I flipped that tape for ages

A few days ago, I played at the exact place I went to to see my very first punk rock concert ever (with my mum – for the record). It was so incredibly special, since it was 15 years later, and I got pretty much overwhelmed by just getting there. Even that one weird dude who attends every single show and is always dancing (every punk place here has one such guy) was there still. I do not live there any more for about 11 years now, and I pretty much got my whole “punk socialization” from that place. I saw Karate there when they were still great, I saw The Most Secret Method there and discovered that there is women in punk, I saw bricks thrown into cops´car´s windows for the first time when the place was about to be shut down… and now I get invited there and they cook amazing food and whatnot.
But the best thing was: My mother came to that show, along with two of my sisters, though they live at least 3 hours away. And I DRANK WITH MY MOTHER (which must´ve been an even crueler experience for her, since I didn´t drink between age 14 and 22, and she never saw me drinking before).
The next day I found the first Tindersticks album in a record store, a record I had gotten a tape copy from my dad about 13 (!) years before, one of the few tapes I constantly listened to over the years.
I am far from being nostalgic, I just think about it, and once more conclude that after having a hard time as an adolescent, everything turned out to get better over the years, and I am glad I can enjoy the post-modernism of getting drunk at a gin tonic promo booth in a warehouse at 3 p.m. yesterday, and defending austereness the day before, and whistling along with the fiddles on that Tindersticks tape, while being close to beating the gruel out of that inevitable hippie bongo player across the street.