Old Man Falls Down At Old Man Concert

I arrived at the House of Blues in Anaheim, CA, just in time to catch the start of Marty Friedman’s set. I missed the first band because I felt it was more important to smoke weed in the car. I admit that I only took this assignment to write about Queensryche because I wanted to see Marty do his solo stuff, and they were on the same bill. Marty had just come from the one-night Megadeth reunion show in Budokan, so I figured this would be an exceptional performance. The last time I saw him play was in 1991 during Megadeth’s ‘Rust in Peace’ tour. He’s been living in Japan since 2003 and has since teamed up with three talented young musicians that complement his songwriting style. This was, indeed, a great show, and well worth my time and effort. If you get a chance to see him while he's still in the USA, don’t miss it. Who knows when he'll be back? Marty is definitely one of the greatest guitarists alive.

And now for the main event …

By the time Queensryche hit the stage, I, an old hippie wearing a worn-out KNAC shirt, was starting to feel my age. I'm sure the three overpriced beers I had didn't help any. The band seemed to focus on their newer and less popular material instead of the classics from the early years but played an excellent show nonetheless. About halfway through the set a small mosh pit broke out. Normally this wouldn't bother me, but one of my legs started getting sore. My fat drunk ass was hit just right and I was toppled over by a young lady in a Black Flag t-shirt. BOOM! My first reaction was to save the $20 beer I just purchased, but like anything else in my life, that didn't work out too well. I never realized just how nice the ceiling is at HOB.

"House of Bruise" - artist interpretation by Ricardo Geoffrey

Thankfully, the same young people who knocked me down were kind enough to help me back up and ask me if I was okay. I was much more embarrassed than I was hurt, and to make matters worse, my fall seemed to get the attention of Todd La Torre, the lead singer of Queensryche, who I locked eyes with as a youngster pulled me to my feet. La Torre shook his head and then looked away in disgust. With that, I had enough Queensryche for the evening and did the limp of shame to my car. Once home, I put a frozen steak on my sore leg. What a drag it is getting old.