fact, it was rather nice walking through Montreal, watching the rain turn to snow.

Once I got turned around and found the right area, I stopped for a quick supper. It was while I was walking to the club that things went sour.

I may have mentioned on here before that I've had somewhat of a screwed up leg for a few years. One of my calves is a little wonky and occasionally, it tenses up on me and contracts on its own. It doesn't happen very often--it just seems to be more sensitive to stress, like a lot of extra walking around. When it does go bad, though, it's prone to going bad for the rest of the night.

So, considering that I had to stop a couple of times during my walk to the Metropolis, including once when all of my toes curled up and I had no control over them, I had to decide to stay out of the mosh.

That was very much a let-down, but what could I do? At least that decision left me in better shape for catching the midnight bus home. I stayed closer to the back than usual and I didn't check my coat at the door.

Despite being taken out of commission for a physical concert, I had a great time. I was still headbanging and screaming along. Of course, the crowd was very enthusiastic, and why not? Slayer has been around for twenty years; and, while I'll never know how their live show has changed in that time, it's hard to imagine that they were ever any better than they are today.

The band is very tight live, able to seamlessly string together song after song, layering older material alongside the new. They picked an amazing set, drawing from almost all of their albums. Everything about the concert was excellent and it was a blast simply watching them play so well. I haven't felt as alive in ages as when I lost myself singing along to "War Ensemble" and "Dead Skin Mask." After being a fan for over ten years--Slayer was just a bit too heavy for me when I was seven years old listening to some of the other thrash bands, but I caught up to them--seeing the band live was everything I had hoped, despite having to pass on the mosh.

(I'll fire off a slightly more detailed review later; but that's the gist of it.)

The show moved along quickly, so by the time that "Angel of Death" wrapped up Slayer's 90 minute set, I still had plenty of time to get to the bus station.

The ride home was quiet, as you would expect at that time of night. The downside was the very beautiful girl who was sitting across the aisle from me. Honestly, I don't need to come across beauty in my life now. I would rather not feel so . . . lacking.

I think that it's very unfortunate that I still think of Jian as often as I do, considering how poorly she treated me before leaving town without saying goodbye. Imagine if she had actually been nice to me for more than brief, disconnected intervals. How badly would I feel then?

Combining a post-concert let-down with a long ride through the night, after getting me started on that line of thinking, is simply not good for my mental health.

Today, I slept in (of course) and had the place to myself for a while. I watched the Ti-Cats stick it to the Alouettes, as I knew they would; and listened to some Portishead and Lois Maffeo. By this evening, I'd say that I was in a normal mood again; and I spent most of the night chilling with the roommates (including watching the rather sketchy Simpsons premiere).

All in all, it was an interesting weekend. I've made quite a few solo trips for concerts; and I always enjoy the vibe that I have leading up to the show. I like the feeling of independence and the anticipation of the event. It's also the case that if I've put that much effort into getting there, you know that I'll be giving it my all at the show. Despite having to hold back from the mosh, I did still put a lot of energy into the concert and I got a lot out of it.

As for my mental meanderings afterwards, what can I say? These are thoughts and moods that come to me from time to time; and my post-concert moods are usually intensified.

The Montreal trip as a whole was definitely a great time, though.

J.