A Mosh Pit for Mom

I found myself on an unexpected tiny adventure a couple weeks ago. My husband and I bought tickets to see the band Flogging Molly. I LOVE this band. They send happy little gold sparks thru my Irish genes. They are a Celtic punk band, and if I could describe them in one word, I would say, FUN. They used to visit the Phoenix area every St. Patrick’s Day and we made it an annual tradition to see them to celebrate the holiday. They have changed their tour route, however, so we see them when we can, and this year, it just so happened to be in September at the Marquee Theatre in Tempe, AZ.

They had a great opening act at this show, the Vandoliers (who I would call the American/alternative/country version of Flogging Molly). They got the crowd pumped and we had fun singing along to their covers. After they performed, my husband grabbed his beer and I grabbed my sweet smelling Irish whiskey and we pushed up to the front, center stage, for perfect viewing of Flogging Molly.

But…Flogging Molly didn’t come out… yet…

The band, The Bronx did.

Um… I was not ready for The Bronx.

The vocalist, Matt Caughthran didn’t waste time. He went hard fast. Real hard. Hard rock and hard punk mixed up all into one. Now, I have been to some hard rock/heavy metal shows before (I saw Slipknot- now that was an adventure for sure!) At those concerts, I knew better than to head into the thick of things. I stood at a safe distance, taking it all in. Not this show. I found myself front-center and before I could plan my escape route, Matt Caughtrhran literally jumped in front of us and instructed all us Mother F****** to dance!! And, if we couldn’t dance, sing!! And, by sing, he meant scream as loud as you F****** could!

A mosh pit formed at our feet…and it was a big one…one that looks like a sea of people forming a waterspout. A shamrock clad girl in front of me stepped back into me and hit my whiskey, which splattered on my converse. “Oh sorry!” she said, “I got caught in a mosh pit before, and I never want to again. I want out of here!” Me too, I thought, and we stepped back in unison until we hit a wall a few feet back. There was nowhere to go.

So, what did I do? I screamed as loud as I F****** could. I partly screamed because I was seriously scared. Big dudes were right in front of me…throwing elbows. On top of that Matt Caughtran was right in front of me and he told me to scream. He seemed serious. So, I screamed again. And again. I screamed through the whole set.

And, you know what… It was actually cathartic. I have never actually screamed liked that before. I have tried to car scream, when I was really angry and frustrated, but I never could. Nothing would come out. I was plugged up. Something about The Bronx freed me a bit. It felt good to let go of the fear and probably years of pent up anger too.

I usually choose the meditation or yoga or nice slow walks in the garden route for relief, but it looks like screaming your F****** head off in a mosh pit works too!