“I was there, Virgil,” I declared solemnly between mouthfuls of cheesesteak at Grazie Grazie, grease indelicately dripping onto wax paper. “Some 20 years ago, at the 9:30 Club, when Roadrunner Records anointed their chosen son, Matt Heafy, with Dimebag Darrell’s guitar, and a very illegal shot of whiskey for an underage minor, to honor the late legend. I bore witness.”
Virgil, unimpressed, dipped his fries in the house-made cheese whiz. “You know,” he retorted, “I think you’ve mentioned it before.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mock me all you want, but that night felt important. I was a fresh-faced DJ at Mary Wash’s WMWC, getting into concerts for free and playing these bands in heavy rotation. It was a rite of passage for college radio.”