I haven’t done that much damage to my hearing since I decided that shooting a .44 Magnum without ear muffs would be fine.

The Dropkick Murphys show was incredible. A few weeks ago, Sharon told me they were doing a 21-gun salute before the show (seven people, three Irish Car Bombs each). We wound up pre-gaming at my place. I was figuring on eight or nine people, but there were around 25 people here, including my younger brother Eric. We drank for about an hour before heading for the gym.

Three Days Grace wasn’t that bad, but I wasn’t paying much attention to them. We spent most of their set flipping them off, but it didn’t work.

After the changeover between sets, the Rochester Scottish Pipes & Drums came on and played for five or ten minutes, which was pretty cool. I didn’t even know Rochester HAD a pipes & drums crew, but they were fun to watch.

When Dropkick came on, I was about three rows back from the barricade with Eric. The entire crowd started swaying around us - if people weren’t packed in so tight, everyone would have gone down. That kind of sucked, so I turned around and hopped into the pit behind us that was doing all the pushing. This was the first show I’ve actually been in the pit for, and I tell ya, you get thirsty in there. And sweaty. It was a sweaty, stinky show, but it was incredible.

At some point I got punched in the neck, and something happened to my right thigh and left wrist, but I’m not sure what - I just know they hurt. I must have caught an elbow in the chest at some point too, because my solar plexus hurts when I touch it. I boosted Heise at one point, and he managed to work his way to the front and high-five the singer. For the last song of the encore (Skinhead on the MBTA), he jumped off stage and sang from the bleachers. I didn’t see him do it, so when everyone rushed to the right at the beginning of the song, I just figured it was some kind of punk concert thing I didn’t understand, like circle pits.

After limping my way back here with Eric, BP, and Lisa, we went to Mark’s for plates. This morning I woke up with no voice, a sore body, and a huge mess of a kitchen. I cleaned up 24 bottles and 14 cans of Guinness, around three 6-packs of other beer, about 8 bottles of Fonny’s Ukrainian beer, and two bottles each of Jameson and Bailey’s (but I don’t know how much was in those when we started). I just found another four pack of Guinness cans in the fridge that wouldn’t have survived the storm if they hadn’t been tucked behind some juice and stuff, so I’ve got lunch for the week.

It was an incredible night. I just found out that there are still tickets for the Wednesday night show before St. Patty’s Day in Boston. I’d like to go, but we’ll have to see what happens.