Alright, so I went to the Dave Matthews Starlake opener last night. It was also his summer kickoff show. Honestly, I had no idea I was going, let alone driving. I met up with Heather and Sarah at the salsafied cafe and was convinced to attend. Then, encouraged to play the usual role of limo driver, except, via Subaru. Our group was semi-disorganized, yet sturdy and determined. Fortunately, I cleaned out my car the day before - it was a pig sty. We made it to the lot around 6pm and hooked up with The Dub and his crew. Nearby was Jenn, Amanda and her crew. Taligated for a bit and I snagged a mail order ticket off some dude in the lot for $20. I thought about working the buy and sell angle but just didn't feel like it. Jenn was envious of my mail order ticket and wanted to trade for her standard one. I declined - an omen of things to come.
They all went into the show as I finished off a beer. When I went to the old lady scanning the tickets, she scanned and it came back negative. No fucking beep noise. "Are you kidding me?" She looks down at the ticket and explains it's for Saturday, the following night. I'm a little astonished. I never bothered to check the date. I just assumed it was a go, especially since it was a mail order. So I gather my wits and head back to the dumpster area and look for a ticket. Very little action at this point, since it was going into the third song. I ran into this one guy and he offers me a ticket for $30. I try to get him down to $20, but I'm tired of haggling and I give him the thirty. I bum another beer, drink it, and head down to the same old lady. "Alright, let's try this one." She scans it. No fuckin' beep. She softly explains, "I'm sorry sir, this ticket has already been used." This time I'm pissed, not at her, but at myself. I let that fuckhead sell me a used ticket. UNBELIEVABLE. What am I? Some kind of concert going newbie.
Anyway, I take a deep breath and head back to the car. There's group of 4 people hanging out near my car in the VIP lot. They sense my dismay and this one guy asks me, "Hey, what's up?" I respond, "You don't want to know." This guys is just like me, looking for a floorshow or some side entertainment. I go into the prolonged explanation of how I got a ticket for the wrong night and then bunked. His girlfreind says they have an extra and she insists on giving it to me. He tries to charge me for it but she insists. Alright, so I get miracled at a DMB show and the original Saturday mail order ticket is still usable, even though it was scanned.
I missed about 5 songs but made up for it with about 3 extra beers. I squirmed my way to the box seats where my original crew was. KILLER seats. Definitely among the best. As for the show itself, hats off too Jenn D. for calling the Don't Drink The Water opener. She studies these DMB setlists though. I blame myself. I think she takes after me with the Dead setlists.
I thought the show could have been a bit stronger song-wise but there was some great energy. I don't care for Grey Street as one of their closer songs. I thought the encore would be the song about his sister, but I was thinking Grace is Gone - it turned out to be the other song about his sister. I was surprised by the small crowd. The grass lot and VIP sections were a little over half full. Kind of low for a nice weather Friday night. Maybe it's the economy, but hey, isn't Dave the king of the rich-white-college-girl crowd? That's actualy why I like him - DMB is a marketing machine. F'in A.
The ride home took an extra half hour. I'm not going to explore this part of the night in print. Dropped everyone off at the house and hit the Alpha. I'm taking my crew up to Pittsburgh today. They just want dropped off and they're going to dinner and the Penguins game #4. I'll pick them up around midnight. Guess where I'll be in the interim? That's right - round 2. Can't let that ticket go to waste. I think it may be the first time in the history of Starlake that someone shows up in an empty limo. Dare to dream...
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
2 more
Yep, 2 more dreams from last night. There was a third dream, but I forget what it consisted of. The first dream was VERY brief. Meowee was chasing a mouse through the house into my bathroom. The mouse jumped into the toilet and Meowee went in after it. I was trying to prevent Meowee from literally being flushed down the toilet. It was kind of like a George Jetson type atmosphere (Jane get me off this crazy thing). My feet are braced against the base of the toilet and I'm grabbing, pulling and trying to restrain the cat. It was a very "cartoon-like" atmosphere. My hands are around her midsection. Then it abruptly ends. Something of note - another dream with a mouse that has some kind of death wish or is dead.
The other dream was more distinctive. I'm shopping at Reisbeck's in the Elm Grove Crossing Mall. Incidentally, I worked there back in late high school/early college. About 3 years. There was an incident where this old guy getting a newspaper. I was about to go on break and said, "do you mind if snag one of these." He screamed, "Oh no you don't and slammed the newspaper machine door on my hand." Then, I said something to the affect, "You asshole, what the fuck is wrong with you." He complained to my boss. I wasn't fired but they reduced my hours to one day a week - so basically, it became a joke to work there. All that has nothing to do with the dream, just some background info.
Anyway, I'm in the store doing some shopping. No recollection of the contents of the shopping cart. I ran into a guy I know named Chris and another one named Dan. We made small chit-chat as we went through the checkout line. I'm almost out of the store, and I run into another guy I know named Dave. He discreetly tells me that he has just shoplifted 6 chocolate bars. He opens his jean jacket and there are a bunch of regular Hershey bars. I say something like , "Good for you." We both start out the door and a siren goes off, and somebody over the sound system says, "Code Red" or "Emergency"." I forgert the exact wording. Anyway, this black employee about 25-30 yrs old who resmebles this guy I know also named Dan, puts me in a headlock and tells me I have to come with him. He walks me to the back. I don't resist but just am kind of "along for the ride." We enter the storage area in the back and that's where it pretty much ends. I think I said something like, "You'll never find anything on me. I didn't take anything."
The other dream was more distinctive. I'm shopping at Reisbeck's in the Elm Grove Crossing Mall. Incidentally, I worked there back in late high school/early college. About 3 years. There was an incident where this old guy getting a newspaper. I was about to go on break and said, "do you mind if snag one of these." He screamed, "Oh no you don't and slammed the newspaper machine door on my hand." Then, I said something to the affect, "You asshole, what the fuck is wrong with you." He complained to my boss. I wasn't fired but they reduced my hours to one day a week - so basically, it became a joke to work there. All that has nothing to do with the dream, just some background info.
Anyway, I'm in the store doing some shopping. No recollection of the contents of the shopping cart. I ran into a guy I know named Chris and another one named Dan. We made small chit-chat as we went through the checkout line. I'm almost out of the store, and I run into another guy I know named Dave. He discreetly tells me that he has just shoplifted 6 chocolate bars. He opens his jean jacket and there are a bunch of regular Hershey bars. I say something like , "Good for you." We both start out the door and a siren goes off, and somebody over the sound system says, "Code Red" or "Emergency"." I forgert the exact wording. Anyway, this black employee about 25-30 yrs old who resmebles this guy I know also named Dan, puts me in a headlock and tells me I have to come with him. He walks me to the back. I don't resist but just am kind of "along for the ride." We enter the storage area in the back and that's where it pretty much ends. I think I said something like, "You'll never find anything on me. I didn't take anything."
Sunday, May 25, 2008
another dream
I took a very rare afternoon nap and just had another dream. This one was incredibly brief. I was entering the Walmart in St. Clairsville. As I approached the door, I see this motorized wheelchair coming from the other direction. There's a woman sittting in it, but her body is disconnected. No arms, no legs, no torso - IT'S JUST A HEAD. The rest of her body is right next to the head, somewhat slumped over. This guy entering the building looks at me and lamentably says, "Ohhhh, she's fucked."
The head was relatively ugly. It looked a bit like a friend's mom. I don't want to say who because I referred to the head as ugly. If I see you in person, I'd probably be willing to share who it is.
I remember thinking to myself in the dream, "How on earth does the deatched headed person get around so well." Then, I wake up.
I think there's a correlation between this dream and the last dream with the mouse. Obviously, both dreams had disfigurement issues.
The head was relatively ugly. It looked a bit like a friend's mom. I don't want to say who because I referred to the head as ugly. If I see you in person, I'd probably be willing to share who it is.
I remember thinking to myself in the dream, "How on earth does the deatched headed person get around so well." Then, I wake up.
I think there's a correlation between this dream and the last dream with the mouse. Obviously, both dreams had disfigurement issues.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
another dream
Sure enough, I had another dream last night. Like I said, I rarely dream these days and if I do, I usually don't remember them. I'm sitting at a bar with Paulie Goutiellrie and Christopher Multisanti from the Sopranos. The bar looks a lot like the one in the movie Good Fellas - the scene where they kill that made guy "Bats" in Queens. Oddly enough, Bats is the New York boss on the Sopranos. I seem to be playing the role of Bats, or at the very least, I'm sitting in his seat. A converstaion emerges between the 3 of us and Chris challenges me to eat a mouse. I tell him that will require $360 or $380, I forget. Then, I come to the realization that they want me to eat a live mouse. I tell them it must be dead, and they start laughing. Chris leans behind the counter and grabs a dead mouse and places it in a plastic shot glass. I look at it and it's pretty mangled. Mostly made of head and tail. It seems to be missing most of its body. I ask them where the money is and Chris reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of crumpled bills -roughly $18. As I unfurl the bills there's a little more in there. About another $10 or so. I look at them both and say that it's insufficient or something to that affect. And that's where the dream ends.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
dreams
For the past 2 night, I've had dreams of impending personal danger and destruction. Very rarely do I even remember the content of my dreams, but these were both extremely vivid and both caused me to wake up.
On Sunday night, I dreamt I was skateboarding down a hill that looked a lot like 2 mile Hill (Dallas Pike). However, the hill was sloped differently. As though, I was starting at the Highlands and going down eastward. I never been able to operate a skateboard effectively. As I approach the bottom, the road turns into a swamp and I end up wearing a pair of roller blades. I'm trying to navigate through the swamp - it reminded me of a picture of the Puget Sound in Oregon. And of course I start sinking and getting bogged down. When I feel as though I'm totally helpless and sinking, I wake up.
Last night, I dreamt I was on the front porch of a house in a prairie like setting and I spot a tornado off in the distance. I ask a man in the house (not sure who it was) how far off he thinks the tornado is. He says, "I don't know" and then I say "seems like the distance from Wheeling to Wellsburg." The house is a standard brick colonial (probably 4 bedroom/2 bath). I suggest we'd better head inside as a few other tornadoes have started to form (same distance). We retreat into the living room and there's woman (not sure who it was) staring out the window and she says something to the affect of "Oh god, look at all the other ones coming." I stare out the living room window and there's probably about a dozen funnel clouds approaching. That's when I wake up.
Maybe once a year or so, I have a nightmare where I wake up in a sweat. I wasn't perspiring on either occasion, but I was definitely unsettled and agitated. I'm curious to see if another dream hits me tonight.
I neglected to mention, in the second dream, when I retreat into the house, I try to shut the door, but there's no knob or handle. I manage to close it for the most part. The flap at the base of the floor is awkwardly sticking up. It's made of a black rubbery plastic composite.
On Sunday night, I dreamt I was skateboarding down a hill that looked a lot like 2 mile Hill (Dallas Pike). However, the hill was sloped differently. As though, I was starting at the Highlands and going down eastward. I never been able to operate a skateboard effectively. As I approach the bottom, the road turns into a swamp and I end up wearing a pair of roller blades. I'm trying to navigate through the swamp - it reminded me of a picture of the Puget Sound in Oregon. And of course I start sinking and getting bogged down. When I feel as though I'm totally helpless and sinking, I wake up.
Last night, I dreamt I was on the front porch of a house in a prairie like setting and I spot a tornado off in the distance. I ask a man in the house (not sure who it was) how far off he thinks the tornado is. He says, "I don't know" and then I say "seems like the distance from Wheeling to Wellsburg." The house is a standard brick colonial (probably 4 bedroom/2 bath). I suggest we'd better head inside as a few other tornadoes have started to form (same distance). We retreat into the living room and there's woman (not sure who it was) staring out the window and she says something to the affect of "Oh god, look at all the other ones coming." I stare out the living room window and there's probably about a dozen funnel clouds approaching. That's when I wake up.
Maybe once a year or so, I have a nightmare where I wake up in a sweat. I wasn't perspiring on either occasion, but I was definitely unsettled and agitated. I'm curious to see if another dream hits me tonight.
I neglected to mention, in the second dream, when I retreat into the house, I try to shut the door, but there's no knob or handle. I manage to close it for the most part. The flap at the base of the floor is awkwardly sticking up. It's made of a black rubbery plastic composite.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Balance
Over the past 2 decades, I've often been asked about my nonbeliever status. I've heard the same questions repeatedly, "Saf, you don't believe in god?" "Saf, do you think Jesus was a Jew?" "Well Saf, then who created the universe and set everything in motion?" On and on it goes. All the same questions. All posed with the similar tinge of incredulity. As if I have a different take on the same questions that have plagued mankind. Yes, plagued. While these questions might offer humans a sense of hope, they're also the questions that bring about the worst qualities in man. It's an intriguing balance. A televangelist can take the comfort of old womans prayer and use if for sinister gain. A third world tyrant, or one right here in the USA, can use religion as a weapon of terror, mobilizing the janjaweed to storm through villages, raping and killing, or even worse, subtly using the notion of "good vs. evil" to milk hundreds of billions to alter the geoploitical landscape of the planet.
As would be expected, I find all this as disturbing as the next guy. Well Saf, at least you can take comfort in the idea of a greater power or some omnipotent force that guides mankind. Yeah, right! Talk about the audacity of hope!
But the truth is I DO believe. Not in Jesus Christ dying for my sins, or they came to the ark in twosies twosies, or the notion of papal infallibility, or a burning bush, or the garden of eden, or Ezekial begat so and so, or any of that line of mundane jibberish. I believe there's balance in the universe. You see it all around you, everyday in just about every conceivable way. Everything is striving toward some form of common ground, or center. Some refer to it as yin/yang or maybe a branch of Taoism. I don't know what it's called, but you see it in every aspect of life - politics, economics, spirituality, war. And there's balance in simpler things; landscaping, golf, online gambling.
I've always had a desire to put these thoughts on paper, or nowadays, screen. So I'm bidding farewell to the acrimonious restaurant reviews and the mildly amusing rock concert anecdotes. For the forseeable future, I'll just be writing about one concept - BALANCE IN THE UNIVERSE. I wonder if it will be fulfilling. Some will like it, some won't. Some posts will leave you contemplative, others will be like "things that make you hmmmm (Arsenio Hall style)." Some posts will dwelve into the stark realities of mankind, other posts will deal with the misuse of ranch dressing. In any event, they'll all be dealing with the notion of balance and how everything strives toward some common ground. Hopefully, this goes over better than that double comedy cd. Maybe it will, maybe it won't.
As would be expected, I find all this as disturbing as the next guy. Well Saf, at least you can take comfort in the idea of a greater power or some omnipotent force that guides mankind. Yeah, right! Talk about the audacity of hope!
But the truth is I DO believe. Not in Jesus Christ dying for my sins, or they came to the ark in twosies twosies, or the notion of papal infallibility, or a burning bush, or the garden of eden, or Ezekial begat so and so, or any of that line of mundane jibberish. I believe there's balance in the universe. You see it all around you, everyday in just about every conceivable way. Everything is striving toward some form of common ground, or center. Some refer to it as yin/yang or maybe a branch of Taoism. I don't know what it's called, but you see it in every aspect of life - politics, economics, spirituality, war. And there's balance in simpler things; landscaping, golf, online gambling.
