‘It doesn’t make sense, but it’s what we do’: Tales from Inkcarceration’s pre-party

MANSFIELD — A former prison worker, a couple of homesteaders, a dude from outside Chicago and a few regulars walked into the Warehouse Tavern on East Fourth Street.

Through the smoky downtown Mansfield streets — and I’m not just talking about these Canadian fires — these were the folks I found myself with on Thursday night at Inkcarceration’s official pre-party on a closed-off section of blacktop.

“We’re from Central Pennsylvania, near Indiana, Pa., we’re homesteaders, off-gridders, do everything off the land and we’re metalheads,” couple Isaac and Andy said.

“It doesn’t make sense, but it’s what we do.”

The “it doesn’t make sense, but we do it anyway” mentality might be the perfect way to describe the pre-party’s atmosphere.

The first of six bands for the night, Cleveland-native Unsettled, closed their set by launching a “Despicable Me” minion piñata into the crowd.

People in various shades of dark clothing pounced on it, ripped it wide open and claimed cash and candy. It made no sense, but that’s what metalheads do.

Phillip Ross, a local who used to work the doors of the former Ohio State Reformatory during previous Ink festivals, said some of the guys got “rowdy” during the afternoons of the festival, but chilled out enough for him to enjoy the music late into the night.

I suppose you could say that makes some sense, but it certainly surprised me and made me laugh.

Another metalhead at the pre-party journeyed from outside Chicago to join the rage-filled fun. Holding back a couple of chuckles, he said his ex-sister-in-law got him so hooked on Ink for the first time last year, he came back by himself this year.

I’m sure these stories merely scratch the surface of funky fun at Ink, but man, it made me laugh and learn to expect the unexpected heading into my first Ink trip.

But not everyone at the pre-party goes to Ink

Time and time again, I ran into Warehouse Tavern regulars who simply said the local watering hole is their home bar. They had no intention of going to Ink, and added, “We don’t care who comes, we just like to hear the music.”

To that I say — that rocks.

You may not have a ticket to Ink this weekend. You may not enjoy metal all that much.

But, coming down to your favorite local bar, throwing back a couple of cold ones with your friends, bobbing your head a little, and supporting the metalheads, bands and local businesses who love Ink so much is super cool in my book.

I mean, even the former prison worker wasn’t going to Ink this weekend. He just came to the pre-party to support his buddy in Unsettled. That rocks.

I covered Sonic Temple Music and Arts Festival in Columbus this past May and learned metalheads are some of the nicest and most supportive people I’ve ever met.

Despite the dark and stormy personas, the weird backstories, the menacing get-ups and anger-fueled lyrics, metalheads are beyond approachable and just want everyone to have some fun.

I didn’t expect anything less coming into Ink, but the local pride in the festival from those going to the festival, and those who aren’t, was a welcome surprise.

I’m sure Thursday’s pre-party was just a taste of what I know I’ll experience soon.

I can’t wait to meet more people who deep down are genuine people who love this music, this place and these people so much — despite the unapproachable, punk, “get out of my room, mom” appearance.