Suited-up

I had an interview this afternoon for work at a NGO as a communications specialist, doing web content development, research, and editing. I had time to kill beforehand, so I ducked into a Borders Books and browsed through the magazines. Picked up a Maximum Rock 'n Roll, probably the first time in about five years, read a column about the death of Matt Odietus of the Candy Snatchers, and skimmed the reviews.

Funny thing, was that I was in my suit, tie and a sharp blue shirt. If my 17 year old self caught glimpse of someone like me, dressed professionally, with a punk 'zine in hand (stalwartish, irrelevant, or whatever), I would have either mockingly laughed, or thought about how awesome it was that someone could still be into the punk rock AND work a real job. Back then I wasn't much the churlish type, so I really want to believe that I'd fall into the latter.

I remember being mightily impressed that the singer of the Twerps, an amazing Cincinnati punk band, was a professor at NKU. And that the bassist of the Slobs, another equally great band, worked in finance. Being that I was going to shows in punkhouses, covered in sweat and beer, I was affirmed that I didn't have to discard my ideals if I wanted to do something with my life.

Not saying I'm doing much with what I've got, but I'm doing something.