I've always had a desire to put these thoughts on paper, or nowadays, screen. So I'm bidding farewell to the acrimonious restaurant reviews and the mildly amusing rock concert anecdotes. For the forseeable future, I'll just be writing about one concept - BALANCE IN THE UNIVERSE. I wonder if it will be fulfilling. Some will like it, some won't. Some posts will leave you contemplative, others will be like "things that make you hmmmm (Arsenio Hall style)." Some posts will dwelve into the stark realities of mankind, other posts will deal with the misuse of ranch dressing. In any event, they'll all be dealing with the notion of balance and how everything strives toward some common ground. Hopefully, this goes over better than that double comedy cd. Maybe it will, maybe it won't.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
99th post
As I approach my hundreth post, I thought it would be a good idea to journey back to my blogroots - the restaurant reviews. How about a general recap? With all the lousy dining options in the valley, it's vital to get the truth out there. I'm just going to offer some listings and brief explanations.
Best lunch option - I'd have to say Metropolitan Grill. Yeah, I know the service ranges from marginally questionable to downright bizarre. You have to go in with a certain mindset. It might take 10 minutes to get seated. It could take 20 minutes to make verbal contact with your waiter/waitress. You might get the wrong bill. You might get the complimentary bread, you might not. Even worse, you get the bread, but they didn't shake up that dipping sauce so it ends up tasting like straight light sweet crude oil. Your waiter might have those wierdo African disc earings stretching the fuck out of his earlobes. If you can handle the oddities of the waitstaff, you're in great shape because the food is of impeccable quality. The salads are, hands down, the absolute best in a 45 mile radius. Any of the salads are a great choice. You'll never be disappointed. And to be honest, it's really not the fault of the waitstaff because the guy who owns the place hires and fires people like it's a bodily function. The average employee only works there for like 4 days or so.
Honorable mention goes to Figaretti's. It's not really about the food. The place is just so damn comfortable.
Best dinner option - I'll probably take some heat on this one. I'd have to say Outback. I know, I know. Saf, it's a fuckin' chain restaurant and they use words like "Kookooburra" and say things like "ahoy, matey." Nonetheless, the menu is strong and affordable and the service is decent and friendly. A few pieces of advice - the Bloomin Onion is one of the least healthy things you can eat on the planet earth. Their wings are surprisingly poor. The seared Ahi Tuna appetizer is very good. If you get the caesar side salad, ask for a few wedges of lemon. Great dressing, but use it sparangly. It's loaded with mayonnaise. And finally, don't go there on a Friday or Saturday. It's far too busy. Choose an off night.
Honorable mention goes to DeeJay's in Weirton. Great food. Great price. Great service. Nice place.
Best breakfast - Sonny Boys in outer Bridgeport is dirt cheap, but the place is kind of disgusting. The food is decent but I question the resaurants' cleanliness and the personal hygiene of the workers. I'm even more concerned about the hygiene of its patrons. Plus, the place wreaks of cigarette smoke. As far as price goes, it can't be beat. However, I'd rather pay a little more and go some place nice. Thus, the Ihlenfield Dining Room at Oglebay Park gets the nod. The have a fantastic Sunday brunch for around 12 bucks. I've only gone a few times but it's truly impressive. Plentiful options, pleasant atmosphere and the food is great. One piece of advice - don't stand in the omelette station or handmade waffle line if there are more than 3 people. You'll look like an idiot trying to make small talk with the hotel guests (you'll be forced to discuss the all the finer points of Oglebay Park - that's a conversation of consternation) and it will take forever for them to custom design your breakfast. Heed this warning - avoid the Ihlenfield dining room for any other meal. Only the Sunday brunch is decent.
Honorable mention goes to Bob Evans.
Worst buffet - Oh, for the love of God, that Super Buffet on National Road by TJ's. Chinese/American/Italian cuisine at its absolute worst. Yeah, they have 200 options, but they're all equally bad. The food sits there for who knows how long and the parking lot is relatively vacant. I think I'd rather eat at the CVS next door.
Worst overall restaurant - It's got to be TJ's Sportgarden. WHY? Why do people voluntarily choose to dine at this place? I have no idea whatsoever. The food is so bad it defies description. The funny thing is that the menu is standard sports bar fare, so you've got to figure it can't be that bad. They just offer the basics and deep fry the hell out of everything else. It's something more sinister though. I think TJ's thrives because of the stupidity of the general populous of Ohio & Belmont Counties. It's success is largely based on the indisputable fact that the morons who reside in the area "simply don't know any better." What else could explain how this place has been successful through the years? As I see it, TJ's success is based on 3 things - the dumbness and low iq of area residents, their unbelievably low dining expectations and its location (they do have a nice spot right off I-70.
Best burger - I don't eat a lot of hamburgers but Billy's Brickyard in deep Triadelphia is the best.
Best wings - Drover's. Nothing else compares. If you don't want any drummies, make sure to loudly request all "Double Boners." That's what they unashamedly refer to them as. Great atmosphere. Just don't go there with a crowd of more than 4 on a busy night - a guaranteed recipe for disaster.
Worst fast food restaurant - A triple tie between 3 Bruger Kings. The one in Warwood is beyond disgusting. The one on the Island is atrocious. And the one in Bel-dirty is, well, just plain dirty.
Best steak night - I'd have to say the Undos, T&C, Sparachane, Herk entity cannot be beat. Here's the advice - call in an order for takeout. Steak, baked potato and salad easily feed two. Always go early. A waitress once told me, "If you're getting there late, you'll get the slop that's leftover at the end of the night."
Best cafeteria - Gotta go Mehlman's. Dirt cheap. Food is decent and more importantly, it's safe and predictable. Avoid the salad, roll and dessert area at the beginning of the line. Stick with the stuffed chicken breast, green beans and mashed potatoes. Go with the obvious for maximum fulfillment. Their secret motto is "You will grow old with us."
Worst cafeteria - gotta stick with Hoss's in the Elm Grove Crossing Mall. Fuck that place.
Worst Mexican - that Nogales place in downtown Wheeling is gross. I'd rather consume regurgitated dogshit.
For my 100th blog, I'm going to start focusing on more tangible/regional concerns Stay tuned...
Best lunch option - I'd have to say Metropolitan Grill. Yeah, I know the service ranges from marginally questionable to downright bizarre. You have to go in with a certain mindset. It might take 10 minutes to get seated. It could take 20 minutes to make verbal contact with your waiter/waitress. You might get the wrong bill. You might get the complimentary bread, you might not. Even worse, you get the bread, but they didn't shake up that dipping sauce so it ends up tasting like straight light sweet crude oil. Your waiter might have those wierdo African disc earings stretching the fuck out of his earlobes. If you can handle the oddities of the waitstaff, you're in great shape because the food is of impeccable quality. The salads are, hands down, the absolute best in a 45 mile radius. Any of the salads are a great choice. You'll never be disappointed. And to be honest, it's really not the fault of the waitstaff because the guy who owns the place hires and fires people like it's a bodily function. The average employee only works there for like 4 days or so.
Honorable mention goes to Figaretti's. It's not really about the food. The place is just so damn comfortable.
Best dinner option - I'll probably take some heat on this one. I'd have to say Outback. I know, I know. Saf, it's a fuckin' chain restaurant and they use words like "Kookooburra" and say things like "ahoy, matey." Nonetheless, the menu is strong and affordable and the service is decent and friendly. A few pieces of advice - the Bloomin Onion is one of the least healthy things you can eat on the planet earth. Their wings are surprisingly poor. The seared Ahi Tuna appetizer is very good. If you get the caesar side salad, ask for a few wedges of lemon. Great dressing, but use it sparangly. It's loaded with mayonnaise. And finally, don't go there on a Friday or Saturday. It's far too busy. Choose an off night.
Honorable mention goes to DeeJay's in Weirton. Great food. Great price. Great service. Nice place.
Best breakfast - Sonny Boys in outer Bridgeport is dirt cheap, but the place is kind of disgusting. The food is decent but I question the resaurants' cleanliness and the personal hygiene of the workers. I'm even more concerned about the hygiene of its patrons. Plus, the place wreaks of cigarette smoke. As far as price goes, it can't be beat. However, I'd rather pay a little more and go some place nice. Thus, the Ihlenfield Dining Room at Oglebay Park gets the nod. The have a fantastic Sunday brunch for around 12 bucks. I've only gone a few times but it's truly impressive. Plentiful options, pleasant atmosphere and the food is great. One piece of advice - don't stand in the omelette station or handmade waffle line if there are more than 3 people. You'll look like an idiot trying to make small talk with the hotel guests (you'll be forced to discuss the all the finer points of Oglebay Park - that's a conversation of consternation) and it will take forever for them to custom design your breakfast. Heed this warning - avoid the Ihlenfield dining room for any other meal. Only the Sunday brunch is decent.
Honorable mention goes to Bob Evans.
Worst buffet - Oh, for the love of God, that Super Buffet on National Road by TJ's. Chinese/American/Italian cuisine at its absolute worst. Yeah, they have 200 options, but they're all equally bad. The food sits there for who knows how long and the parking lot is relatively vacant. I think I'd rather eat at the CVS next door.
Worst overall restaurant - It's got to be TJ's Sportgarden. WHY? Why do people voluntarily choose to dine at this place? I have no idea whatsoever. The food is so bad it defies description. The funny thing is that the menu is standard sports bar fare, so you've got to figure it can't be that bad. They just offer the basics and deep fry the hell out of everything else. It's something more sinister though. I think TJ's thrives because of the stupidity of the general populous of Ohio & Belmont Counties. It's success is largely based on the indisputable fact that the morons who reside in the area "simply don't know any better." What else could explain how this place has been successful through the years? As I see it, TJ's success is based on 3 things - the dumbness and low iq of area residents, their unbelievably low dining expectations and its location (they do have a nice spot right off I-70.
Best burger - I don't eat a lot of hamburgers but Billy's Brickyard in deep Triadelphia is the best.
Best wings - Drover's. Nothing else compares. If you don't want any drummies, make sure to loudly request all "Double Boners." That's what they unashamedly refer to them as. Great atmosphere. Just don't go there with a crowd of more than 4 on a busy night - a guaranteed recipe for disaster.
Worst fast food restaurant - A triple tie between 3 Bruger Kings. The one in Warwood is beyond disgusting. The one on the Island is atrocious. And the one in Bel-dirty is, well, just plain dirty.
Best steak night - I'd have to say the Undos, T&C, Sparachane, Herk entity cannot be beat. Here's the advice - call in an order for takeout. Steak, baked potato and salad easily feed two. Always go early. A waitress once told me, "If you're getting there late, you'll get the slop that's leftover at the end of the night."
Best cafeteria - Gotta go Mehlman's. Dirt cheap. Food is decent and more importantly, it's safe and predictable. Avoid the salad, roll and dessert area at the beginning of the line. Stick with the stuffed chicken breast, green beans and mashed potatoes. Go with the obvious for maximum fulfillment. Their secret motto is "You will grow old with us."
Worst cafeteria - gotta stick with Hoss's in the Elm Grove Crossing Mall. Fuck that place.
Worst Mexican - that Nogales place in downtown Wheeling is gross. I'd rather consume regurgitated dogshit.
For my 100th blog, I'm going to start focusing on more tangible/regional concerns Stay tuned...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Bed Bath & Beyond
Yesterday I zipped up to the Highlands and made a purchase that has transformed my very existence. I purchased the Aquascape Waterpik showerhead. It was marked down from $89 to $69. The head on this thing is massive. 5 different settings that spew forth H20 in ways that boggle the mind and alter the boundaries of imagination. I have named it "Obama." This showerhead represents a new standard and a fresh approach to the bathing process much the same way Barack Obama has injected a new perspective to the political process. I have aptly decided to name the old showerhead "Bush." It will be discarded in the near future.
I've always hated taking baths. There's something inherently unpleasant about wallowing in ones own filth. Maybe if the water could stay hot. From time to time I do embrace the Oglebay hot-tub whirlpool spa thing. Usually when my back is locked up. But I digress. Anyway, I strongly encourage anyone to check out this innovative showerhead contraption.
I also purchased a splashproof radio/cd player for 20 bucks. It's a bit on the large side but is a nice add on. My old shower radio was a piece of junk. You could barely pick up the local stations and the thing looked like something out of a McDonalds Happy Meal.
I also purchased some new ice cube trays that feature "cylinderical" style cubes. Good for inserting in a bottle of water or wine to go. Cost - 1 package of 3 trays for #3.99. Now I'll admit, that one's a rip off. Still, I find these new ice cubes exhilerating.
All in all, I highly recommend the Bed Bath & Beyond at the Highlands. The employees are genuinely friendly and helpful, but they give you an ample amount of breathing room so they're not a nuisance. I give them high marks. There's nothing worse than an overly aggressive Walmart employee who's trying to sell you on some low-end olives or canned meat. While on the topic of Walmart, there's this one guy who stocks shelves. He's a middle aged white man that sports a 1970's NBA style afro. Has anyone seen this guy? They make him wear this hair net meshing ensemble. Very unusual.
The last time I was in Walmart I happened to strike up a conversation with a woman in front of me. She explained how she had just relocated from West Palm Beach. We discussed the "change of pace" and some of the differences she would inevitably encounter. As I was leaving, she was speaking very graphically about why she came to walmart to buy some new scrubs. She loudly used the following terms with the cashier - urine, blood and fecal matter. Apparently, this nurse wanted everyone at the check-out to hear her words. In the parking lot, a younger woman she was with (I think it was her sister) saw me loading up my car and proclaimed, "Hey, she's single!" I responded, "Thanks, I'm good."
I've always hated taking baths. There's something inherently unpleasant about wallowing in ones own filth. Maybe if the water could stay hot. From time to time I do embrace the Oglebay hot-tub whirlpool spa thing. Usually when my back is locked up. But I digress. Anyway, I strongly encourage anyone to check out this innovative showerhead contraption.
I also purchased a splashproof radio/cd player for 20 bucks. It's a bit on the large side but is a nice add on. My old shower radio was a piece of junk. You could barely pick up the local stations and the thing looked like something out of a McDonalds Happy Meal.
I also purchased some new ice cube trays that feature "cylinderical" style cubes. Good for inserting in a bottle of water or wine to go. Cost - 1 package of 3 trays for #3.99. Now I'll admit, that one's a rip off. Still, I find these new ice cubes exhilerating.
All in all, I highly recommend the Bed Bath & Beyond at the Highlands. The employees are genuinely friendly and helpful, but they give you an ample amount of breathing room so they're not a nuisance. I give them high marks. There's nothing worse than an overly aggressive Walmart employee who's trying to sell you on some low-end olives or canned meat. While on the topic of Walmart, there's this one guy who stocks shelves. He's a middle aged white man that sports a 1970's NBA style afro. Has anyone seen this guy? They make him wear this hair net meshing ensemble. Very unusual.
The last time I was in Walmart I happened to strike up a conversation with a woman in front of me. She explained how she had just relocated from West Palm Beach. We discussed the "change of pace" and some of the differences she would inevitably encounter. As I was leaving, she was speaking very graphically about why she came to walmart to buy some new scrubs. She loudly used the following terms with the cashier - urine, blood and fecal matter. Apparently, this nurse wanted everyone at the check-out to hear her words. In the parking lot, a younger woman she was with (I think it was her sister) saw me loading up my car and proclaimed, "Hey, she's single!" I responded, "Thanks, I'm good."
