The Pocono Mountain Region, long known as the Honeymoon Capitol of the world, is not what the brochures promise. The only culture we have here is a Wal-Mart and weâ€™re more known for our bar scene and champagne glass bathtubs than for our artistic integrity.
Thankfully about 10 years ago a punk band came onto the scene (Feeble, anyone remember them?), a club opened up that welcomed bands like Snapcase, Earth Crisis, and Shift, and a whole slew of kids migrated from power ballads and mullets to independent record labels and all-ages shows.
Now 10 years later Henry Rollins comes to the areas big college campus. About 900 people braved the early evening drizzle and enjoyed over two hours of Henry Rollins complaining, mocking, and basically telling it like it is.
Iâ€™m not saying Henry Rollins is angry â€“ he said it. Iâ€™m not putting any words into his mouth. No way. A few minutes after he started speaking a girl was standing to his left, taking his picture. Without warning his story telling stops and it begins,
â€śOkay, youâ€™re done.â€ť
This girl, since he started talking, was clicking away and it irked him. There was no debate. His voice didnâ€™t rise and there was no fire breathing. This was just Henry Rollins letting someone know how he felt.
â€śSheâ€™s been taking my picture from a bad angle,â€ť he continues. The crowd had a good laugh but I couldnâ€™t help feel for that girl.
A few minutes later and the auditorium staff are raising some sound baffle. Then they lowered it again. It was loud and I noticed it. People across the aisle noticed it, and God no â€“ Mr. Rollins noticed it.
â€śWhoever the fuck that is you better stop.â€ť
I wasnâ€™t even doing anything and I wanted to pee my pants. The thing is Henry Rollins is 42, and heâ€™s tired of playing nice. If youâ€™re going to be disruptive at one of his performances youâ€™re going to endure the wrath.