Seems I’m taking the stroll down Memory Lane an awful lot lately; complete with the preamble, “why, back in MY day…”. So, it’s Fatboy Slim’s 48th birthday today. My BFF Patrick and I went to the Showbox in Seattle (back in 1998, when there was only ONE Showbox–none of this Showbox SODO vs. Showbox at the Market crap).
If I recall correctly, I was 37, and I think Patrick had just barely hit his early 20’s at the time. It was freezing rain outside of The Showbox. After a good long shift in the men’s department at Nordstrom where we both worked, off to the club we drove. I swear to this day, I’ve never been so sweaty in All. My. Life. And the steam from the crowd was visible and strange.
We weren’t packed in like sardines, as much as were were smooshed in like Meeps from Spongebob Squarepants. I swear, though. No alcohol (or anything else!) was being ingested (by ME, anyway). Only WATER. Lots and lots of water…and that was rude of you to insinuate otherwise!
So, yeah. Happy birthday, Norman Cook!