Friday, February 29, 2008
looting
Another bold prediction...
It seems to me that there could be some unintended consequences of all this capitalistic consumerism and the recent advent of acquiring instantaneuos information. Try to follow me here. You have all these retail outlets which increasingly stock small and expensive items. Specifically stuff like laptops, video gaming devices, medication, etc. Wouldn't it be possible to sign up (via the interent) for some kind of notification, sent by whoever, that there will be a mass looting spree at this particular store or general location. I'm talking about smash and grab - nothing too fancy. Basically, you'd be notified via your cell phone that a mob will quickly appear at a certain location. In increasingly difficult economic times, there are a lot of people out there who'd have no qualms about committing acts of blatant theft against big corporations if they know they could get away with it. You might ask, what about the law enforcement or security cameras. That probably wouldn't be a factor if the place gets torched immediately following the instant looting/wilding spree.
I'm just mentioning this because I see a certain inevitablity here. You can't just have all these retail outlets keep popping up without a negative backlash. There's got to be some form of checks and balances with this.
It seems to me that there could be some unintended consequences of all this capitalistic consumerism and the recent advent of acquiring instantaneuos information. Try to follow me here. You have all these retail outlets which increasingly stock small and expensive items. Specifically stuff like laptops, video gaming devices, medication, etc. Wouldn't it be possible to sign up (via the interent) for some kind of notification, sent by whoever, that there will be a mass looting spree at this particular store or general location. I'm talking about smash and grab - nothing too fancy. Basically, you'd be notified via your cell phone that a mob will quickly appear at a certain location. In increasingly difficult economic times, there are a lot of people out there who'd have no qualms about committing acts of blatant theft against big corporations if they know they could get away with it. You might ask, what about the law enforcement or security cameras. That probably wouldn't be a factor if the place gets torched immediately following the instant looting/wilding spree.
I'm just mentioning this because I see a certain inevitablity here. You can't just have all these retail outlets keep popping up without a negative backlash. There's got to be some form of checks and balances with this.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Olive Garden (of Eden). NOT!
Yesterday was a historic one indeed. Obama and Huckabee pulled off huge upsets and won the Iowas caucases. Of far greater importance, I disobeyed a lifelong tenet. I visited a restaurant that had been open only a week or so. I've often stressed the importance of waiting about a month before going to a newly opened restaurant for the initial visit. This way, they've worked out all the "kinks" with the food, service, etc.
Anyway, Jenn and I were at Walmart and decided to go for it. We arrived at the Olive Garden in the Highlands around 7:30pm. The place was packed and about a baker's dozen of people were waiting to be seated. It only took about 5 minutes for the giant blinking buzzer disc to start vibrating. I spotted Paigey in the distance, but I don't think she saw me.
We were seated in the back. Paigey was hustling about and briefly stopped to chit chat. Our waitress had a jarheadish, bleached-blond butchie kind of haircut. She was bit curt and abrupt. Jenn ordered coffee and water. I requested a Miller lite, but was quickly informed that they didn't have any Miller Lite products since New Years. Kind of a surprise that they wouldn't restock. I then opted for a Coors Light - none of that in stock either. Faced with the horrific prospect of Bud or Bud Light, I opted for a water with lemon. Our drinks came shortly thereafter. Jenn got an entire pitcher of coffee (nice touch) and I received my water (sans lemon).
Jenn ordered the eggplant parmesan and I selected the shrimp calabrese. Our militaristic waitress soon returned with the salad and breadsticks. She aggressively placed the bowls on the table and they made a distinctive clang. Jenn noticed all the other diners were offered freshly, grated cheese. We were denied this opportunity although I did see our waitress walking around with the mozzerella machine. Jenn quietly mentioned to me that she wanted cheese, more salad with up to 5 pepperoncinis and a surplus of black olives. I didn't think it would be a good idea to "rock the boat." Just in the nick of time, Paigey showed up and proceeded to solidify, or if you prefer "saladify", our order.
Our food was delivered by a young girl, making her first and only appearance of the night. I noticed something was wrong immediately. I didn't get the right order. But I glanced at Jenn's plate and she had the right one so I harkened back to my earlier thoughts. Don't rock the boat, Saf. I started eating and Paigey swung through and said, "Oh you got the seafood portifino, great choice. Mmmmm." Before I could respond, she was out my vocal range. I thought to myself, oh well, one out of two ain't bad. I'll just eat it and go with the flow. As Jenn, sliced into her eggplant parmesan, she was alarmed with the turgid nature of the eggplant. Alas, much to her dismay, it was not eggplant. It was chicken. Now I must admit, eggplant and chicken parmesan do look pretty similar. As we're discussing the fact that they gave us both the wrong food, here comes our stern waitress (with slightly lesbianic overtones). "Listen you guys. I'm really sorry. We gave you the wrong order." All the time, she must have been secretly thinking - how could these two idiots not know what they ordered. We admitted that we kind of figured it out, but we were just kind of "going with the flow." We thought about the other couple who probably would have been a little more disurbed - not everyone loves eggplant. And I must admit, I really would have preferred the garlic & tomato/olive oil base as opposed to the fettucini alfredo sauce. I've gained about 5 pounds over the winter and have made a genuine recent attempt to avoid eating a stick of butter with 3 cups of heavy whipping cream.
Our waitress continued a brief apology and even Paigey got involved. Are you absolutely sure you want to eat that?" "Yeah, that cool. Everything is fine." They subliminally placed the blame on the young server girl, which in all likelihood was the true source of the mix-up. No big deal though.
As our dining experience neared its conclusion, I pondered the thought - will she bill us for what we ordered or what we actually consumed. My shrimp calabrese would have been a few bucks more than that seafood thing. When our waitress returned with the "to-go boxes," she wished us a happy New Year and said the meal was on us. How cool is that. I kind of assumed they wouldn't have the audacity to charge us for the wrong order, but we were partially to blame too. I mean, what kind of bozos both eat the wrong meal. We tipped her a twenty which seemed appropriate since it was a kick-down meal.
As we exited, we bid Paigey a farewell. Amid the crying babies and the screaming children at the adjacent table, as well as the shrill sounds of the background Pavarotti knock-off over the sound system it all became apparent. When you go to the Olive Garden, YOU TRULY ARE FAMILY.
Anyway, Jenn and I were at Walmart and decided to go for it. We arrived at the Olive Garden in the Highlands around 7:30pm. The place was packed and about a baker's dozen of people were waiting to be seated. It only took about 5 minutes for the giant blinking buzzer disc to start vibrating. I spotted Paigey in the distance, but I don't think she saw me.
We were seated in the back. Paigey was hustling about and briefly stopped to chit chat. Our waitress had a jarheadish, bleached-blond butchie kind of haircut. She was bit curt and abrupt. Jenn ordered coffee and water. I requested a Miller lite, but was quickly informed that they didn't have any Miller Lite products since New Years. Kind of a surprise that they wouldn't restock. I then opted for a Coors Light - none of that in stock either. Faced with the horrific prospect of Bud or Bud Light, I opted for a water with lemon. Our drinks came shortly thereafter. Jenn got an entire pitcher of coffee (nice touch) and I received my water (sans lemon).
Jenn ordered the eggplant parmesan and I selected the shrimp calabrese. Our militaristic waitress soon returned with the salad and breadsticks. She aggressively placed the bowls on the table and they made a distinctive clang. Jenn noticed all the other diners were offered freshly, grated cheese. We were denied this opportunity although I did see our waitress walking around with the mozzerella machine. Jenn quietly mentioned to me that she wanted cheese, more salad with up to 5 pepperoncinis and a surplus of black olives. I didn't think it would be a good idea to "rock the boat." Just in the nick of time, Paigey showed up and proceeded to solidify, or if you prefer "saladify", our order.
Our food was delivered by a young girl, making her first and only appearance of the night. I noticed something was wrong immediately. I didn't get the right order. But I glanced at Jenn's plate and she had the right one so I harkened back to my earlier thoughts. Don't rock the boat, Saf. I started eating and Paigey swung through and said, "Oh you got the seafood portifino, great choice. Mmmmm." Before I could respond, she was out my vocal range. I thought to myself, oh well, one out of two ain't bad. I'll just eat it and go with the flow. As Jenn, sliced into her eggplant parmesan, she was alarmed with the turgid nature of the eggplant. Alas, much to her dismay, it was not eggplant. It was chicken. Now I must admit, eggplant and chicken parmesan do look pretty similar. As we're discussing the fact that they gave us both the wrong food, here comes our stern waitress (with slightly lesbianic overtones). "Listen you guys. I'm really sorry. We gave you the wrong order." All the time, she must have been secretly thinking - how could these two idiots not know what they ordered. We admitted that we kind of figured it out, but we were just kind of "going with the flow." We thought about the other couple who probably would have been a little more disurbed - not everyone loves eggplant. And I must admit, I really would have preferred the garlic & tomato/olive oil base as opposed to the fettucini alfredo sauce. I've gained about 5 pounds over the winter and have made a genuine recent attempt to avoid eating a stick of butter with 3 cups of heavy whipping cream.
Our waitress continued a brief apology and even Paigey got involved. Are you absolutely sure you want to eat that?" "Yeah, that cool. Everything is fine." They subliminally placed the blame on the young server girl, which in all likelihood was the true source of the mix-up. No big deal though.
As our dining experience neared its conclusion, I pondered the thought - will she bill us for what we ordered or what we actually consumed. My shrimp calabrese would have been a few bucks more than that seafood thing. When our waitress returned with the "to-go boxes," she wished us a happy New Year and said the meal was on us. How cool is that. I kind of assumed they wouldn't have the audacity to charge us for the wrong order, but we were partially to blame too. I mean, what kind of bozos both eat the wrong meal. We tipped her a twenty which seemed appropriate since it was a kick-down meal.
As we exited, we bid Paigey a farewell. Amid the crying babies and the screaming children at the adjacent table, as well as the shrill sounds of the background Pavarotti knock-off over the sound system it all became apparent. When you go to the Olive Garden, YOU TRULY ARE FAMILY.
Friday, November 09, 2007
the other favorite concerts
These are some additional favortie concerts. No major incidents, just great shows in no particular order...
Jane's Addiction - AJ Palumbo Center, Duquesne University - 1991
I cruised up with Mark Infantino. On our way back to the car, some concertgoer said, "Hey, check out that bumper sticker. That's cool." It was the "He's Gone" bumper sticker on my Omni. In a strange way, it paralleled my existense during the early 1990's.
Phish - KSU Mac Center, Kent State University - 1994
A large crew of us went to this one - probably about a dozen. My first Phish show. The energy level was insane. I remember watching this hippie dude stealing beer from a vendor on the arena floor while doing some unusual "mother shabooboo" dance moves.
Foo Fighters - Chevrolet Ampitheatre, Pittsburgh, PA - 2003
Just a total rock show. I'm a huge fan of Dave Grohl.
Prince - Mellon Arena, Pittsburgh, PA - 2004
I saw Prince at the same venue during the late 1990's. That show was pathetic. This one was unbelieveable. It was me, Amanda, and the indomitable April Green.
Farm Aid - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 2002
A ton of us went. Phenomenal dumpster parking and just an overall great time. When we were leaving, I kicked some kids out of their chairs by the steps. "Oh, are these yours. We're sorry." I just mumbled, "No big deal." Snagged the chairs, threw them in the hatch and said, "Now we're done." I still have those chairs compliments of Weirton Rent-a-Center.
Beastie Boys - CSU Convocation Center, Cleveland, Ohio - 1998
After begging just about everyone I knew to go up, the best I could muster up was Bill Samms from the 440 N. Front Street House of Death. Needless to say, he remained consistently silent the whole night. The concert made up for it though.
Fleetwood Mac - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 1997
Went up with a small crew. Angie Szalay ran over a dead deer carcas on the way there. Total energy show. There's something intrigueing about Christie McVie. The other girl, not so much.
Live - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 1995
Place was packed. It was their Throwing Copper tour. After the show, we were doing long range soccer kicks. The ball was careening off peoples' cars as they left the parking lot. Windhields, doors, the little parking security trailor. Nothing was immune to the soccer ball. People were pissed off. We couldn't stop laughing. When we finally left the lot, I took out about a dozen barrels in the Maxima.
X-Fest - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 2000
I know, I know. Everyone has their stories of multple lawn chair fires and people throwing giant hunks of dirt from the lawn. This has happened many times at the festival shows up there, but never like this one. Dunkle danced around the fires like a wild injun. Stone Temple Pilots closed this one out, but Cypress Hill was the the highlight.
Jane's Addiction - AJ Palumbo Center, Duquesne University - 1991
I cruised up with Mark Infantino. On our way back to the car, some concertgoer said, "Hey, check out that bumper sticker. That's cool." It was the "He's Gone" bumper sticker on my Omni. In a strange way, it paralleled my existense during the early 1990's.
Phish - KSU Mac Center, Kent State University - 1994
A large crew of us went to this one - probably about a dozen. My first Phish show. The energy level was insane. I remember watching this hippie dude stealing beer from a vendor on the arena floor while doing some unusual "mother shabooboo" dance moves.
Foo Fighters - Chevrolet Ampitheatre, Pittsburgh, PA - 2003
Just a total rock show. I'm a huge fan of Dave Grohl.
Prince - Mellon Arena, Pittsburgh, PA - 2004
I saw Prince at the same venue during the late 1990's. That show was pathetic. This one was unbelieveable. It was me, Amanda, and the indomitable April Green.
Farm Aid - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 2002
A ton of us went. Phenomenal dumpster parking and just an overall great time. When we were leaving, I kicked some kids out of their chairs by the steps. "Oh, are these yours. We're sorry." I just mumbled, "No big deal." Snagged the chairs, threw them in the hatch and said, "Now we're done." I still have those chairs compliments of Weirton Rent-a-Center.
Beastie Boys - CSU Convocation Center, Cleveland, Ohio - 1998
After begging just about everyone I knew to go up, the best I could muster up was Bill Samms from the 440 N. Front Street House of Death. Needless to say, he remained consistently silent the whole night. The concert made up for it though.
Fleetwood Mac - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 1997
Went up with a small crew. Angie Szalay ran over a dead deer carcas on the way there. Total energy show. There's something intrigueing about Christie McVie. The other girl, not so much.
Live - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 1995
Place was packed. It was their Throwing Copper tour. After the show, we were doing long range soccer kicks. The ball was careening off peoples' cars as they left the parking lot. Windhields, doors, the little parking security trailor. Nothing was immune to the soccer ball. People were pissed off. We couldn't stop laughing. When we finally left the lot, I took out about a dozen barrels in the Maxima.
X-Fest - Starlake Ampitheatre, Burgettstown, PA - 2000
I know, I know. Everyone has their stories of multple lawn chair fires and people throwing giant hunks of dirt from the lawn. This has happened many times at the festival shows up there, but never like this one. Dunkle danced around the fires like a wild injun. Stone Temple Pilots closed this one out, but Cypress Hill was the the highlight.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Death Angel/Rigor Mortis 1988
Death Angel is one of the baddest metal bands on the planet. It didn't take much coaxing for a crew of us to go see the "Frolic Through the Park" tour at Bogarts in Cincinnati. The guys from the Trash house (Mike, Steve and Cleve) and me, Anthony Semirale and Ed Montgomery all made our way to the familiar concert hall. Trasher Mike was a huge Rigor Mortis fan. He would look at you in this drunken, stoned haze and recite their lyrics.
