Too Good to Not Blog
My high school boyfriend and our mutual best friend visit me here in Eugene. They take me to a neighborhood that I have never been to. It's a new neighborhood that is still being built, so there is scaffolding and bare boards of wood through out the area. It's the Punk Rock area of town. God, how could I miss this place!! We took public trasportation there. The streets are lined with punks. Dyed red mohawks, leather and studs, shaved heads and boots. Wow, I'm overwhelmed by the place. All the punks look like they are straight out of the late '70's scene in England. The place is every-city that I've ever been: Boston, London and San Francisco all rolled into one, yet a little less urban... we
are in Eugene. There are a multitude of bars with colored lights and fresh sounds spilling out their doors. I lose my friends. I start backtracking in search of them. I see a sign that proclaims the neighborhood name "South Hampton". I look for my friends in a bar that is bathed in red light. No luck. I continue down the street and am drawn into a large underground space, beckoned by instruments. It's a huge space, like a subway station with stages tucked away in corners so that multiple bands are playing. I see
Ed Cole, with a classic '80's punk attire, casual in t-shirt and leather jacket. He is taller than usual. I see
Orbital Dave, who is clearly coming from a performance, all glammed out in his attire. He tells me exasperated: "these people SUCK." He's talking about the people who run the place "they are so disorganized." The place looks like a punk rock disney land to me. I see Robin Jackson, dressed in his
March Fourth band uniform.
I wake up feeling the possiblities of this underground Eugene scene....