A friend and colleague invited us to his punk band’s first show yesterday evening, held in a metalworks shop. My husband wore a jean jacket and took photos. I wore ear plugs and bobbed my head at approximately 200 beats per minute. Together, we traveled back nearly twenty years and it was glorious. As we drove to pick up our son from youth group, windows down to rid our clothes of other people’s smoke, I smiled out loud. The roots are what make us who we are, twenty years and five thousand miles later.
2022
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