Your body's in slices. You're in six fuckin' pieces. Bodily Dismemberment.
That pretty much set the tone. When Rigor Mortis came out, the place went berzerk. A very rough pit. I steered clear but when Death Angel opened with "Mind Rape," I found myself in the middle of it all. An absolute killer show. Definitely in my all-time top 5. After the show was over, we were partying with the band in the back alley. For some reason, they had a real tour bus. This was a bit unusual for a band of their stature. They invited us on the bus. I bought a t-shirt and had the whole band sign it. I'd have it for a few years until this complete dumbshit who lived in my Wheeling Island apt. for two weeks snagged it. The sad truth is, he was a fake white thug rapper. I think his name was Rob. He was a complete waste, but his girlfriend (my neighbor) Tameka was pretty cool. I can't even fathom what happened to either of them.
I spent some time talking with the drummer who was a little worried about openly drinking Corona. He admitted to me, "Hey, I'm only 15." This struck me as really odd. At the time, I was 19.
Your body's in slices. You're in six fuckin' pieces. Bodily Dismemberment.
That pretty much set the tone. When Rigor Mortis came out, the place went berzerk. A very rough pit. I steered clear but when Death Angel opened with "Mind Rape," I found myself in the middle of it all. An absolute killer show. Definitely in my all-time top 5. After the show was over, we were partying with the band in the back alley. For some reason, they had a real tour bus. This was a bit unusual for a band of their stature. They invited us on the bus. I bought a t-shirt and had the whole band sign it. I'd have it for a few years until this complete dumbshit who lived in my Wheeling Island apt. for two weeks snagged it. The sad truth is, he was a fake white thug rapper. I think his name was Rob. He was a complete waste, but his girlfriend (my neighbor) Tameka was pretty cool. I can't even fathom what happened to either of them.
I spent some time talking with the drummer who was a little worried about openly drinking Corona. He admitted to me, "Hey, I'm only 15." This struck me as really odd. At the time, I was 19.
Testament at the City Limits, 1988
I'm pretty sure this was my first "real" metal show. I was a senior in high school and by virtue of the fact that I had a driver's license and access to a vehicle, it would fall on me. I remember it was me, Jepson, and two others (probably Ricer, Mulvey, Neuhardt, or Shawn White (who, to this day, still annoys the fuck out of me). Testament was scheduled to play at this abandoned roller skating rink formerly known as The City Limits in Penn Hills, PA. I recall pulling into the lot and checking out the line of metalheads. We were in heaven. This was the first real show for all of us. We're milling around and all of a sudden an old van pulls up and Chuck Billy (the lead singer) jumps out of the back. We were BLOWN away. You cannot put this into words - it was the equivalent of some Princess Di fanatic having a wine spritzer with Elton John. That's what we're talking about. We got some of the band members to sign our memorabalia. I bought my first "legit" metal concert t-shirt - THE NEW ORDER w/ all the tour dates.
We walked into the venue and realized that we could walk up and touch the stage. There were only one or two rows of people before the show commenced. All in all, I'd say about 500 people attended this show. The band Vio-lence opened. The lead singer would continually hurled himself backwards into the crowd and the fans would push him back onto the stage. This blew me away. I'd never seen anything like it. I think I was a bit starstruck at the time. Honestly, I idolized these bands and there they were, about 5 feet in front of me. The lead singer was wearing a 1-900 DOMINATRIX t-shirt. It was getting ripped too shreds. I'll never forget the picture of the woman with a whip.
Testament opened with "Into the Pit." Great choice. They also played "Over the Wall." Little did I know, Jepson would coin the phrase "Over the Wall" in reference to pissing outside the urinal. We stopped at a McDonalds on the way home and everyone (except me) purposely pissed outside the urinal. We saw a McDonalds employee heading into the bathroom. As we exited the restaurant, we heard him say "Ohhh, no."
We walked into the venue and realized that we could walk up and touch the stage. There were only one or two rows of people before the show commenced. All in all, I'd say about 500 people attended this show. The band Vio-lence opened. The lead singer would continually hurled himself backwards into the crowd and the fans would push him back onto the stage. This blew me away. I'd never seen anything like it. I think I was a bit starstruck at the time. Honestly, I idolized these bands and there they were, about 5 feet in front of me. The lead singer was wearing a 1-900 DOMINATRIX t-shirt. It was getting ripped too shreds. I'll never forget the picture of the woman with a whip.
Testament opened with "Into the Pit." Great choice. They also played "Over the Wall." Little did I know, Jepson would coin the phrase "Over the Wall" in reference to pissing outside the urinal. We stopped at a McDonalds on the way home and everyone (except me) purposely pissed outside the urinal. We saw a McDonalds employee heading into the bathroom. As we exited the restaurant, we heard him say "Ohhh, no."
Friday, November 02, 2007
RATM - 1997
The unlikely foursome of Mark I., Mandy B., Jepsonian and myself hit the Rage Against the Machine show at Starlake about 10 years ago. This was a rowdy crowd. Great tailgating atmosphere. Jepson was surprised by the attendance. I was not. We somehow managed to snag one of the boxes in the reserved seating area. For some reason, they didn't try to kick us out. Usually, they can be pretty persistent. Wu Tang Clan opened but I recall very little of their performance. The lights went down and Rage came out. The whole ampitheatre really went nuts. Stray bodies were charging in from the lawn area. Usually, people try to be pretty discreet when they sneak into the seats. You look for a moment when the security is distracted or the usher guy is showing someone to their seats. Not this time. These mororns would come running down the hill and hurdle themsleves over the barrier. One of the security guys resembled Fuzzy the Bear, but much taller and lankier. Anyway, he spotted some cro-magnon dude and went after him. I had my doubts about whether he'd succeed. Sure enough, Fuzzy emerges from the pit area. He's dazed and confused and it looks like he got his nose broken. Blood streaming down his face as the other security guys help him off. There's a good lesson in there - if you're only getting paid minimum wage, don't try to be a hero.
On the way out of the lot, I tried to weave through traffic to get to the front. I accidentally scraped this one guy's Imapala. I jumped out of the car, explained how sorry I was, told him we didn't need the cops coming and handed the guy 70 bucks. It was all the money I had on me. I think he was amazed that I offered anything. The actual damage probably cost a few hundred. I jumped back in the car and took off in the other direction. Everyone in my car looked at me like I was nuts. Jepson said, "How'd you get away with that." I responded, "Let's get the fucka outta here."
On the way out of the lot, I tried to weave through traffic to get to the front. I accidentally scraped this one guy's Imapala. I jumped out of the car, explained how sorry I was, told him we didn't need the cops coming and handed the guy 70 bucks. It was all the money I had on me. I think he was amazed that I offered anything. The actual damage probably cost a few hundred. I jumped back in the car and took off in the other direction. Everyone in my car looked at me like I was nuts. Jepson said, "How'd you get away with that." I responded, "Let's get the fucka outta here."
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Pearl Jam - 2000
Dunkle and I cruised up to Starlake for the Pearl Jam show back in the late summer/early fall of 2000. We snagged the usual dumpster spot at the top of the steps and set up shop. The Maxima was nearing its demise. Right next to us was a giant bin filled with ice and Citra. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Citra, it's kind of like Fresca but without the nutrasweet/aspartame zing. They even had a male and female Citra representative from Coca Cola. I guess they were there to field questions and oversee giveaway operations. Anyway, I snagged a few gargabe bags from the "beer bottle police" and went to work. When the Citra reps moved off, I went to the bin and started filling up. Probably made about 5 separate Citra trips. I was loading up the trunk of the Maxima until it was full and then started in on the back seat. During one of the final trips, an undercover had busted this girl for underage drinking. He had her cornered up against my car and was filling out the citation. She's crying up a storm. Meanwhile, here I am on an entirely different mission. I'm hauling the garbage bag of Citra and it busts open leaving a trail of cans. I look at them both as I approach my car. "Excuse me you guys, I need to get in here." The cop gazes at me with this look of disbelief as I start dumping the garbage bag full of cans. Even the girl temporarily ceased her crying as she had trouble figuring out exactly what was transpiring. After all that commotion died down, we started to make our way into the venue. I saw the female Citra rep and she was back in action, promoting her cause and offering up free refreshment. She looked at me and asked if I'd like a sample can. I told her, "no, that would be stealing." She assured me that it was complimentary and I could have as many as I'd like. I told her that it just made me uncomfortable - getting something for nothing. After a few more back and forths, she just shrugged her shoulders and said ok. We continued hooping it up and slamming beers. For some reason, we decided to walk down to the other entrance. Before we left, I approached the Citra girl and told her I needed to show her something. She walked with me over to the car. I popped the trunk and, lo and behold, there were about 300 cans of Citra and the back seat probably had a couple cases in there as well. She looked at me with the same sense of disbelief the cop gave me an hour earlier. In fact, the trunk was so full, the car was weighted down. My struts were in pretty bad shape leading up to the incident to begin with.
We waited until the crowd died down and Dunkle decided to sneak some beers into the show. He lined his shorts with 3 beers. I was a little skepical of his brazenness because they ask you to lift up your shirt and spin around. Sure enough, the girl asks him to lift up his shirt. Dunkle complies and a beer can hits the ground and starts spraying her. Dunkle looks at her and points to a large pile of confiscated blankets. "These are mine." He picks up the stack and walks off into the distance. The same look of incredulity. This time from the gate attendant. All these looks of astonishment, wonderment and awe. You'd think these morons had never seen a rock concert.
Great show. They played a long encore and it was getting cold so we bolted. As the Maxima limped off the lot (due to the weight of the Citra), I came to the conclusion that it might be time for a new car. Unfortunately, that would lead to the worst decision I ever made - the 1997 Jeep Grand Cherokee aka shake, rattle and roll. However, on a lighter note, there would be plenty of Citra giveaways for weeks to follow.
We waited until the crowd died down and Dunkle decided to sneak some beers into the show. He lined his shorts with 3 beers. I was a little skepical of his brazenness because they ask you to lift up your shirt and spin around. Sure enough, the girl asks him to lift up his shirt. Dunkle complies and a beer can hits the ground and starts spraying her. Dunkle looks at her and points to a large pile of confiscated blankets. "These are mine." He picks up the stack and walks off into the distance. The same look of incredulity. This time from the gate attendant. All these looks of astonishment, wonderment and awe. You'd think these morons had never seen a rock concert.
Great show. They played a long encore and it was getting cold so we bolted. As the Maxima limped off the lot (due to the weight of the Citra), I came to the conclusion that it might be time for a new car. Unfortunately, that would lead to the worst decision I ever made - the 1997 Jeep Grand Cherokee aka shake, rattle and roll. However, on a lighter note, there would be plenty of Citra giveaways for weeks to follow.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Oasis - 1998
Cleopatra Carmen and I went up to this show at the AJ Palumbo Center. She got her neighbor to babysit and we rolled up in the Maxima. We got a late start and she was a little nervous about my driving - just keeping up with traffic. We skipped the opening act and made our way in. We walked down to the floor during the break and found some seats about 10 rows back. There was this diminutive kid in front of us who resembled the lead singer. Looked exactly like him. He even had the same mannerisms and identical gestures. We both found this really amusing. They band came out on stage as if they were playing a massive stadium in Europe, not a basketball arena at the Duquesne University. They had this total arrogance about them. The lead singer would frequently drink from his water bottle and spray the crowd. He must have gone through a 12 pack that night. As pompous as the band was, they definitely rocked. Just a straight-up pure rock concert.
After the concert, I told Carmen that we had to zip by 3 Rivers Stadium and check out the tail-gating scene. She was very skeptical but I explained that the Denver (-2) at Pittsburgh AFC Championship game was the next day at 1pm. I was pretty sure it would be a lively tailgating scene, despite the fact that it was bitter cold. Sure enough, there were a bunch of cars waiting to get on the main lot. We hung out at a few tailgates, but the one I really remember was these rednecks in a van with PA plates. They actually had a live black pig with them. Its name was Slash and if the Steelers lost tomorrow, they were going to "slash, Slash and grill/eat the pig right on the spot." If you could see the look in their eyes, you knew these guys weren't fucking around.
Broncos 24
Steelers 21
That poor pig. He probably never saw it coming.
After the concert, I told Carmen that we had to zip by 3 Rivers Stadium and check out the tail-gating scene. She was very skeptical but I explained that the Denver (-2) at Pittsburgh AFC Championship game was the next day at 1pm. I was pretty sure it would be a lively tailgating scene, despite the fact that it was bitter cold. Sure enough, there were a bunch of cars waiting to get on the main lot. We hung out at a few tailgates, but the one I really remember was these rednecks in a van with PA plates. They actually had a live black pig with them. Its name was Slash and if the Steelers lost tomorrow, they were going to "slash, Slash and grill/eat the pig right on the spot." If you could see the look in their eyes, you knew these guys weren't fucking around.
Broncos 24
Steelers 21
That poor pig. He probably never saw it coming.
Friday, October 26, 2007
King Diamond/Flotsam - 1988
My old friend Ed Montgomery and I wanted to go see King Diamond at Bogarts in Cincinnati. No vehicle though. So we enlisted the help of a strange upperclassman named Rob. Actually, he was alright but his driving made us both a bit nervous. He seemed to jerk the wheel a bit too much. We cruised down to the club and ran into some other Daytonites - Trasher Mike, Steve, Cleve and Anthony Semirale - aka Stone.
Flotsam and Jetsam opened the show and a huge pit emerged in front us. I'm a little leery of charging into these pits - it's a good way to get a bloody nose or at the very least, stomped on. Instead, I like to hover on the outskirts. Every once in a while you get bumped around but it's no big deal. Also, you don't have some fat ass who's sweating profusely rub up against you. That is not my idea of a good time. Flotsam rocked. During the set break, I saw the stage manager (Ole Bang, that's really his name) helping set things up. I asked him if we could get an autograph of the King and he surprisingly was very cool with it. In fact, he claimed to remember me. I thought that was odd but played along. After the show, Ed and I were led backstage. There was a a very peculiar dude in the corridor holding a clock. He asked us if were going to meet King Diamond and I said "that's the plan." He explained how he was hoping to get his clock signed - on the face of the clock was a painting of King Diamond's head (full satanic makeup and it looked pretty sharp). We also met these two groupie chicks from Dayton who we'd run into a few more times at these metal shows. I forget their names.
Anyway, Ole Bang comes up to us and says "the King is ready to see you." Ed and I open the door and there he is - no makeup. I must say, the King looked pretty haggard. Must have been worn out from all that screeching and that bizarre stage show. Anybody who has seen King Diamond would know what I'm talking about. He opened his mouth and in a haunting soft voice said "Come forward." Ed and I look at each other and nervously approached. He asked us if we enjoyed the show and we both mumbled "Yes, Mr. Diamond." He then signed my fan club letter which I kept in my wallet for years. He wrote the standard KING DIAMOND with two inverted crosses on both sides. I wish I still had that memento. Maybe I'll search through my files.
