Sometimes perks come for no reason. On Saturday, Matt Worley (fellow SUIT columnist) received two free tickets in the mail for the sold out Red Hot Chili Peppers/Foo Fighters show that night. It's been two years since Matt's youthful opus, Lies Magazine, ended its sixteen issue existence, but his name is still on many promotions lists because of the effort. Early in the week, a rep asked if he wanted tickets, and he said yes. Being the resident columnist for Lies, I was the first (and last) person he asked to go with him. I knew there was a reason I still hung out with guy.

When the time came to go to the show, I was pretty sluggish. My Friday night extra-curricular activities (I watched The Gluey Brothers perform) along with the intense weekend heat left my body twisted and slow. As we sauntered up to The Pit, I wondered how much enthusiasm I had in me, but when I stepped into the basketball complex, the buzzing energy level and smell of sweat and smoke perked up my body for another night of loud live music.

I've been going to rock shows since I was twelve years old when my oldest brother drove me to Amarillo to see Ratt play (Bon Jovi was opening up). Since then, I have experienced enough live shows to satiate the appetite of a dozen well-adjusted individuals. Of course, well-adjusted is one adjective you wouldn't use to describe my unnatural draw to rock concerts (especially since I'm a writer and not a musician).

I've been in venues of all shapes and sizes to see a show. I've been one of a dozen people watching a band, and I've been one of 20,000. I've seen shows sober, drunk, stoned, tripped out and a variety of interesting combinations. I've stopped in clubs to catch a half an hour set, and I've stayed until late in the night at rock festivals. I've watched horrible musicians stumble around hopelessly, and I've seen geniuses go off on their craft.

There is no accounting for my taste. I've seen Iron Maiden, Metallica, Anthrax, Aerosmith, Kiss and Fear Factory, but I've also seen White Lion, Whitesnake and Great White. I sat with Matt in the Dingo Bar watching a band we both dug called No Knife, and we were the only people in the place. I've seen Rocket From The Crypt and the Red Aunts five times each. I've seen Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black perform painted and naked and had GWAR spew simulated blood on me. I've seen Mr. Bungle orchestrate at the Sunshine Theater and NOFX masticate at Five Points Music Hall. I've seen the Descendants and their alter ego All in different times and places. I sprained my wrist falling to the floor at a Less Than Jake concert and left on a road trip to Juarez the next day not able to make a fist.

James Brown, Sonic Youth, Cyprus Hill, The Roots, Mike Watt, The Aquabats, The Queers, Suicide Machines, NOMEANSNO, Long Beach Dub All-Stars, The Slackers, Santana, Stryper, Self, Satchel, Long Fin Killie, The Cheater Slicks, Rancid, Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Morphine, Buzzon-en, Soul Asylum, The Meat Puppets, Bad Religion, Voodoo Glowskulls, and on and on and on and on.

I've watched the Albuquerque bands (past) like The Drags, The Johnny Cats, Hazeldine, Irie Still, Rizzo, Giant Steps, Apricot Jam, Angry Babies, The Meek (and present) Fatso, Red Earth, Stoic Frame, The Eyeliners, Fever Hot!, Jason and the Argonauts, Starsky, Beefcake In Chains, and (once again) on and on and on and on.

Does this mean I'm some rock n' roll guru deserving of everyone's respect for sacrificing my hearing? Nope. All this means is that I go to shows every now and again. There is no status obtained, but that doesn't mean I lack sufficient reasons to go to the show. I watch bands to cheer me up, give me a reason to drink in public, release my aggression, inspire my own creativity, get lost in a crowd, check out pretty women, jump around (cheap exercise), and sometimes just kill off the dead hours of a night otherwise worth forgetting.

I can now add Foo Fighters and The Red Hot Chili Peppers to the list of bands I've seen. I wouldn't say the show was worth the forty buck ticket price but definitely worth attending for free. More expensive tickets do not always mean a better show. I've had as much (and more) fun at five buck shows as the ones I had to drop twenty dollars or more to attend. Nevertheless, I had a great time. RHCP kept me grooving through their entire set, giving me flashbacks from when I started listening to them in high school all the way up to the present, and they even threw in a couple surprise numbers like "Me and My Friends" and "Sir Psycho Sexy." I went home tired and happy, and that's all I really ask for from any band I see.

Chris Jungle is a freak of nature, but we love him so.