My Dad at the Pavement Show

The first time I saw Pavement live was in Cleveland with my sister...and my dad. Since my sister was 15 and we were heading to the big, scary city, Dad thought he'd accompany us to the show.

He enjoyed Dirty Three and their stories about the local pharmacist providing all the medication a junkie could need. They also played a stirring set of violin-based instrumentals that rocked as much as they moaned.

Fuck played next. He didn't care for them. I don't remember much more than that they didn't stick out like their name did.

The headliners finally made it to the cramped stage in the Agora Theater's ballroom. One of the members, I think Kannenberg, wore a fan-made t-shirt with ironed on letters. A few mooks stood up front with their shirts removed. The crowd moshed, but the band brought that on themselves.

While we saw a memorable set, my dad found a spot at the bar. He ordered a drink. The bartender made a joke about IDing him. Then she reached below the bar to reveal a Mason jar of clear liquid and offered him some. Wisely, Dad turned down the drink.

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