So I met Ian MacKaye last night. It's funny meeting someone who was a central figure in my sixteen-year-old world—an emblematic but impossibly remote** voicing of my own teen angst. But now we've all got a couple of decades on us, and he's just a wry, genial friend-of-a-friend in a cold-ass warehouse in Mid-City.
* I was way into Minor Threat during my aforementioned punk phase. "Can't keep up! Can't keep up! Can't keep up! Out... of... step... with the world!"
** Impossibly remote to me anyway. I was the lone outpost of East Coast hardcore in the sleepy vales of Possum Holler.