Call me a scrooge, but I generally consider Christmas parties to be an obligatory affair. Sure, it’s great to catch up with people you haven’t seen in a while, but I’m not that person who jumps with excitement when the group caroling begins. However, this year I have to give some major props to my friend Bill for throwing the best holiday party in recent memory. He not only managed to convince his wife that an ice luge was necessary, but he also confirmed that I have more dumb luck than anyone in the world.

Did I mention that one of Bill’s neighbors happens to be none other than Ian MacKaye of Minor Threat and Fugazi? I don’t think there’s a clearer definition of dumb luck. Especially since my overall knowledge of the hardcore scene of the late ’80s/early ’90s is seriously lacking (I was five). Frankly, I still can’t believe he even shook my hand.

During the fifteen minutes in which he was trapped in conversation with me we talked about random stuff like downloading free music (he’s ok with it), his lament that the digital revolution leaves me unable to name the label that released TV on the Radio’s Dear Science (I write for a music site?), and his insistence that he only listens to spiritual music (his radio has been off since the ’80s).

By spiritual music, MacKaye doesn’t mean music you hear at church. He means music that comes from individuals who make music because they have to. Those people who physically need to create in order to survive (Fela Kuti got a specific mention). Which makes sense when you’re talking to someone who founded his own label in 1980, has been in eight bands (that I know of), and remains one of the biggest advocates of the straight-edge philosophy.

MacKaye still refuses to play at any venue that charges over $10 or limits attendance based on age – one of the few things I actually knew before meeting him. His insistence that the inspiration and message of his music not be tainted or limited by the agendas of establishments has inspired droves of musicians in D.C. and around the world. As this video demonstrates, the guy means business:

When MacKaye eventually asked me if I played music, I replied simply: “I did.” Man, was that the wrong thing to say to someone who lives his passion every single day. Even though I’ve never met him before, he gave me a guilt trip worthy of old friends, reminding me to do what I love at all costs, even if it means driving a newspaper delivery truck in northern Virginia for eight years so that you can have the freedom to start your own record label (yes, that’s how Dischord started). I shoved a pig in a blanket in my mouth to hide any visible signs of regret and shook my head in agreement.

As I said, we only got to talk for fifteen minutes. But what MacKaye managed to impress upon a total stranger in such a small amount of time made so much sense that it was painful. I guess what I’m trying to say is don’t let anything stop you from achieving greatness, don’t let anything stop you from doing what you love. In fact, go ahead and add it to your list of New Year’s resolutions. It’s obvious, but sometimes it takes a slap in the face to get going – or maybe just a chat with Ian MacKaye.

If you haven’t been keeping tabs on Mr. MacKaye, he’s been playing in a two-piece called The Evens…

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