This wasn't the best show I've seen. I thought Flotsam was much better, but no way was I going to miss King D on that Welcome Home tour. All his friends were there - Missy, some giant mummy/Frankenstein thing, and don't forget Grandma. Not one of the best shows, but probably one of the strangest. It's always time for tea.
Flotsam and Jetsam opened the show and a huge pit emerged in front us. I'm a little leery of charging into these pits - it's a good way to get a bloody nose or at the very least, stomped on. Instead, I like to hover on the outskirts. Every once in a while you get bumped around but it's no big deal. Also, you don't have some fat ass who's sweating profusely rub up against you. That is not my idea of a good time. Flotsam rocked. During the set break, I saw the stage manager (Ole Bang, that's really his name) helping set things up. I asked him if we could get an autograph of the King and he surprisingly was very cool with it. In fact, he claimed to remember me. I thought that was odd but played along. After the show, Ed and I were led backstage. There was a a very peculiar dude in the corridor holding a clock. He asked us if were going to meet King Diamond and I said "that's the plan." He explained how he was hoping to get his clock signed - on the face of the clock was a painting of King Diamond's head (full satanic makeup and it looked pretty sharp). We also met these two groupie chicks from Dayton who we'd run into a few more times at these metal shows. I forget their names.
Anyway, Ole Bang comes up to us and says "the King is ready to see you." Ed and I open the door and there he is - no makeup. I must say, the King looked pretty haggard. Must have been worn out from all that screeching and that bizarre stage show. Anybody who has seen King Diamond would know what I'm talking about. He opened his mouth and in a haunting soft voice said "Come forward." Ed and I look at each other and nervously approached. He asked us if we enjoyed the show and we both mumbled "Yes, Mr. Diamond." He then signed my fan club letter which I kept in my wallet for years. He wrote the standard KING DIAMOND with two inverted crosses on both sides. I wish I still had that memento. Maybe I'll search through my files.
This wasn't the best show I've seen. I thought Flotsam was much better, but no way was I going to miss King D on that Welcome Home tour. All his friends were there - Missy, some giant mummy/Frankenstein thing, and don't forget Grandma. Not one of the best shows, but probably one of the strangest. It's always time for tea.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Paul McCartney - Cincy, 1989
In anticipation of a big sold-out one stand at the Riverfront Coliseum, I decided to buy as many tickets as I could for an upcoming Paul McCartney show. I slept out overnight with a buddy (Ed Montgomery) of mine in front of a department store in downtown Dayton. When they opened the doors, we charged to the ticketmaster machine in the back of the store easily outrunning everyone in the place. We each bought 8 tickets (the maximum). Our plan was to scalp them without even going to the show. Just put up a few flyers around campus. Needless to say, we got rid of them in no time. People at the back of the line were quite upset when they announced the show had sold-out in a record 45 minutes. Not the fastest sell-out by today's Hannah Montana standards, yet rather impressive for the late 1980's.
Anyway, one of the calls I got was from a sophmore girl who lived a floor below me. She was very interested in buying 2 tickets and taking her mother to the show. I told her I was out of tix, but still planned on going to the concert if she was interested. This was back in the day where we'd go to Bogarts (a club on Vine Street near UC) and purchase 3 buck tickets for some kind of waltzing fest. Then, we'd just use them at the coliseum. It worked just about every time. In fact, I used that same method to get in to my first dead show (also at Riverfront). Anyway, I explained the process to her and she was very skeptical but still wanted to go to the show. I think her name was Linda. Anyway, we got together and made plans. I asked to borrow this guy Steve's Nissan Stanza provided I fill it up and give him a case of long neck Bud bottles - that was the price. In retrospect, not that big a deal.
Anyway, we made it down to Cincinnati and tickets were going for big bucks. All of downtown was really whipped into a frenzy for this one. I think the mayor even gave Paul McCartney the "key to the city" - whatever, the fuck that meant at the time. Wow - what an honor to bestow upon someone - the city with the highest percentage of rapes, violent crime and murder per capita. Nice.
We merged into a huge line of people waiting to get in. They actually had a "checkpoint" set up to verify that you did indeed have a ticket. We flashed our tickets and walked right through. Linda, or Lisa, or whatever her name was confided that she was very nervous and didn't think it was going to work. I assured her we did this all the time. Just follow my lead. I looked for the oldest ticket-taker. It was a 75 year old who probably had never even heard of the Beatles. I made some small talk as he ripped my ticket - I honestly think it was a 3 dollar ticket stub for some kind of dance/waltz contest or maybe something called Buckwheat Zydeco. Anyway, not bad considering tickets were going for a couple hundred right outside.
Anyway, we looked for seats on the upper tier in the back of the arena but like I said, totally sol-out. So we sat in the aisle which made us fodder for the flashlight police. When the lights went out, the place erupted. They opened with a generally mellow song - Figure of Eight, which to this day I still like. The setlist is from a live recording of "Tripping the Live Fantastic" - an absolutely killer live cd.
Anyway, the Linda girl ran into someone she knew and they crowded her in with them a few rows ahead as the flashlight dude persisted. Fortunately an older couple saw my plight and "took me in to their row." I felt bad since my presence made it a little cramped, but I didn't have much of a say in the matter. They even got me high. Unfortunately, I put my finger on the top of the pipe instead of the side carb thing. It burned the fuck out of my finger and made the rest of the evening very uncomfortable. My finger actually throbbed in pain the entire night - it was that bad. No exaggeration.
This concert is definitely in my all-time top 5. Great show. Great crowd. Super-charged atmosphere. As we drove back to Dayton, I couldn't help but notice "how dark it was outside.
I asked Linda why I couldn't see any of the cars that would pass us. She ignored my questions and kept talking about how great the show was and how she wished she could have seen it with her mom. We were on two totally different wavelengths. I persisted about the "degree of darkness" and asked her to get me a beer out of the cooler in the back. When she turned around, she looked back at me and said, "Eric, do you know the trunk is up?" In retrospect, maybe that's why the ride home was a black-out.
Anyway, one of the calls I got was from a sophmore girl who lived a floor below me. She was very interested in buying 2 tickets and taking her mother to the show. I told her I was out of tix, but still planned on going to the concert if she was interested. This was back in the day where we'd go to Bogarts (a club on Vine Street near UC) and purchase 3 buck tickets for some kind of waltzing fest. Then, we'd just use them at the coliseum. It worked just about every time. In fact, I used that same method to get in to my first dead show (also at Riverfront). Anyway, I explained the process to her and she was very skeptical but still wanted to go to the show. I think her name was Linda. Anyway, we got together and made plans. I asked to borrow this guy Steve's Nissan Stanza provided I fill it up and give him a case of long neck Bud bottles - that was the price. In retrospect, not that big a deal.
Anyway, we made it down to Cincinnati and tickets were going for big bucks. All of downtown was really whipped into a frenzy for this one. I think the mayor even gave Paul McCartney the "key to the city" - whatever, the fuck that meant at the time. Wow - what an honor to bestow upon someone - the city with the highest percentage of rapes, violent crime and murder per capita. Nice.
We merged into a huge line of people waiting to get in. They actually had a "checkpoint" set up to verify that you did indeed have a ticket. We flashed our tickets and walked right through. Linda, or Lisa, or whatever her name was confided that she was very nervous and didn't think it was going to work. I assured her we did this all the time. Just follow my lead. I looked for the oldest ticket-taker. It was a 75 year old who probably had never even heard of the Beatles. I made some small talk as he ripped my ticket - I honestly think it was a 3 dollar ticket stub for some kind of dance/waltz contest or maybe something called Buckwheat Zydeco. Anyway, not bad considering tickets were going for a couple hundred right outside.
Anyway, we looked for seats on the upper tier in the back of the arena but like I said, totally sol-out. So we sat in the aisle which made us fodder for the flashlight police. When the lights went out, the place erupted. They opened with a generally mellow song - Figure of Eight, which to this day I still like. The setlist is from a live recording of "Tripping the Live Fantastic" - an absolutely killer live cd.
Anyway, the Linda girl ran into someone she knew and they crowded her in with them a few rows ahead as the flashlight dude persisted. Fortunately an older couple saw my plight and "took me in to their row." I felt bad since my presence made it a little cramped, but I didn't have much of a say in the matter. They even got me high. Unfortunately, I put my finger on the top of the pipe instead of the side carb thing. It burned the fuck out of my finger and made the rest of the evening very uncomfortable. My finger actually throbbed in pain the entire night - it was that bad. No exaggeration.
This concert is definitely in my all-time top 5. Great show. Great crowd. Super-charged atmosphere. As we drove back to Dayton, I couldn't help but notice "how dark it was outside.
I asked Linda why I couldn't see any of the cars that would pass us. She ignored my questions and kept talking about how great the show was and how she wished she could have seen it with her mom. We were on two totally different wavelengths. I persisted about the "degree of darkness" and asked her to get me a beer out of the cooler in the back. When she turned around, she looked back at me and said, "Eric, do you know the trunk is up?" In retrospect, maybe that's why the ride home was a black-out.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Grateful Dead - Chicago, Soldier Field 1991
This was my favorite dead show, hands down. I drove up with the infamous Lowe brothers and this other guy Rob Kohnfelder. A couple years later, I would grow to truly despise two of them. So much for the peace and love theory. We spent some time on the Southside of Chicago buying tons of beer at a distributor. Tom and John bought about a dozen cases which really weighed the car down. The suspension was bad enough on my little Charger 024 Omni. I miss that car - it was the original Saf mobile or as my father referred to it "the fucking jalopy and eyesore to the neighborhood." We arrived at the parking lot around noon and the place was filling up rapidly. I parked near these college kids who were dispensing 8 nitrous tanks. As the day wore on and the lines grew, I got to know them pretty well. They explained how they were from Cornell University, snagged a bunch of tanks and decided to hit the show. There were 4 of them - all business majors, go figure. They had given the security cops $100 a piece with a promise of another $100 each at the end of the night. Probably a good idea, since the lines were 20 people deep and the swooshing noise form the tanks was loud. At one time, they actually had two lines formed. This pissed off Tom at first since he was trying to sell imports and these guys were making a mint selling hippie crack. He eventually would sell all his beer anyway. The Cornell foursome probably netted about $16,000. Not bad for a days work. Not sure if they went into the show or not. I never even found out if they were Dead fans.
I had an interesting run-in with this Asian kid in the middle of the afternoon. We were standing by the car and we noticed this one hippie riding his bicycle while simultaneously hitting a nitrous balloon. I look to the Asian kid and said "that doesn't look like such a good idea." Before I could finish the sentence, the hippie slammed into a parked car and hit the pavement. The balloon went flying and he was pretty skinned up. Fortunately, he didn't crack his head. After a couple of minutes, the banged-up hippie managed to get to his feet and ride off. I started talking with the Asian kid - he told me his name was James. James and I started walking the lot talking about a variety of topics - where you from, you got a ticket for the show, the usual stuff. He then said that his band was playing tonight and told me "We should go check them out. I'm not going into the show tonight. I've got to play, but I wanted to come down here in the afternoon and check out the scene." I told him I was going to the concert and I doubted my traveling companions would be interested in seeing his show since we were heading to Kansas for another Dead show (that's another story). He mentioned that they were about to embark on a tour and said they'd be playing in Pittsburgh in a few weeks. I asked where and he said the Metropol. I was impressed and mentioned that the place holds almost 1,500. "Are you guys really that big?" He repsonded, "Oh yeah, there's about 4,000 people coming to our gig tonight. We're from Chicago and we're starting a tour to support our national release." I was a little blown away. We ended up hanging out for a couple hours. Right before we split to go into the show, I asked him, "Hey, what's the name of your band anyway?" He looked at me and quietly responded "The Smashing Pumpkins." A year or so later, it dawned on me that it was James Iha - guitarist of the Smashing Pumpkins. I always like that story.
Before the show, there was much speculation of the opener. Lots of people wanted to hear Shakedown Street which hadn't been played all tour. I explained that there's no way because it was Bob's night to open. They'll probably open the second set with it. On the way in, I noticed 2 great personalized license plates - one said "BUCKET", the other "SHKDWN." I wished I'd had my camera on me since I used to take pics of dead plates, but I had left it in the car. We walked by this group of crazed hippie/college kids and they were smashing beer bottles on the lot. Just for the hell of it, I guess. Laughing up a storm and probably tripping their brains out.
We made it into the stadium right after the opening act. The weather was crisp and really windy. The sky was filled with a ton of colors and constant lightning strikes, but it never rained. They hit the stage and the place went nuts. Bob opened with Hell in a Bucket and Jerry would follow with Shakedown Street. This would be my all-time favorite dead opener. I couldn't have written a better setlist. I loved this whole show. Just had a tremendous vibe. A one-night stand at Soldier Field. Now I get it. They closed out the second set with One More Saturday Night and encored with The Weight. Quite simply, my favorite dead show out of about 50. Like I said, now I get it.
I had an interesting run-in with this Asian kid in the middle of the afternoon. We were standing by the car and we noticed this one hippie riding his bicycle while simultaneously hitting a nitrous balloon. I look to the Asian kid and said "that doesn't look like such a good idea." Before I could finish the sentence, the hippie slammed into a parked car and hit the pavement. The balloon went flying and he was pretty skinned up. Fortunately, he didn't crack his head. After a couple of minutes, the banged-up hippie managed to get to his feet and ride off. I started talking with the Asian kid - he told me his name was James. James and I started walking the lot talking about a variety of topics - where you from, you got a ticket for the show, the usual stuff. He then said that his band was playing tonight and told me "We should go check them out. I'm not going into the show tonight. I've got to play, but I wanted to come down here in the afternoon and check out the scene." I told him I was going to the concert and I doubted my traveling companions would be interested in seeing his show since we were heading to Kansas for another Dead show (that's another story). He mentioned that they were about to embark on a tour and said they'd be playing in Pittsburgh in a few weeks. I asked where and he said the Metropol. I was impressed and mentioned that the place holds almost 1,500. "Are you guys really that big?" He repsonded, "Oh yeah, there's about 4,000 people coming to our gig tonight. We're from Chicago and we're starting a tour to support our national release." I was a little blown away. We ended up hanging out for a couple hours. Right before we split to go into the show, I asked him, "Hey, what's the name of your band anyway?" He looked at me and quietly responded "The Smashing Pumpkins." A year or so later, it dawned on me that it was James Iha - guitarist of the Smashing Pumpkins. I always like that story.
Before the show, there was much speculation of the opener. Lots of people wanted to hear Shakedown Street which hadn't been played all tour. I explained that there's no way because it was Bob's night to open. They'll probably open the second set with it. On the way in, I noticed 2 great personalized license plates - one said "BUCKET", the other "SHKDWN." I wished I'd had my camera on me since I used to take pics of dead plates, but I had left it in the car. We walked by this group of crazed hippie/college kids and they were smashing beer bottles on the lot. Just for the hell of it, I guess. Laughing up a storm and probably tripping their brains out.
We made it into the stadium right after the opening act. The weather was crisp and really windy. The sky was filled with a ton of colors and constant lightning strikes, but it never rained. They hit the stage and the place went nuts. Bob opened with Hell in a Bucket and Jerry would follow with Shakedown Street. This would be my all-time favorite dead opener. I couldn't have written a better setlist. I loved this whole show. Just had a tremendous vibe. A one-night stand at Soldier Field. Now I get it. They closed out the second set with One More Saturday Night and encored with The Weight. Quite simply, my favorite dead show out of about 50. Like I said, now I get it.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Toby Queef
BIG DOG DADDY.
