Slightly Stoopid
I went to Point Loma High School with the guys from Slightly Stoopid. I used to put on vintage Levi’s, tie a flannel around my waist, and go to their shows at SOMA.
Remember SOMA? Pre-Sports Arena? Back when it was in Linda Vista?
That space is now a doggie daycare. Sigh… how times have changed.
On Saturday I was randomly invited to the 91X 30th Birthday Bash at the House of Blues, featuring Buck-O-Nine, Sprung Monkey, and P.O.D., with Slightly Stoopid headlining.
It was quite an event. Suge Knight was there. Flava Flav was there. Some comedian that I’ve never heard of—but the crowd went wild for—was there. I suddenly felt cooler just for being in the building.
In a wave of nostalgia, I was transported back to my days at SOMA and the YMCA, where we used to stalk the guys from Blink, collect bumper stickers from cool bands, and blast Dance Hall Crashers in my old Mazda Protégé.
Ah… high school.
Then came the reality check.
There’s nothing like wearing $400 pony hair pumps, while dancing in a puddle of spilled Coors Light, to make you think I’m too old for this.
P.O.D.
During P.O.D’s set, the lead singer’s little bitty of a son came out and assisted on the drums. The kid was cute. He wore neon headphones to protect his ears from the noise. He had mini dreads. And he flung the beach balls that landed on stage back into the audience. Like I said, cute.
But when your favorite part of a punk concert is a 5-year-old with a drumstick in his hand, you know you’re OLD. I’m pretty sure the mosh pit of youngsters dancing with their middle fingers in the air could have cared less about the kid.
Full disclosure: I am still hungover. Was it the Coors Light or those two pre-concert glasses of chardonnay on ice? Tough call. And since when did hangovers start lasting three days?
Also, I may have permanently damaged my hearing. No, seriously. I had to crank up the volume when I watched the Bachelor last night—much to the annoyance of everyone else around me.
But it was worth it, and very exciting to see Slightly Stoopid play after all these years. Local boys made good. I had such a crush on Miles Doughty when I was in high school. And he was just like I remembered. To him and the band, I say, “Bravo! Way to represent!”
Oh, and happy birthday 91X!
Now I’d like to go put on my sweatpants, Google hearing loss, and pour my thirty-something self a glass of chardonnay on ice.
Amen.
