by Mari Gomez

Aside from most people finding this event to be a perfect place to display multiple body piercings, ridiculous mohawks, busting out the leather jacket and possibly discovering a coincidental high school reunion, or, in my case, a chance to see again from afar those who were too cool for me in high school – the Henry Rollins performance on Saturday turned out to be somewhat of a trip along the meandering paths of sociological curiosity.

Having listened to many of his Spoken Word albums in my youth, seeing the man in person was only a confirmation of the power and energy that a good storyteller carries.

Here’s a fifty year old white guy with tattoos, holding a microphone, nothing else on stage, venting about injustice, politicians, absurd circumstances, and random, but comedic situations he finds himself in during his many excursions abroad. And one might wonder why anyone would care what someone like Henry Rollins has to say about, well, the world, but his talking tours, especially in the last few years, certainly involve a little more than just random rants about stuff.

Last night’s show he began by “clearing the air,” as he put it, and asking “why haven’t I been here before?” A question, if I remember correctly Jeff Tweedy asked the audience when WILCO played the Civic Center last summer.

As Rollins pointed out, our geographical position puts us in a bit of a unique situation; thus, we are often over looked. In any case, Rollins seemed grateful and probably rather surprised that the modest sized auditorium was filled.

Mr. Rollins began with the subject of freedoms and hypocrisy in our day and age. He spoke of the appreciation for the kind of freedoms that allows him to hold a microphone in his hands and the kind that allows someone like David Duke to do what he does. “I can agree and disagree with you, but I don’t think you should go to prison for it,” Rollins said talking about Duke who was arrested for preaching white supremacy in the Czech Republic. Mr. Rollins went on to say, “I try to be in awe and fear of the freedoms I’ve been given.”

One of the most touching moments was when Mr. Rollins went on a rant about how he got chosen by a group of graduating college students to be their commencement speaker. Rollins, who casually admits being only a high school graduate, talked about his panic and the nerve racking process of writing the speech, his experience with the skeptical conservative intellectuals as he shows up to the ceremony with his tattoos, and his awkwardness in sporting a badly fitted cap and gown.

All that didn’t matter in the end because the coolest thing of all was seeing all these young faces receiving their diploma. As he said, it is important that America be smart and educated, it is important that America ask questions, and challenge, and be informed, and remove the idea that Americans are ignorant.

Curiosity is a big thing for Rollins. He advocates traveling, finding things out for yourself, or as he says, “actualizing ideas.” And indeed, it’s a sad reality when people get older and settle into these molds of life, how they run the risk of losing the curiosity and anger that often leads people to defining things for themselves, thus leading to personal growth.

Rollins talked about everything from his experience with a wax model of the first lady, to a Thanksgiving dinner at William Shatner’s house, to judging some kind of transsexual fashion show for Rupaul, (and strangely being turned on by it), to playing a white supremacist on the show “Sons of Anarchy,” and ending with anecdotes of his trips across the Middle East.

Underlying most of his stories however, is a familiar pattern of ideas that Rollins has often explored before. Despite the fact that he is, considered by some, somewhat of a punk icon there is a kind of hopefulness and optimism in his words, in his attitude. As he made clear last night, “cynicism is a cop out.” Cynicism he said was for people who had already given up, who are lazy. He constantly uses the phrase, “I’m not putting it down,” which is an indication of his mere attempt to understand things that might be strange to him, that it is ok to disagree, to be baffled, while not judgmental or bitter.

The man talked for three hours without a drink of water. That in itself is impressive. He doesn’t move around the stage, he picks his place and he grounds himself there, transmitting intensity with his voice and words. His use of language is completely his own: eloquent, articulate, and clever. He might take, at most, a step forward or back, or to the side. Rollins has developed by now, after years of these kinds of tours, his own style, his groove, but it doesn’t downplay the fact that a good story, well told, enthusiastic, and funny is a craft so often lost in our society of short text messages and what are sometimes even shorter attention spans.