When I was 14 one of the first punk rock shows I ever went to was in a sleepy Southern Alberta town called Lethbridge. I had met some rad punk chicks when I was camping and convinced my parents to take me there on our summer roadtrip so I could come visit. After skating a bunch, we hit up a show in the basement of a hotel where I proceeded to have my mind blown by kids thrashing around to Mohawk guitars and guttural screams. Welcome to punk rock. Now don’t leave, ever.
Later that evening we hit up a McDicks for cheap eats. While whipping fries at old people, I met a dude named Paul. He seemed pretty awesome. Afterwards I remember driving around Lethbridge and crushing a few beers in an elementary school parking lot with him and the punk chicks. It was one of my favourite nights as a kid and I’ve definitely revisited the memory more than a few times.
Fast-forward 16 years. Paul now plays in a band called the Ketamines, runs a label called Mammoth Cave and still seems pretty awesome.