That's the name of his tour. I heard that slogan about 5 times Saturday night. It was rough one, mentally speaking. On Saturday night, about 26 or 27 thousand people (and I use that term loosely) descended on Starlake for the ultimate redneck extravaganza. This throng, I often use the term "mongrel hoard," consisted of mostly drunken outcasts and rebel flag waving morons.
Anyway, I took the opportunity to do a ton of buying and selling. I made an absolute killing. For the first hour, it was just me and this 55 yr. old woman who had 4 lawn tickets she was trying to dish off. Here's the deal. In typical Starlake fashion, they said the lawn was sold-out. So all that was left were pavilion tix. Lawns were $40. Pavilion were $53 and $78. The older woman was a strong representative of what I like to call "that which is shit." She stood directly in front of the ticket window and spoke in a low-talker voice. I would eventually refer to her as "Frumpy." She would repeatedly accuse me of invading her territory. "I was here first." That's about all she could mutter every time I made a sale as she remained in this stoic trance. After the fourth time of her telling me that she was there first, I finally spoke to her rather than just brushing her off. I explained to Frumpzilla that nobody would want to pay $60 for a lawn ticket (yes, she was asking $60) when they could buy a cheaper pavilion ticket at the window. This confused her for about 10 seconds and then she fired back that the lawn was sold-out and some people wanted to sit on the lawn. I then gently explained that the same thing could be accomplished with a cheaper pavilion ticket. She found this line of reasoning to be truly vexing. So she fired back with the common refrain, "Some people want to sit on the lawn. You're a scalper and I was here first." Then I explained the irony of the situation - that I was selling tickets at cost and she was the one trying to scalp. This infuriated her. Then, she started meddling in my sales - trying to rally a stray drunk redneck fuck, here and there. The only problem was that she was too monotone and couldn't inspire the fans of Toby Cunt. Eventually, I told her to just steer clear of me and then mentioned that if it were any of the other scalpers, she'd have been treated much harsher. Just as I made my peace with her, a skinny tattooed kid and his accomplice were trying to dish off some singles. She started to interfere with them too and the one kid menacingly fired back, "Get outta here Grandma!" I just started laughing and smiling coyly.
The reason I mentioned this incident was because it seemed to be a microcosm for the entire evening. If you're offended by my harsh assessment of Toby Queef and his fans, my sincerest apologies. I actually love buying and selling at country music shows. It's what I like to call the "lay down" shows. Country music fans seem to accept the fact that they'll get ripped off. Having been repeated victims and the generally downtrodden segment of society seems to have nulled their senses. They seem more willing to accept their fate and embrace the simple things in life, hence the term BIG DOG DADDY is very appealing. Their negotiation tactics are virtually non-existent. They have an incredibly narrow view of society. That's why they all love George Bush. You're either with us or against us. That dog don't hunt. Blah. Things are always black and white - no middle ground whatsoever. All they know is - ticket gets them inside. Thus, it makes for a perfect "lay down" ticket selling opportunity. No haggling or bartering.
There are a few more Cunt-Tree shows heading this way. I'm predicting great success at Rascall Flatts and to a lesser extent, Brad Paisley. It has been a while since I "tore it up" at Starlake. I'm sure many of those in attendance also "tore it up." Well, in their own way.
That's the name of his tour. I heard that slogan about 5 times Saturday night. It was rough one, mentally speaking. On Saturday night, about 26 or 27 thousand people (and I use that term loosely) descended on Starlake for the ultimate redneck extravaganza. This throng, I often use the term "mongrel hoard," consisted of mostly drunken outcasts and rebel flag waving morons.
Anyway, I took the opportunity to do a ton of buying and selling. I made an absolute killing. For the first hour, it was just me and this 55 yr. old woman who had 4 lawn tickets she was trying to dish off. Here's the deal. In typical Starlake fashion, they said the lawn was sold-out. So all that was left were pavilion tix. Lawns were $40. Pavilion were $53 and $78. The older woman was a strong representative of what I like to call "that which is shit." She stood directly in front of the ticket window and spoke in a low-talker voice. I would eventually refer to her as "Frumpy." She would repeatedly accuse me of invading her territory. "I was here first." That's about all she could mutter every time I made a sale as she remained in this stoic trance. After the fourth time of her telling me that she was there first, I finally spoke to her rather than just brushing her off. I explained to Frumpzilla that nobody would want to pay $60 for a lawn ticket (yes, she was asking $60) when they could buy a cheaper pavilion ticket at the window. This confused her for about 10 seconds and then she fired back that the lawn was sold-out and some people wanted to sit on the lawn. I then gently explained that the same thing could be accomplished with a cheaper pavilion ticket. She found this line of reasoning to be truly vexing. So she fired back with the common refrain, "Some people want to sit on the lawn. You're a scalper and I was here first." Then I explained the irony of the situation - that I was selling tickets at cost and she was the one trying to scalp. This infuriated her. Then, she started meddling in my sales - trying to rally a stray drunk redneck fuck, here and there. The only problem was that she was too monotone and couldn't inspire the fans of Toby Cunt. Eventually, I told her to just steer clear of me and then mentioned that if it were any of the other scalpers, she'd have been treated much harsher. Just as I made my peace with her, a skinny tattooed kid and his accomplice were trying to dish off some singles. She started to interfere with them too and the one kid menacingly fired back, "Get outta here Grandma!" I just started laughing and smiling coyly.
The reason I mentioned this incident was because it seemed to be a microcosm for the entire evening. If you're offended by my harsh assessment of Toby Queef and his fans, my sincerest apologies. I actually love buying and selling at country music shows. It's what I like to call the "lay down" shows. Country music fans seem to accept the fact that they'll get ripped off. Having been repeated victims and the generally downtrodden segment of society seems to have nulled their senses. They seem more willing to accept their fate and embrace the simple things in life, hence the term BIG DOG DADDY is very appealing. Their negotiation tactics are virtually non-existent. They have an incredibly narrow view of society. That's why they all love George Bush. You're either with us or against us. That dog don't hunt. Blah. Things are always black and white - no middle ground whatsoever. All they know is - ticket gets them inside. Thus, it makes for a perfect "lay down" ticket selling opportunity. No haggling or bartering.
There are a few more Cunt-Tree shows heading this way. I'm predicting great success at Rascall Flatts and to a lesser extent, Brad Paisley. It has been a while since I "tore it up" at Starlake. I'm sure many of those in attendance also "tore it up." Well, in their own way.
Monday, July 16, 2007
party - Friday, July 20
Come celebrate the birthdays of Danno (prelude to the 4th annual Dannopen) and G Mo (Rrroar). Yeah, yeah, I know... Saf, it's the same day as Jamboree in the Hills. I can't afford to miss the excitement of Friday night at Stankfest.
Perhaps it would be best to explain how my party will differ from Jamboree in the Hills. This way, you can make a competent decision on whether to attend.
10) At Jambo, scantily clad morbidly obese women are prevalent. At my place, this is not the case.
9) In regards to education... At Jambo, there is a spattering of high school diplomas. On the other hand, I had to go to summer school - The bastards made me take basic English because I didn't have enough credits. F'in Krelis.
8) At Jambo, smoking cigarettes and chewing tobacco is widely encouraged. At my place, widely discouraged.
7) At Jambo, people are covered in mud. At my place, you'll be asked to not track mud in the house.
6) At Jambo, you'll hear the ongoing invigorating debate of Chevy vs. Ford. At my place, it's foosball vs. dome.
5) At Jambo, you'll smell the acrid stench of incest. At my place, you'll be greeted by scents of Papaya Mango and Hawaiian Breeze. Mmmmm. Pleasant.
4) Jambo is in Ohio. My place is in Ohio County.
3) At Jambo, you'll see the running of the rednecks. At my place, it's the scurrying of the groundhogs.
2) At Jambo, parking is five bucks. At my place, parking is a measure of your worth as a human being.
And finally...
1) At Jambo, George W. Bush is hailed as a great leader with a keen intellect. At my place, George Bush is the equivalent of dogshit.
So there you go. All members of the message board and their friends are welcome.
Here's the specifics...
Friday, July 20
Happy Hour (6pm til close)
BYOB and BYOcooler - don't shove your shitty Bud Light bottles in my defenseless crisper.
Here's something new. Don't park in the middle of the 3 pt. turn.
I'll provide food. More than just a cucumber slice.
No kids.
Feel free to crash out. Beds and couches are on a first come, first serve basis. Tents are welcome. The local bars will all be empty because most drunks are at Stankfest in the Hills.
No RSVP.
Directions: Near Wheeling Park - Take Romney Road. Right on Brook. Left on Ridgewood. Go threw the gate all the way to the top. Do not go near my neighbor. Your existence sickens him. You can park on the side of his driveway, if you wish.
Perhaps it would be best to explain how my party will differ from Jamboree in the Hills. This way, you can make a competent decision on whether to attend.
10) At Jambo, scantily clad morbidly obese women are prevalent. At my place, this is not the case.
9) In regards to education... At Jambo, there is a spattering of high school diplomas. On the other hand, I had to go to summer school - The bastards made me take basic English because I didn't have enough credits. F'in Krelis.
8) At Jambo, smoking cigarettes and chewing tobacco is widely encouraged. At my place, widely discouraged.
7) At Jambo, people are covered in mud. At my place, you'll be asked to not track mud in the house.
6) At Jambo, you'll hear the ongoing invigorating debate of Chevy vs. Ford. At my place, it's foosball vs. dome.
5) At Jambo, you'll smell the acrid stench of incest. At my place, you'll be greeted by scents of Papaya Mango and Hawaiian Breeze. Mmmmm. Pleasant.
4) Jambo is in Ohio. My place is in Ohio County.
3) At Jambo, you'll see the running of the rednecks. At my place, it's the scurrying of the groundhogs.
2) At Jambo, parking is five bucks. At my place, parking is a measure of your worth as a human being.
And finally...
1) At Jambo, George W. Bush is hailed as a great leader with a keen intellect. At my place, George Bush is the equivalent of dogshit.
So there you go. All members of the message board and their friends are welcome.
Here's the specifics...
Friday, July 20
Happy Hour (6pm til close)
BYOB and BYOcooler - don't shove your shitty Bud Light bottles in my defenseless crisper.
Here's something new. Don't park in the middle of the 3 pt. turn.
I'll provide food. More than just a cucumber slice.
No kids.
Feel free to crash out. Beds and couches are on a first come, first serve basis. Tents are welcome. The local bars will all be empty because most drunks are at Stankfest in the Hills.
No RSVP.
Directions: Near Wheeling Park - Take Romney Road. Right on Brook. Left on Ridgewood. Go threw the gate all the way to the top. Do not go near my neighbor. Your existence sickens him. You can park on the side of his driveway, if you wish.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
B&B
There was a lengthy article in yesterdays Wheeling Unintelligencer about this woman who's opening a bed and breakfast in North Wheeling. Cool. Apparently, she had to go through some rigorous process to get the proper zoning ordinance. Way to go. F'in A.
Who the fuck opens a B&B in North Wheeling? First off, it's in that giant house right next to I 70 on Market Street. Aren't these places supposed to be all about peace and tranquility? Why would you open one up that's basically right on top of the 3rd busiest interstate in the country? I think 95 and 10 are first and second - just speculating. Can you imagine trying to sleep and while some 18 wheeler is barrelling through? Only in Wheeling.
Now, how about that lovely setting, huh? Yeah, it's serene. Whether it's some homeless dude sleeping on a bench or perhaps the cunting whore involved in a domestic squabble, this just ain't right. And why is it that every male (in the 16-30 age bracket) is shirtless in North Wheeling? They wander to that Convenient with their shorts around their ankles and use the only pay phone in all of Wheeling to make crucial drug purchases. And I'm not talking weed. More like some kind of black tar heroin shit.
And how about the mattresses? I have no proof but I'm pretty sure she uses the pee stanied ones from the St. Vincent's (which incidentally is now called the Shabby Sheek Boutique). I've said it many times - You can take the tomato sauce out of a t-shirt, but you can't take the urine out of a mattress.
If you saw the picture of this enterprising businesswoman, it would become much clearer. She truly puts the HO in HOMELY. Maybe she could offer breakfast in the form of Sonny Boy takeout. Maybe jack up the price by a dollar. So instead of the standard $1.99 breakfast, it costs $2.99. I wonder how much she'll actually charge visitors. I'm always a big supporter of entrepenurial endeavors, but c'mon, WHAT THE FUCK!
Who the fuck opens a B&B in North Wheeling? First off, it's in that giant house right next to I 70 on Market Street. Aren't these places supposed to be all about peace and tranquility? Why would you open one up that's basically right on top of the 3rd busiest interstate in the country? I think 95 and 10 are first and second - just speculating. Can you imagine trying to sleep and while some 18 wheeler is barrelling through? Only in Wheeling.
Now, how about that lovely setting, huh? Yeah, it's serene. Whether it's some homeless dude sleeping on a bench or perhaps the cunting whore involved in a domestic squabble, this just ain't right. And why is it that every male (in the 16-30 age bracket) is shirtless in North Wheeling? They wander to that Convenient with their shorts around their ankles and use the only pay phone in all of Wheeling to make crucial drug purchases. And I'm not talking weed. More like some kind of black tar heroin shit.
And how about the mattresses? I have no proof but I'm pretty sure she uses the pee stanied ones from the St. Vincent's (which incidentally is now called the Shabby Sheek Boutique). I've said it many times - You can take the tomato sauce out of a t-shirt, but you can't take the urine out of a mattress.
If you saw the picture of this enterprising businesswoman, it would become much clearer. She truly puts the HO in HOMELY. Maybe she could offer breakfast in the form of Sonny Boy takeout. Maybe jack up the price by a dollar. So instead of the standard $1.99 breakfast, it costs $2.99. I wonder how much she'll actually charge visitors. I'm always a big supporter of entrepenurial endeavors, but c'mon, WHAT THE FUCK!
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Grass
No, not marijuana. I'm talking about Mrs. Grass soup mix. I made a major blunder about 10 days ago. I was looking for a good powdered chicken soup mix and settled for Mrs. Weiss. If I had just taken a moment and possibly gotten some outside input, this wouldn't have been such a fiasco. I find it a little strange that there are 2 major competitors in the powdered soup mix niche both of whom sound very similar. Just as long as Grandma Reisbeck doesn't enter the fray, we should be alright.
Mrs. Grass, aside from having a very hip, retro 1970's name, is far superior. The soup tastes more flavorful. Why you ask? Why do you give a fuck? Does anyone really care. Probably not. It's because of the golden nugget flavor medallion. Although Mrs. Grass has plenty of powdered chicken sodium, they throw in this tiny bullion cube which melts away into flavor country as the water boils. This appears to be the major difference between these two corporate soup dispensers. The salted medallion is actually shaped like a diamond. This really enhances the whole dining experience. As you occassionaly stir the soup, you get this added bonus entertainment. Look, there's the gold nugget. Look it's slowly disintegrating. It's almost gone. It has dissipated beyond my visual acuity skills. What happened? It has become one with the soup.
