8/14/12 – Minot w/ Mr. Dad, Japaniel Flatsen, Max Patzner, Chapstick


we drove to Minot, ND. it took five hours. there were gas stations. max continued farting. these are truly tales from the road.

but eventually, we arrived in Minot, ND, which was a place I was eager to learn more about due to its’ reputation for absolutely nothing. all i had known is that recently there was a large fest in Minot called “Why Not Minot” that some of our friends recently played at. i can’t imagine it was anything less than an awesome time because, lets face it, what the fuck else was going on over those few days? i’m sure it’s the kind of setting where it’s a bunch of freaks from all walks of life and death, saving their pennies and dimebags for the big music fest. i’m not being condescending – it sounds like a good time.
however, what was not a good time was the only interesting looking place in the entire city that we went to. it was called Planet Pizza and it seems like a place where you could easily abduct a child and no one would report it missing because no one cared about it. a quick glance at some of the reviews online describe it as “filthy and beaten down”.

i thought about stealing shit from the buffet but then realized i am nearly 30 years old and that i am probably too shitty looking to get away with stealing things at this point. there is a certain age where you can just look like a jerk and most people wont mind what you do – unfortunately ive exceeded that age.
so we left Planet Piss and ended up hanging outside for a while with me, Max, and Pat eventually making our way to some thrift store where everything was a dollar. we bought two age appropriate hats – one rasta looking hat and one trucker hat with a tiny brim. i also contemplated buying this library of microwave recipes. some point at the thrift store, i talked to Chris in Minot who set us up with a guy who had a common name like Will Smith. i can’t remember his name at the moment and i am deeply sorry, but i am drunk when i meet most people and i am not that cool of a person so it shouldn’t be a big deal.

we drove over to a house we were invited to eat some excellent tofu curry at and hung out in this nice little suburban neighborhood between two houses across the street from each other. on the way over we passed a train with Schr

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edinger’s Equation (this is what happened when i tried to cut and paste an O with an umlaut on it) spray-painted on it. after determining our parking spot was ok by seeing a woman with tattoos (the maker of the fine curry), we met people, talked to people, ate food, admired the homes of people who seemed to have their shit together, and maybe met a human child.
then we went to the new Pangea House, which our show was going to christen. for the record, i dont know what happened to the old house but i don’t care because this place was fucking cool, located in the best excuse for a “downtown” that Minot had to offer. and it wasn’t even too far from Planet Pizza.
i missed a few of the bands as the bar next door was serving $2 long island iced teas. we all missed some of everything as the bar next door was serving $2 long island iced teas. we were treated well by the staff there because of our unusual methods of “tipping” on “drinks”. but of what i saw of the other bands playing the show i really enjoyed. two dudes playing guitar and drums started off and all i remember was they were funny and the drummer had a great singing voice.
we also were introduced to a special gem of Minot called Mr. Dad, named undoubtedly after the fact that a few members of the band are dads.

Mr. Dad fucking ripped.

seriously some top notch weirdo aggressive shit. sounded like Fugazi on PCP. hopefully they see this and realize someone remembered them and enjoyed their set, then abandon their families to go on the road.

it was around the time of Mr. Dad’s set that i realized that there were a number of little kids roaming around the room and also an ominous white haired gentleman wearing jean shorts and knee high socks, sitting casually on a couch in the corner.

we loaded up and played one of our least destructive sets, due to the presence of the children. however all sorts of dads had their kids on their shoulders and were chicken-fight moshing, proving that crowds in Minot may be the most punk after all. during our set, the mysterious white haired man sat on the couch and i broke a mic (as always). some kid in an Avenged Sevenfold shirt fixed it, who i then promised a free tape to.

if it were up to me, i’d play shows entirely for kids in Avenged Sevenfold shirts who live in some hick mining/oil/whatever towns. there is no room to be half-hearted or better than anyone in punk because you never know when you have the opportunity to set someone straight and potentially clear out some straight bullshit from their lives. whether or not that kid is still wearing an Avenged Sevenfold shirt doesn’t matter, but what matters is that he witnessed something completely removed from an arena metal band full of cheesy tattooed goofballs. to know i may save that young man’s life with punk music is a valuable thing.

i ended up talking to the white haired man who seemed like he could’ve just been an acid casualty. i saw him leave and get into an el camino, stopping on the way to admire our vintage van. there were other acts that i missed but i caught someone under the name of MaxPat (Max Patzner, assumedly) playing a small acoustic guitar and singing, which somehow i enjoyed.

we went back to the hazy, smokey, $2 long island ice tea bar (the Chicago Club) after selling a ton of merch to the good people of Minot. the bar was filled with oil workers or maybe air force dudes doing raver dances and listening to DJ Tiesto until i changed the music to Pink Floyd’s “Echoes”, twice. at one point, the waitress came up to me,

“did you put this fuckin shit on? you seem like the kind of guy who would put on something stupid like this,”
“no. i did not. i would not do such a thing,”
i replied, sipping my grape flavored long island ice tea, served in a plastic cup.

i put “Echoes” on again before leaving. we went to the neighborhood with the two houses and i went to sleep on a futon with a big black dog, listening to this band called Hickey that i’d never heard of (although research tells me one of their members, Aesop, played in Ludicra and now Agalloch, a black metal band i used to listen to). they put out a “split” with Voodoo Glow Skulls, some band i’ve seen t-shirts of on loser assholes of since i was 13. as i was informed, it was not a real split but was created after Voodoo Glow Skulls fucked them over so they stole one of their horns.

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