Rock Zombie (Pennsylvania Trip Pt. 1)

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Here is my confession:

I enjoy zombie movies. Zombie movies are an entire subgenre of horror movies, but I do relish horror movies. Zombie movies, however (I sound like a professor…high brow profession, low brown obsession) speak to me as they are the ultimate metaphor for our modern society.

Wait for it; it’s going to get super pretentious. Ready?

Zombie movies are about the masses, the hordes and herds that shuffle on, hungry for something they just can’t obtain. Sounds like all of us in North America on a Monday morning. That slightly defeated amble…clearly you can tell we’re not racing towards greatness much less destiny, just a dim witted manager and an obtuse photocopier. Who has time for destiny when there are bills to be paid? Who has time for greatness when family life beckons? But wait…there is more! That’s how potent this metaphor is! Who fights the grumbling zombie multitude? The living…powerful beings all the more determined to thrive—of course always outnumbered but now entrusted with rebuilding our shattered society. I’m telling you…zombie movies are our society, the reflection you’d see in a mirror. If you won’t buy into that then accept that zombie movies are a reflection of a rock n roll band.

We leave the herd behind (the zombies) packing up our gear and hopes and heading off to brave new destinations in hopes of finding the Living. A rock n roll band is nothing—no matter how great its songs are—if they don’t connect with individuals. Want to know something kooky about this whole rock profession? Connecting with people on stage is…well easy. There are enough theatrical tricks and tips, lights and all kinds of hypnotic elements you can use to capture your audience’s attention. Heck anybody who’s jangled their keys in a baby’s face knows how easy it is to capture a person’s attention. But offstage, at a party, at a bar…trying to plug into a person’s world, trying to understand their worth and what they bring to the global party we call Earth…why that’s just a full time job. Ask anybody who is married. But that’s what successful bands do: connect well.

And what better place to bond than a land with 330 million plus people: America. So off we go, Big Red loaded up once again, leaving behind the zombie masses and taking off for…Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. All aboard!! There sam Hell had been selected to perform at the 12th annual Millennium Music Conference and Showcase. It’s always such an honour to get in…now we just gotta actually get there. Surprisingly crossing the border was easy. This time: Peace Bridge lived up to its name. As we sped along, hurtling past mountains, Penn State dorms, semi-trucks and slow old people in chunky American cars we were clearly making good time. Apparently really good time, thought the one police officer who flashed us his red and blue.

Sigh. Damn the man and his rules!

Just like in the movies. He’s approaching Big Red cautiously on the driver’s side from the rear, popping the strap on his gun hostler, like a gunslinger he’s ready to draw and fire. sam Hell says to me: “I’ll do the talking.” Works for me…I sit there and try to look über innocent.

Again just like in the movies: “Do you know how fast you were going?”

sam Hell opened his mouth to respond and it all came rushing out. About Canadian cars and their speedometers in kilometers not miles. About being in a rock band and about going to perform at a rock festival. About the value of performing and rock n roll. When he was all done, the kind police officer, shook his head, handed back sam’s driver license and let us off with a warning. Just like in the movies.

Sometimes people who don’t believe in ghosts will just dismiss something as the wind. Sometimes people who don’t believe in God will say we’re just lucky. sam and I believe in God. Setting off cautiously and slowly, making much less time we arrive. Not at the music festival. Oh no. At Glen and Wanda’s home. And that’s when things get really interesting…

(to be continued…)

Sammy