The Events of August 9, 2001 through August 11, 2001 and My Thoughts Thereon
On August 9, 2001, I was pulled into my supervisor's office and given a rather unexpected promotion. I went from assistant manager to manager. Interestingly enough, I was the last member of the office staff to find out about this. When I first walked in in the morning, I was met by one of the CSRs who said something along the lines of 'how does it feel to be in charge.' I thought she was referring to the difficult morning we were having just getting the trucks out or my new business cards that had just come in that were missing the word "assistant" even though, to my knowledge, I was still, technically, "assistant." Little did I know she was actually referring to what I was soon about to find out.
At the time of the meeting, I don't think I fully grasped the enormity of the situation simply because it took me by such surprise. I knew this promotion was coming, but I wasn't expecting it for many months from now. In the hours after the meeting, I came to realize that, at the age of 24, I am largely responsible for a 13-truck, $2 million (annual revenue) moving company. Kind of scary. Three years ago, I never would have guessed I'd be in this position. Hell, even one year ago I wouldn't have thought I'd be in this position so quickly. Furthermore, I don't quite seem to fit the manager mold with my unusual life views and personality, my tattoos, and my long hippie-ass hair. (Editor's Note: Read that carefully...it's "hippie-ass hair" NOT "hippie ass-hair". Thank you.) My office is decorated with computer paper form-feed tear-off streamers hanging from the ceiling and with a string of Christmas tree lights that I found in a truck. And my overall work behavior? It's really not very professional. I'm the kind of person most people try to avoid. Nevertheless, it's nice to know my supervisor could look past my weirdness. It's also nice to know that my ridiculous hours of work did not go by unnoticed, and along with this promotion came a rather healthy raise of more than 8.5% of my salary. August's portion of this raise was promptly spent during the next two days...at Metalfest.
Milwaukee Metalfest is an annual two-day event (number 15 this year) in Milwaukee (duh!) that showcases underground metal. There are over 160 bands on four stages--27 hours of metal in two days. Metalfest is about the only thing that shows me there's still some hope for humanity by proving extreme underground metal remains dead and well (sic) and ready to pound your fucking face in, despite what you may be led to believe. As much as I hate crowds and people in general, it's kind of nice every once in a while to spend some time with people that share my points of view. After all, where else would I see a T-shirt that proudly proclaims "JESUS IS A CUNT"? Nobody said anything about my long hair (or, actually, relatively short hair), black fingernails, or "Deep Inside I Plant the Devil's Seed" T-shirt that I was wearing. Nobody obviously said anything about the music that I was listening to at ridiculously high levels because we were all enjoying the same thing. It's like we were united in one deep common bond, man (note--that must be read in a stoned '60s hippie tone).
I think there's a popular misconception that Metalfest is simply a gathering of lawless, Satan worshipping, animal sacrificing, baby stealing, alcoholic drug addicts. In reality, it's relatively peaceful. It's largely a rather polite and, in general, well-behaved group of metalheads who really just want to be left alone so that they can enjoy their favorite music played at proper volumes. Nobody killed themselves despite the violent themes in the music, and, in fact, I doubt anybody died. True, as a two-day festival, a great deal of alcohol and marijuana was consumed, but getting drunk (and high) isn't the primary goal of the gathering as it seems to be at so many other events (other concerts, sporting events, etc.). Not once was I vomited on or was beer spilled down my back. If one wished not to go nuts in the mosh pits, one needn't do so and could simply stand back and nod politely with the music. Don't like this particular band? There are three others playing, and there's always tables upon tables of CDs and other metal paraphernalia to buy. Need to squeeze by somebody? A simple "excuse me" and a tap on the shoulder is sufficient. Accidentally bump into somebody? A friendly "sorry, man" and a nod of the head is more than enough to get an "it's cool" and a friendly nod of the head in response. Also lacking is much of the "tough guy" posing so prevalent at other concerts.
Here are some further miscellaneous observances from Metalfest. As can be expected with 160 bands, some were excellent (Anathema and Immolation just to name two) and others sucked (Dizneyfist just to name one). Most of the T-shirts were outstanding, as were many band names (Meat Shits, Dick Delicious and the Tasty Testicles, etc.). There were a lot of metal chicks in fishnet and leather. Some pulled this off superbly and were hot as hell; others were just, no matter what, scary as hell (as is the case at so many large gatherings). Furthermore, at least one band had to cancel because the lead singer was arrested for marijuana possession, and one band played sans drummer simply because he decided not to show up. This was kind of weird, but they were still pretty good, albeit incredibly pissed. It kind of made me glad to know I'm not the only one dealing with serious employee problems and no call/no shows. Roughly one-quarter of the attendees were band members that were playing in one group or another. Overall, I would guess a large percentage of the people in attendance were fairly unique, creative, and/or intelligent free-thinkers who demand more from life than the usual offal that is vomited forth from the radio on a constant basis. I think this is particularly true for those gravitating towards the subtle complexities and emotion-laden, introspective lyrics of doom metal.
Come Monday, August 13, it was back to the usual crap of work. I had a tough time putting my monkey outfit back on and tying that damn tie again that morning. I really didn't want to go back. In fact, in the days leading up to Metalfest, I was joking around with the other office staff about how I wasn't coming back and was instead going to go out on the road to tour with Gorgasm. August 9th brought a promotion and a raise. August 10th and 11th brought what I called my celebration (though I had been looking forward to it for weeks)--spending August's portion of my raise on CDs and T-shirts at Metalfest. August 13th brought me back to work. The events of the week following Metalfest have led me to believe that those two days were quite possibly the last two days off for the rest of my life. At least I enjoyed them.
Originally written:
September 1-2, 2001
Put online:
September 2, 2001
Discussion:
N/A
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