Major Matt Mason USA: Show Poem from 01/08/14 @ Davey’s Uptown (KCMO)

I wouldn’t say that I’m a party animal but I like parties. Especially at people’s houses. I don’t mean those kids birthday parties with the parents. I’m talking about the unsupervised kind where people just hang and get loose. My first real party was a 7^th grade school play cast party. I remember playing a game with a group of girls in the basement that involved some kind of synchronized hand gestures accompanied with high kicks and some sort of cheer leading type chant. I don’t recall much about it aside from the word “Bananas” being used. Anway, I was the life of the party due to the sole fact that this wasn’t an activity that girls typically did with boys. And the fact that I had crossed over from this mystically defined gender roll I was getting a great deal of attention, which was exactly what I need at the time. It was at this moment that I learned a very important lesson in how sometimes crossing lines is a great way to attract the things you need.

Flash forward about 5 years to a party at my friend Brian’s house where an even more free atmosphere was taking place in the form of some very effective LSD that I had consumed. Funnily enough it was just 2 miles from where my that first cast party had taken place. Brian’s parties were legendary. The freaks always came out in full force and there was always plenty of chemical, herbal, and alcoholic line-crossing inspiration to go around. Unfortunately, for me an ex-girlfriend had shown up to the party. She had clearly had too much to drink. I said hello and before I knew it she was sitting on my chest with her hands around my throat murmuring the phrase: “Who are you?” over and over again. I could feel her thumbs sinking into my neck and disappearing into my skin. Oddly enough I wasn’t freaking out and felt somewhat calm. I remember being more worried for her because of what this gesture would do for her image once the word got out.  Finally people caught on that this was not just horse play and pulled her off me before I reached the point of blacking out. I sat in the corner the rest of the night talking to various strangers with wide assortments of shaved and colored hair styles. At one point an older guy in a black leather jacket who’s face looked like it was sliding off  his skull sat down next to me. He was drinking a beer from what looked like an oil can and had a safety pin in one ear. There was an acoustic guitar in the corner next to me that I’d been previously strumming the only 3 cords I knew on for what seemed hours. The face melting man asked me if I minded if he played it. I said, “Sure, no problem.” He put down his beer, sat the guitar on his knee and played this song…