Friday, January 09, 2009
I cried the night the Sex Pistols played the Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas. At 15 years old, my Dad wasn't about to let me make the long drive to the show though I pleaded my case with all manner of teenage exaggeration. The old man wasn't moved by my tears and he wouldn't have been moved by the Pistols. But as note to parents: not seeing the show may have turned out to be an even more powerful influence as I shoved my first safety pin through my ear the next day.
Years later I would see the Cro Mags with Motorhead at the Longhorn but was more most interested in asking people about the night the Sex Pistols were in town than sparing with skinheads. Over the years, I've met quite of few people and heard some funny tales from those who were in attendance but this unearthed bit of historic rock-n-roll gold makes me shiver with glee anew.
To revisit the tale of when I finally did met up with the band go to the Running Mule archive.
Johnny Rotten, You Fat Old Irish Fuck