November 23, 2010
From the desk of Ms.Mild
I know what you're thinking: another picture of a mild girl and her cat on a Saturday night, but AHA! This picture comes with a different tale (or should I say TAIL...Ha!).
So imagine I used to be super into punk rock. Like, I completely avoided all the regular teenage stuff like dates and proms and getting my ears pierced (OK, BABIES do that) because all I wanted to do was listen to college radio, write angsty (albeit AWESOME) letters to pen-pals in other cities, go to all-ages punk shows while my parents pretty much waited in the car, etc, etc.
My whole life I was obsessed with bands. I tried to play music, but our band (in the 8th grade!) broke up before we ever played a show. And then my bass guitar just sat in my bedroom before traveling with me to college, the city my post-college boyfriend lived in, grad school and now my post-grad Mild Life.
All my friends have always been in bands (or writers). It makes more sense with me to hang out with people who play music (or write) than people who make visual art or even films (which I do make). I think it might be a class thing really. But we can talk about that later...
ANYWAY...at some point, maybe in say, grad school, I kind of stopped going to shows. Seeing live bands was no longer as fun as it used to be for a multitude of reasons, but I think a big one was that NO ONE EVER DANCED.
When you have been going to shows from age 13 to like 25+, things just start to get a little TOO MILD. You need something that is going to be a lot more than what you've already seen in a 1,000 different incantations.
Cue the above photo.
Imagine that ever since I moved to L.A. in October of '08, I got introduced to this cumbia (look it up if you don't know what I'm talking about) band and I just GOT IT instantly. Their music was more than mild. It put me and everyone else in their audience in a sweaty booty-shaking dance trance! This is the kind of live music I can dance to and it's barely amplified. Wow, I can dance AND not go deaf--a perfect combination for a Girl Gone Mild.
Unfortunately, a lot of my friends haven't given this band a chance and/or hate paying the inevitable $10 or $12 that always comes with seeing said band in L.A. (cheapos!).
Anyway, I think this band realized there was a Girl Gone Mild in their fanbase and eventually asked me...
IF I WOULD START SELLING MERCH FOR THEM.
Only a Girl Gone Mild would get asked to not be a groupie, but ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING THAT INVOLVES COUNTING.
It actually struck me as the most Girls Gone Mild thing I could do. I could go to their shows and not feel awkward about being alone and I would have a PURPOSE.
Here's the deal. If I'm going to either see a band I like or go to a bar (or both) ALONE, I need a purpose. I need a friend there I can talk to or...A TASK I CAN BE GOOD AT.
So now in the last breaths of my 20s, I totally watch my favorite live band for free and then get paid for selling a few of their CDs and t-shirts (OK, more than a few because it turns out Mild Girls are really good sales people...SIGH, a curse.) at the end of the night.
And I'm home safe and sound a little after 2am with a certain less-than-mild feline.
I look forward to wearing glasses someday. Then I will fit every mild-girl stereotype.
But seriously, being mild kind of rocks when you do it right!
Posted by Cathy at 10:20 PM