Insane Clowns Posse

I’m in the middle of a mediation battle on a divorce all day. It’s grueling—battles over who gets the photographs and the dog-carriage. My adult son texts me: Dad, come meet me at Lucky’sPub to watch the Houston Cougar game.

When your adult son sends that text, you do it. It’s great. Besides, it two blocks from my new apartment downtown. It’s on the east side, the EDT or something as my son called it, I don’t know, I was afraid to go over there at because I heard “drug” guys were over there. I met him there tonight and it was great. Busy bars everywhere, alive and excited.

I met my son and his friends at Luckys and watched the first half, then it was 10:00, they did shots, and I was ready to go home and let them do what stupid things young guys do.

I left the bar and the alive district called me. I wondered down the street across from a loud Little Woodrows, and was pulled to a large loud crowd outside a club. Insane Clown Posse-ICP-was playing tonight. Older guys in a band that wear clown faces and spray soda onto the crowd for the entire 45 minutes of their performance. I thought gross, but these fans, only a little younger than I am, dressed up like fans to a Rocky Horror Picture Show and smoke and drank on the sidewalk excited for the concert.

I hung out with the bouncer, George, been doing it for 20 years and seen everything, and partied. Will, my son, came out.

“Oh Yeah, when I was in Denver, they were the big thing. I can’t believe they’re here” He said.

I didn’t care about the band, these fans were awesome. I don’t know what they do during the day. Regular jobs, regular people. A doctor, insurance salesman, publicist. Tonight, they were part of the show.

Once again, I had to condemn myself for listening to rumors, being afraid of an area, not seeking out the truth. I’m going to memorize this area like I’m doing downtown now. I’ve got to squeeze this juice out of life.

Thanks ICP.