Playlist #143 and a 100 Word (true) Concert Story

Some melon twisting for your Monday, and The Dead Milkmen.

Good Morning!

Record Store Day was this past weekend. Were you able to get something you’ve been after? If so, what’d you get?

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Yesterday was my first day back at work since the mask mandate for transportation was lifted. I know this issue can be a third rail, so let me just say this; however you feel about it, you’re 100% correct, and I respect your view.

For airline employees, though, the overwhelming mood is one of relief—for a whole host of reasons. Being back in the terminal was surreal; a weird combination of feeling like I was getting away with something, and like I had my fly open.

Also: Some of you used the last 2 years to make some questionable facial hair decisions, and we all see it.

At any rate, I hope your 1st day back this week is a lot more normal than mine was. Here’s some tunes to get you rolling.

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The Dead Milkmen in 100 words:

Photo: Napster.com

In high school, my friend Jed and I went to see The Dead Milkmen. They were out supporting “Metaphysical Graffiti.” It was at Melody Ballroom; a grand hall where you had to walk upstairs to the main floor. It retained an air of dignity even when filled with degenerates like us.

Smaller bands were exiled down to the basement.

Completely Grocery opened. They’re the best band you've never heard of. Seriously.

I stood by the pit was immediately rabbit punched. The girl that hit me said she thought that’s what she was supposed to do and shrugged.

What a night.

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Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

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