I alluded to the hip, retro 1970's moniker. With the recent popularity of "That 70's Show", I think Mrs. Grass could really become a big hit in the entire powdered chicken soup milieu. If they play there cards right, they could increase their market share from 43% to 45%. I think this would make all of us take a moment, stand back and truly reflect.
Mrs. Grass, aside from having a very hip, retro 1970's name, is far superior. The soup tastes more flavorful. Why you ask? Why do you give a fuck? Does anyone really care. Probably not. It's because of the golden nugget flavor medallion. Although Mrs. Grass has plenty of powdered chicken sodium, they throw in this tiny bullion cube which melts away into flavor country as the water boils. This appears to be the major difference between these two corporate soup dispensers. The salted medallion is actually shaped like a diamond. This really enhances the whole dining experience. As you occassionaly stir the soup, you get this added bonus entertainment. Look, there's the gold nugget. Look it's slowly disintegrating. It's almost gone. It has dissipated beyond my visual acuity skills. What happened? It has become one with the soup.
I alluded to the hip, retro 1970's moniker. With the recent popularity of "That 70's Show", I think Mrs. Grass could really become a big hit in the entire powdered chicken soup milieu. If they play there cards right, they could increase their market share from 43% to 45%. I think this would make all of us take a moment, stand back and truly reflect.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Mrs. Weiss
While at Reisbecks I decided to buy some soup. Nothing fancy, just your basic chicken noodle. There were an abundance of choices as usual. That's what democracy and capitalism are all about. We don't get much input on major foreign policy issues, but we do get our choice of 100 different kinds of toothpaste - I prefer the Scope enhanced Crest with extra cleansing power.
Anyway, against my better judgement I opted for Mrs. Weiss homeade chicken soup. It came in a box consisting of 2 packets for $1.39. Not exactly sure if the powdery bullion was really "homeade" but that's ok. What really seemed odd is what it said on the box - "The NOODLE LOVERS Chicken Soup." I glanced at the packet and there were hardly any noodles at all. Then it said to mix the contents of the packet with 5 cups of boiling water. Judging from the amount of the Mrs. Weiss' salt/noodle packet, it looked as though 3 cups would be a better ratio. And at the time, I was overwhelmed with the idea of loving noodles. So I decided to make the adjustment in utter defiance of Mrs. Weiss - One packet to 3 cups of water. The result was an overly chicken salted fluidic catastrophe. The noodles were good, but there really weren't that many. At least not enough to satiate the needs of a NOODLE LOVER.
So there's the warning - if you are ever tempted by Mrs. Weiss (not Al's mom), please exercise some restraint.
Anyway, against my better judgement I opted for Mrs. Weiss homeade chicken soup. It came in a box consisting of 2 packets for $1.39. Not exactly sure if the powdery bullion was really "homeade" but that's ok. What really seemed odd is what it said on the box - "The NOODLE LOVERS Chicken Soup." I glanced at the packet and there were hardly any noodles at all. Then it said to mix the contents of the packet with 5 cups of boiling water. Judging from the amount of the Mrs. Weiss' salt/noodle packet, it looked as though 3 cups would be a better ratio. And at the time, I was overwhelmed with the idea of loving noodles. So I decided to make the adjustment in utter defiance of Mrs. Weiss - One packet to 3 cups of water. The result was an overly chicken salted fluidic catastrophe. The noodles were good, but there really weren't that many. At least not enough to satiate the needs of a NOODLE LOVER.
So there's the warning - if you are ever tempted by Mrs. Weiss (not Al's mom), please exercise some restraint.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Quiznos is questionable
Has anyone seen that new Quiznos commercial for their prime rib sandwich? It features this little Asian girl at the end who says, "It's got a lotta meat, and that's what real women want. HeeHeeeeHaaaHeee...emoticon giggling." Anyway, after seeing this ringing endorsement of their new sandwich, I decided to check it out. I went to Quiznos when they first opened and hadn't been back since. The non-existent parking lot doesn't help matters either. Makes it more appealing to the nomadic transients of Wheeling which doesn't bode well for the overall dining-in experience.
The first thing I noticed was that the "sandwich artisan" was squeezing a shitload of some kind of "green mayo-inspired substance" (possibly cilantro infused) onto a sandwich. I glanced at the menu board and it said it came with mayo. Fearing an inundation, I opted to have them hold the mayo. Don't worry, I didn't actually say those words - hold the mayo. I think I said, "Could you please refrain from using any condiments." Anyway, my options were small, medium or large. I opted for the medium. a few minutes later my $7.50 sandwich was in my hands. I also got an overpriced bag of jalapeno chips which jacked up the meal (no drink) to almost nine bucks. Pretty steep for take-out from a mid-end sandwich shack.
My overall impression of the meal was not good. I've said it before and I'll say it again. There's good and there's not good. This was not good. Don't be fooled by the Asian hottie in the commercial. The sandwich was slightly below mediocre. However, the chips were pretty good.
The first thing I noticed was that the "sandwich artisan" was squeezing a shitload of some kind of "green mayo-inspired substance" (possibly cilantro infused) onto a sandwich. I glanced at the menu board and it said it came with mayo. Fearing an inundation, I opted to have them hold the mayo. Don't worry, I didn't actually say those words - hold the mayo. I think I said, "Could you please refrain from using any condiments." Anyway, my options were small, medium or large. I opted for the medium. a few minutes later my $7.50 sandwich was in my hands. I also got an overpriced bag of jalapeno chips which jacked up the meal (no drink) to almost nine bucks. Pretty steep for take-out from a mid-end sandwich shack.
My overall impression of the meal was not good. I've said it before and I'll say it again. There's good and there's not good. This was not good. Don't be fooled by the Asian hottie in the commercial. The sandwich was slightly below mediocre. However, the chips were pretty good.
Monday, March 19, 2007
"buying" the presidency
It's pretty obvious that the 2008 election is wide open. You've got the major players - Clinton, Obama, Guliani, McCain, Edwards and about 10 other lesser figures who think they've got a shot. I expect to see a few Independent candidates enter the fray as well. The trick is you probably need about a hundred million and some serious name recognition if you are going to pose a reasonable threat. Right now there are about 350 billionaires in the US and I think about 800 worldwide. That's a ton of cash in the hands of a select few. I would not be surprised if one of these billionaires, perhaps an businessman/egomaniac/entertainer decided to throw his weight around. There are plenty of young dot com entrepeneurs out there as well.
In the past few decades, there has been a ton of corporate spending and individual fundraising which has had a dramatic impact on who can or can't run effectively. Considering the vast amount of wealth in the hands of a select few, I think it's highly probable that one of these billionaires would try and take a shot. Here's the catch - they'll all be regarded as trying to buy the presidency and will likely fail. HOWEVER, if you could persuade one of these guys to bankroll an independent candidate (say to the tune of 100 or 200 million) - I think it would work. Imagine a guy like the MSNBC news reporter Chris Matthews with a centrist philosophy (social liberal, fiscal conservative) who has a vibrant personality with incredible extemperanous speaking abilities deciding to make the run. He has fantastic name recognition and strong credibility. Most importantly, he has no reason to pander to the DC lobbyists or corporate bullies because he has been totally bankrolled. The bankroller can claim that he/she is doing this for the good of the country and will decline any position in the future govt. They could use the line - the last thing this country needs is another easily-influenced politician (governor, mayor, senator, etc.). We need someone from the outside who will stand up for what he thinks is right. Listen up, I'm doing this for purely philanthropic purposes. The candidate would have a free hand to run things as he sees fit. The candidate (for hypothetical reasons, let's say it is Chris Matthews) would have enormous advantages. You could wage your campaign after the primary season, so you wouldn't have to waste any money in the build-up. Even though money is irrelevant with this scenario. Plus, you'd make your announcement right after the nomination process and totally steal the momentum from both parties. Your campaign could be largely waged through the media - television advertising - since money is no object.
The trick would be finding one of these billionaires who has a vested interest in turning this country around and who's not an egomaniac that thinks he can win the presidency himself. For some reason, Donald Trump keeps coming to mind. He could personally run, but he couldn't win (at least I pray not). But judging from his love of publicity and recent anti-Bush bashing, I wouldn't be surprised if he has considered this new concept. The only downside is that you and your candidate might wind up dead. I can't think of a better scenario designed to infuriate the entire political establishment. The beauty of this picture - it's very difficult to question the bankroller's motivation. They are pursuing this course "for the good the country." I can't imagine a situation more appealing to someone like Trump. All of a sudden, he's the most sought after interview on the planet and his underlying inspiration is noble.
I'm throwing this out there because the 2008 election is wide open. And I've got to believe that all this unbridled individual capitalism eventually has to play an even greater role in determining our leaders (instead of it always being the corporate sector). There's balance out there in all aspects of government, including capitalism and democracy.
Regardless, of this potential scenario shaking things up, I do there will be a few more independent candidates who launch campaigns after the primary season. There's a a gap forming for a universally liked, centrist candidate. All they need is a couple hundred million. The main difference between the 2008 election and other recent elections is that this one presents a credible opportunity. Just something to think about....
By the way, if one or a few other "power" candidates jump in, I think it guarantees a Hillary victory. Her base isn't going anywhere. She could win with a diluted vote - a lot like her husband in 1992 when Ross Perot siphoned off the Bush Sr. vote.
In the past few decades, there has been a ton of corporate spending and individual fundraising which has had a dramatic impact on who can or can't run effectively. Considering the vast amount of wealth in the hands of a select few, I think it's highly probable that one of these billionaires would try and take a shot. Here's the catch - they'll all be regarded as trying to buy the presidency and will likely fail. HOWEVER, if you could persuade one of these guys to bankroll an independent candidate (say to the tune of 100 or 200 million) - I think it would work. Imagine a guy like the MSNBC news reporter Chris Matthews with a centrist philosophy (social liberal, fiscal conservative) who has a vibrant personality with incredible extemperanous speaking abilities deciding to make the run. He has fantastic name recognition and strong credibility. Most importantly, he has no reason to pander to the DC lobbyists or corporate bullies because he has been totally bankrolled. The bankroller can claim that he/she is doing this for the good of the country and will decline any position in the future govt. They could use the line - the last thing this country needs is another easily-influenced politician (governor, mayor, senator, etc.). We need someone from the outside who will stand up for what he thinks is right. Listen up, I'm doing this for purely philanthropic purposes. The candidate would have a free hand to run things as he sees fit. The candidate (for hypothetical reasons, let's say it is Chris Matthews) would have enormous advantages. You could wage your campaign after the primary season, so you wouldn't have to waste any money in the build-up. Even though money is irrelevant with this scenario. Plus, you'd make your announcement right after the nomination process and totally steal the momentum from both parties. Your campaign could be largely waged through the media - television advertising - since money is no object.
The trick would be finding one of these billionaires who has a vested interest in turning this country around and who's not an egomaniac that thinks he can win the presidency himself. For some reason, Donald Trump keeps coming to mind. He could personally run, but he couldn't win (at least I pray not). But judging from his love of publicity and recent anti-Bush bashing, I wouldn't be surprised if he has considered this new concept. The only downside is that you and your candidate might wind up dead. I can't think of a better scenario designed to infuriate the entire political establishment. The beauty of this picture - it's very difficult to question the bankroller's motivation. They are pursuing this course "for the good the country." I can't imagine a situation more appealing to someone like Trump. All of a sudden, he's the most sought after interview on the planet and his underlying inspiration is noble.
I'm throwing this out there because the 2008 election is wide open. And I've got to believe that all this unbridled individual capitalism eventually has to play an even greater role in determining our leaders (instead of it always being the corporate sector). There's balance out there in all aspects of government, including capitalism and democracy.
Regardless, of this potential scenario shaking things up, I do there will be a few more independent candidates who launch campaigns after the primary season. There's a a gap forming for a universally liked, centrist candidate. All they need is a couple hundred million. The main difference between the 2008 election and other recent elections is that this one presents a credible opportunity. Just something to think about....
By the way, if one or a few other "power" candidates jump in, I think it guarantees a Hillary victory. Her base isn't going anywhere. She could win with a diluted vote - a lot like her husband in 1992 when Ross Perot siphoned off the Bush Sr. vote.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Scooter Libby Trial
Yeah, I realize this blog is supposed to be about restaurant & concert revies and sometimes anti-religious tirades but I thought I'd weigh in on something a little more serious. After seeing the Libby trial come to a close, it made me reflect on the war in Iraq and how we got there. I think everyone can agree (regardless of political affiliation) that Scooter Libby was the "fall guy" for Cheney and Rove. Basically, someone had to be held accountable for the outing of Valerie Plame and the Joe Wilson smear campaign. It ended up being him. I can't envision a scenario where Bush doesn't pardon him at the end of his term. I truly doubt he'll do 20 years in a medium security prison. However, it'll bve a while before all that plays out.
But anyway, here's my thoughts on Iraq. You always see the press get caught up in the minor details and avoid the larger, more "surreal" issues. Most people realize that Cheney and his buddies (not Bush) were eager to get rid of Saddam and alter the landscape of the Middle East. I think post 9/11, Cheney was thinking to himself - "We've got to do more than Afghanistan. It's simply not enough. We need to send a statement to the world that if you're a rogue dictator who gets in bed with a terrorist organization, then your days are numbered." Strangely enough, I tend to agree with this underlying message. Afghanistan was simply "not enough." And let's face it, we couldn't go to war with Iran or North Korea at that moment. You've got to pick your enemies carefully - ones you can crush. Something more needed to happen. I just didn't agree with the necessity of invading and occupying Iraq (from the beginning). What's really weird is how Cheney, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld and Perle got together and convinced a naive president that we were going to liberate the Middle East. These guys fed Bush the "spreading Democracy" routine. We will be greeted as liberators, not occupiers. Oil revenue will pay for the war. Saddam has got go. Bush ate this stuff for breakfast. All his early speeches were about liberating the oppressed Iraqis. Iraq will be a shining example of freedom and inspire reform throughout the Middle East. Why have people forgotten this stuff?
What's really sad is that our President has always believed this stuff. He really believed that if we conquered Iraq, there would be a domino effect and Syria, the Palestinians, Saudi Arabia and all the others would magically transform. My question is... I understand the Cheney rationale that "something more than Afghanistan needed to happen," but how could we elect a President who, til this day, does not realize what is going on. And I assure you, he still doesn't know. That's what is truly scary. I know all this stuff gets touched on in the media and they often mention how Cheney runs the White House, but I think the press would be well-advised to look into the HUGE DISCONNECT between the president and the v.p. I think what's really sinister is that Cheney has convinced Bush Jr. that he's the one calling the shots. Bush really thinks that he's the one defining global policy. Trust me, Bush doesn't know this is happening. And it's still happening.
