These young men demonstrate the correct way to safely enter a fray.
I’VE got fond memories of mosh pits and flying lemming-like from stages, particularly of having a salty pash with a young Glaswegian sporting a wilting green mohican at a Rollins Band show; in the eye of a storm of blurred elbows. I lost him when I had to find my mum outside.
Today, though, I’m braving a mosh pit stone cold sober. It’s not really by choice. My cohort, of Day Three, has already screamed at Chris Cheney of The Living End, abused the door chick and bounced off several walls, so when she heads off down front of the Reverend Horton Heat’s pit, I feel obliged to stand guard.
Within minutes of the gig starting, someone has launched a beer over my head that I’m convinced is meant for my enthusiastic friend. Oblivious, she loses herself in the melee of elderly bequiffed men and staunch Betty Pagers. It’s a fairly polite melee though. Nobody takes their shirt off, although there are a few blokes in sweat-soaked singlets around the edges who take advantage of a sudden surge to do their own peculiar body-contact dance.
A girl with a mohican and a dog collar grabs my young charge and starts jumping up and down with her, which marks the fourth mohican I’ve seen in two days. They’re perfect for eye-gouging in pits, HOWEVER, this girl has soaped her long hair up without having the regulation shaved sides. This is completely unacceptable, and I’m tempted to tap her on the shoulder and let her know. I would have rather DIED than do that at her age, and I’d have deserved it. Youth of today, grumble grumble…
Keeper? Down front IS more enjoyable than up back, yes. How did I forget this over the centuries? Next time will attempt a salty pash in a mosh pit stone cold sober.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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