Sometimes, things just suck.

It's the painful, yet unavoidable problem that we all must face... we are getting older. As father time inches closer and closer to us we can't help but see all of the things that meant something to us when we were younger either grow distant, or in some cases disappear. Of course, for some these are severe changes, for some subtle changes, but for most of us it tends to land right in the middle.

I was fortunate enough to have a time in my life (approx. ages 17-21) where music mattered more to me than anything in the world. Where trips to other cities were always about music first, many times getting home bruised and battered at four in the morning only to wake for work at 830. I can remember living in a townhouse with my friend Aaron, being forced to crawl up the stairs to my bedroom after a night of furious dancing had all but shut down my muscular system. I'd never felt better... and many of these guys were at fault.


Obviously, those times are gone. Some of the people that shared those days with me are married, living on the other side of the country, or in some cases no longer with us. We've parted ways and moved on, we have new lives, and we've had new experiences. Some of us are still in regular contact (that reminds me to call Matt tonight), some of us are almost strangers these days. However, nothing is stranger to me than what has become of the once proud home of these bands... Bogart's.

I can remember like yesterday standing in the cold, lined up around the block, fighting off bums and gutter punks for the twenty dollars in my pocket. We expected the car to be towed, we expected to get punched in the face, we expected to fall down, hurt our heads, and come up covered in someone else's bodily fluid... and we couldn't have been more excited.

The drive was long, seemed even longer on the way home. However, nothing could beat the feeling of the Cincinnati Skyline sliding up on the horizon. It seemed like grass and trees for hours, then like a beautiful mirage the city was looming on the horizon... welcome to Ohio, you've made it, paradise was just a few exits and one nightmare parking situation away.

The doors would open on the same dirty club that you'd seen a thousand times, but each time seemed brand new. Make your way past the terribly unpleasant security guards, fork over your ticket, and when you see this sign, you're in.

These days Bogart's bills itself as a cleaner cut all around rock club. Long gone are the acts like NOFX, Bad Religion, Teen Idols, Suicide Machines, and The Mad Caddies. We've traded them away for Darryl Worley, Michelle Branch, Hanson, Aaron Carter, and something called the Nintendo Fusion Tour.

Of course, I realize that I can't suspend time or ask everything to stay exactly as it was almost a decade ago. I can, however, spend the next ten years bitching about how it did... and that's exactly what I plan to do.