​Speaking of self defense . . .

. . . Maddogssis-in-law reminded me of this event a few years ago:

Heart Concert Setlists Portland Memorial Colosseum August 24, 1977 MaddogsGF at the time, brer, and sis-in-law all went to this concert. I was in a mood. A couple of attractive young women sat in the seats in front of us and off to the left a bit. They dropped their stuff, and walked down to talk with some friends. It was all arena (free-fer-all) seating back then. Within 20 minutes all the good seats were taken, and two tough dudes wander by, and decide to take the chicks seats. They toss their stuff into the aisle, the chicks took offense, and there was a confrontation. One of the dudes pushed the chicks around a bit. ​

More below.

Did I say I was in a mood? I was in a mood. So, I reached down and grabbed tough guy by the hair, and jerked him around to face me, then told him to F-Off. He was unamused, and he told me so. We exchanged pleasantries for a few seconds before I told him this was last call, he could leave or I would take him out, whole or in pieces, I didn't much care. 

His buddy was a more sensible sort, and kept after him to leave, but tough guy had some butthurt to iron out. So he started ironing. He took a swing, which missed, I pushed him, and he fell over the back of the seats in a slump between the seats below. Now he was really pissed. So he charged back up, and slipped a knife out of his pocket. He was an idiot. He stood their with the knife at his side for a few seconds, before pocketing it again. I pulled my knife, snapped it open, and said, "Let's go." This shocked him pretty deeply. We had a bit of a "discussion" about the length of his life as I saw it, and in the end I took his knife. His buddy who was apoplectic by then, pulled him away fast. I expect they missed the concert. Did I say I was in a mood? 

I expected a good concert, it was Heart's first Portland gig, but it was one of the wildest concerts I ever attended. A young strung out woman dancing on the Jersey Barrier at the back of the venue, fell off fracturing her skull, delaying the concert start. The guys sitting next to the two chicks who nearly lost their seats were burning spliffs, and inhaling ether. One dropped the canister of ether for the third time, then reached down, joint in hand, and touched off a massive fireball. People for three rows in both directions scattered. By the end of the gig, the producer had run up the sound so much, both banks of speakers were actually on fire, and roadies were running around the stage with fire extinguishers trying to put out the burning speakers. 

All while Heart played its finale. 

Here is the weird thing about this story, until sis-in-law triggered my memory a few years ago (she wanted me to tell the story during a dinner party we were throwing) I completely forgot this story. When she started to tell it, I remembered it again. This wasn't the first time, or last, I had to fight fire, er, knife, with knife. I suspect I did not remember it because no one got hurt, more honestly, I did not get cut. 

How I ever lived long enough to become an adult, is beyond me.