But anyway, here's my thoughts on Iraq. You always see the press get caught up in the minor details and avoid the larger, more "surreal" issues. Most people realize that Cheney and his buddies (not Bush) were eager to get rid of Saddam and alter the landscape of the Middle East. I think post 9/11, Cheney was thinking to himself - "We've got to do more than Afghanistan. It's simply not enough. We need to send a statement to the world that if you're a rogue dictator who gets in bed with a terrorist organization, then your days are numbered." Strangely enough, I tend to agree with this underlying message. Afghanistan was simply "not enough." And let's face it, we couldn't go to war with Iran or North Korea at that moment. You've got to pick your enemies carefully - ones you can crush. Something more needed to happen. I just didn't agree with the necessity of invading and occupying Iraq (from the beginning). What's really weird is how Cheney, Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld and Perle got together and convinced a naive president that we were going to liberate the Middle East. These guys fed Bush the "spreading Democracy" routine. We will be greeted as liberators, not occupiers. Oil revenue will pay for the war. Saddam has got go. Bush ate this stuff for breakfast. All his early speeches were about liberating the oppressed Iraqis. Iraq will be a shining example of freedom and inspire reform throughout the Middle East. Why have people forgotten this stuff?
What's really sad is that our President has always believed this stuff. He really believed that if we conquered Iraq, there would be a domino effect and Syria, the Palestinians, Saudi Arabia and all the others would magically transform. My question is... I understand the Cheney rationale that "something more than Afghanistan needed to happen," but how could we elect a President who, til this day, does not realize what is going on. And I assure you, he still doesn't know. That's what is truly scary. I know all this stuff gets touched on in the media and they often mention how Cheney runs the White House, but I think the press would be well-advised to look into the HUGE DISCONNECT between the president and the v.p. I think what's really sinister is that Cheney has convinced Bush Jr. that he's the one calling the shots. Bush really thinks that he's the one defining global policy. Trust me, Bush doesn't know this is happening. And it's still happening.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
DSO
Five of us went to see DSO last night in beautiful Millvale, PA. A slightly amusing anecdote - I was at this Superbowl party in Bridgeport the day before and ran into this one dude who looked familiar but I just couldn't place him. Anyway, we're talking about the lull in activities that comes to the area following the Superbowl. Think about it; it's freezing cold, no football games, no outdoor festivities, etc. Then I mentioned that we were going to a concert the next day. He inquired who and where. I told him it was one of those hippie bands (incidentally, I think DSO is far superior to the Grateful Dead, but that's another story entirely) in Millvale. He asked, "Where's that?" and I explained it was about 5 minutes North outside downtown Pittbsurgh. Then I said, "It's a really shitty area. You know, kind of like a Pittsburgh version of McMechon. He looked at me blankly and said, "I'm from McMechon." Then we spoke further and he mentioned he was a Bishop Donahue graduate. I asked him if he ever had Leigh Cliser teach him English and he said, "Oh yeah, Mrs. Cliser was my English teacher. Wait a minute, is that how I know you?" I responded, "Yeah, we dated all through the mid 90's. I think I helped "chaperone" one of your high school dances. In retrospect, she was one of the chaperones and I'm pretty sure I stopped by for a few minutes in a mildly drunken state.
Anyway, the show was decent. Here's the setlist as I remember it...
Greatest Story, TLEO, Me & My Uncle>Mexicali, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, Never Trust a Woman, Lazy Lightning>Suppilication Jam, some song I've never heard before but everyone else erupted (must have been some old Dead tune from a studio release), Cassidy
2nd set - Touch of Grey, Women are Smarter, Crazy Fingers, Sugar Magnolia, an absolute killer drums/space > Gimme Some Lovin > Black Peter > Miracle > Liberty (I really like that song) > SSDD. Encore - Might Quinn. Filler - some song I've never heard before, maybe one of their own. Sounded a little like that "Up on Cripple Creek" tune.
All in all, I liked the show. They had the Donna woman impersonater on stage so I thought it would be a 70's show which I generally don't care for. Then, it became apparent it was an original setlist. For the most part, I liked the selection and the musicianship is always fantastic. Like I've always maintained - these guys are much better than the Dead. What really was unimpressive was the men's bathroom. One restroom to accomodate about 900 people. Let's see, 2 urinals (one overflowing with piss and cigarette butts) and 1 toilet with a curtain barrier. Did I mention the sink was filled with vomit? Looked like the remains of low-end pizza, perhaps Little Cesears. When I exited the bathroom I slipped and almost fell. Fortunately the urine on the floor must have been a little sticky - probably due to the dark, heady beer drunk by most of the hippies in attendance.
The place was packed solid. Cold as hell until the deranged melange of mother and father shabooboos warmed the place up. The weather outside was about -3. The positive benefit is that the greater the layers of clothing tend to allay the stench of the mongrol hoard. We bolted home and stopped for Wendy's in my fake hometown of Canonsburg. Everyone deserves props for ordering correctly. No idiots from the backseat barking out random orders, words like "yummy"- "Mc anything"- "extra, extra, extra onions," etc. No condiment mishaps. Just a solid effort from everyone during the whole drive-thru process. I was even more concerned because we pulled up at 12:52am and they closed at 1am. That's generally a recipe for disaster but it all worked out ok.
Here are the final rankings:
The concert - 8.1
Our team of five (me, Rox, Heather, G Max, Ben S.) - 8
Late night drive thru - 8.3
Music selction on the way up and back got mixed reviews. A 311 bootleg - Ben and I liked it, Stollar couldn't hack it. Some brief Dead. On the way back, more 311 and it finally descended into "radio thug" music. All in all - 7.3
The restrooms at Mr. Smalls Funhouse - 1.1
The weather outside - 1 (and I do mean ONE).
Anyway, the show was decent. Here's the setlist as I remember it...
Greatest Story, TLEO, Me & My Uncle>Mexicali, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, Never Trust a Woman, Lazy Lightning>Suppilication Jam, some song I've never heard before but everyone else erupted (must have been some old Dead tune from a studio release), Cassidy
2nd set - Touch of Grey, Women are Smarter, Crazy Fingers, Sugar Magnolia, an absolute killer drums/space > Gimme Some Lovin > Black Peter > Miracle > Liberty (I really like that song) > SSDD. Encore - Might Quinn. Filler - some song I've never heard before, maybe one of their own. Sounded a little like that "Up on Cripple Creek" tune.
All in all, I liked the show. They had the Donna woman impersonater on stage so I thought it would be a 70's show which I generally don't care for. Then, it became apparent it was an original setlist. For the most part, I liked the selection and the musicianship is always fantastic. Like I've always maintained - these guys are much better than the Dead. What really was unimpressive was the men's bathroom. One restroom to accomodate about 900 people. Let's see, 2 urinals (one overflowing with piss and cigarette butts) and 1 toilet with a curtain barrier. Did I mention the sink was filled with vomit? Looked like the remains of low-end pizza, perhaps Little Cesears. When I exited the bathroom I slipped and almost fell. Fortunately the urine on the floor must have been a little sticky - probably due to the dark, heady beer drunk by most of the hippies in attendance.
The place was packed solid. Cold as hell until the deranged melange of mother and father shabooboos warmed the place up. The weather outside was about -3. The positive benefit is that the greater the layers of clothing tend to allay the stench of the mongrol hoard. We bolted home and stopped for Wendy's in my fake hometown of Canonsburg. Everyone deserves props for ordering correctly. No idiots from the backseat barking out random orders, words like "yummy"- "Mc anything"- "extra, extra, extra onions," etc. No condiment mishaps. Just a solid effort from everyone during the whole drive-thru process. I was even more concerned because we pulled up at 12:52am and they closed at 1am. That's generally a recipe for disaster but it all worked out ok.
Here are the final rankings:
The concert - 8.1
Our team of five (me, Rox, Heather, G Max, Ben S.) - 8
Late night drive thru - 8.3
Music selction on the way up and back got mixed reviews. A 311 bootleg - Ben and I liked it, Stollar couldn't hack it. Some brief Dead. On the way back, more 311 and it finally descended into "radio thug" music. All in all - 7.3
The restrooms at Mr. Smalls Funhouse - 1.1
The weather outside - 1 (and I do mean ONE).
Monday, January 29, 2007
Later (Gators)
I'm still not sure whether this place is called Laters or Later Gators. This restaurant opened over the summer down in Center Wheeling. It's located next to Saseen's which I've always considered kind of a grease pit a la Mel's Diner. Laters is the EXACT opposite. They serve mostly soup, sandwiches and crepes. Yeah, you heard me, crepes. For those diehard Wheeling residents, a crepe is a thin version of a pancake. You're probably thinking, "Wow Saf, thanks for the culinary lesson." Harsh Reality Ohio County Alert - I think 15% of the customers probably make this inquiry.
The place is open til 9pm. I'm not sure I'd go there for dinner but it's perfectly suited for lunch. The sandwiches are definitely above par - great reuben. The owner seems to have a lsight obsession with avocados which is cool with me. I like avocados although I hate it when people use the word "guack" instead of guacamole. I hope the recent devestation of the California citrus crop doesn't alter any tactical menu decsions. The crepes are outstanding as well; however, they're a tiny bit pricey (by Wheeling standards). But then again, every time you raise the price of a beer by a quarter or a Chinese buffet by a buck, there is an outcry in this town. Elderly women get so incensed, they send letters to the editor, spread hostile rumors at church bingo and basically do everything in their power to launch a counter-insurgence.
Anything you order seems to be accompanied by a garnish consisting of 6 strands of non-iceberg lettuce and 3 mandarin oranges. It's a nice touch, but occasionally the juice from the oranges tries to infiltrate the sandwich or crepe.
This place is fantastic. Great food, great service and a very pleasant atmosphere. The ambience is terrific and I'm not one who's consumed with the decorative nature of the universe. . You're magically transported to a major city for a brief moment in time. Regrettably, at some point, you must exit the building and you're back on Chapline St. Then, reality sets in when you see an old lady with severe osteoperosis wheeling a rusty shopping cart filled with low-end powder detergent. Then, you accidentally overhear an "afternoon hooker" who laments, "I'm tired of prostitutin my body." At this point, you calmly remove the $1.00 ticket from your windshield because you neglected to put a dime in the meter. I suggest you hit I-470. Downtown Wheeling will be fucked for the next year as they fix the I-70 tunnels. Yeah, I know they said it would only take 3 months. Yeah, Right!
By the way, the crepes all have creative names. One time I ordered The Crepes of Wrath and the waitress said, "Oooh yeah, you're getting the Wrath. Good choice!" This was the best thing that happened to me in 2006.
The place is open til 9pm. I'm not sure I'd go there for dinner but it's perfectly suited for lunch. The sandwiches are definitely above par - great reuben. The owner seems to have a lsight obsession with avocados which is cool with me. I like avocados although I hate it when people use the word "guack" instead of guacamole. I hope the recent devestation of the California citrus crop doesn't alter any tactical menu decsions. The crepes are outstanding as well; however, they're a tiny bit pricey (by Wheeling standards). But then again, every time you raise the price of a beer by a quarter or a Chinese buffet by a buck, there is an outcry in this town. Elderly women get so incensed, they send letters to the editor, spread hostile rumors at church bingo and basically do everything in their power to launch a counter-insurgence.
Anything you order seems to be accompanied by a garnish consisting of 6 strands of non-iceberg lettuce and 3 mandarin oranges. It's a nice touch, but occasionally the juice from the oranges tries to infiltrate the sandwich or crepe.
This place is fantastic. Great food, great service and a very pleasant atmosphere. The ambience is terrific and I'm not one who's consumed with the decorative nature of the universe. . You're magically transported to a major city for a brief moment in time. Regrettably, at some point, you must exit the building and you're back on Chapline St. Then, reality sets in when you see an old lady with severe osteoperosis wheeling a rusty shopping cart filled with low-end powder detergent. Then, you accidentally overhear an "afternoon hooker" who laments, "I'm tired of prostitutin my body." At this point, you calmly remove the $1.00 ticket from your windshield because you neglected to put a dime in the meter. I suggest you hit I-470. Downtown Wheeling will be fucked for the next year as they fix the I-70 tunnels. Yeah, I know they said it would only take 3 months. Yeah, Right!
By the way, the crepes all have creative names. One time I ordered The Crepes of Wrath and the waitress said, "Oooh yeah, you're getting the Wrath. Good choice!" This was the best thing that happened to me in 2006.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The Who
This one is most certainly blogworthy. Josh and I had discussed going to see The Who in Columbus for a while. Well, the big day finally arrived yesterday. Tickets were so expensive it was ludicrous. We checked the website and they seemed to have a limited number of the $79.00 tickets available. Keep in mind, prices ranged from a low of $59 (+ service fee) to a high of $400.
Well, I was mildly concerned about making the long drive (this ain't no Pittsburgh trip) w/o tix in hand. Yet, I wasn't too worried becuase the show fell on a Monday and it was in Columbus. Columbus, or if you prefer its correct title, CAP CITY is a cool city but the people are generally lifeless. The same exact phenomena occurs in Cleveland. Maybe it was all those George Bush campaign stops that just sapped the spirit out of these towns. I can't attribute it all to W, this "uninspired vibe" has always been a trademark of major cities in Ohio. Cincy is an exception.
Anyway, we met at the Alpha. It was me, Josh, Kelly and crazy Kathy. I've got be honest, I was a little worried about the "integrity" of our crew. Kathy was armed with only a Mastercard (doesn't bode well for scoring tix in the lot) and a desire to call shotgun. Much to my chagrin, we rolled out at the designated time - 5pm. The ride up was basically uneventful. Kathy has a unique ability. She can effortlessly introduce random topics into a converstaion that have nothing to do with anything. It's actually a little amusing.
I got a little turned around coming off 71 North but I knew the general direction even though I had never been to Schottenstein, or if you prefer, The Schott. I pulled into the Holiday Inn parking garage and the attendant asked if we were going to the concert. I replied affirmatively and he requested 20 bucks. I said, "How about 10?" I forked over $10 and we rolled up the ramp. At the time, I was amused but upon reflection, I realized that parking in CAP CITY is usually free for the big events.
Anyway, we walked over to the Arena. The show had already started - The Pretenders were on the stage and most of the crowd had already headed inside. Just a few random stragglers and a couple scalpers. I briefly spoke with a guy who wanted a couple hundred for 2 tix. I figured it might be nice to survey the area a little bit. As we walked to the West entrance, this guy opened one of the arena side doors to smoke a cigarette. I looked at his girlfriend and she asked me, "Do you want in?" Could it really be this easy? Yes, it could. All four of us just walked in this side door and strolled to the top level. I love that rush you get for the first minute or so, when you know you just pulled off a 4-Banger. That was the original term used to describe 4 freebie tickets. From here on out, we'll call it 4 FO SHOW. Of course, we still had no tickets, but no one really gave a fuck. We walked out on the Upper Terrace smoking area and drank Old German and Miller Lite. I'd like to say we smuggled these beers in, but that's an overstatement, because when you use the term "smuggle", it implies an attempt at concealment. Truth be told, we could have hoisted these beers over our heads while breakdancing and nobody would have given a damn. Anyway, we celebrated the smooth entrance with a few high fives and a round of "F'in A's." As the Pretenders closed their set, we encountered Scottie and Schneid (and Buzz). I figured we might run into them. They were sitting on the side of the stage - 400 level. We hit that area for about half the show. I kept on eyeing up the side seats right next to the stage. I easily convinced Josh to head down to the front. I thought they might want to see a ticket stub, but the security and the ushers just kind of moved away from us. It was like I was Moses and we were parting the Red fuckin' sea. We walked down to the fourth row. These seats were adjacent to the $400 seats. Actually, they were better because we had all the room we wanted. It must be something about Columbus. People just don't understand that it's a ROCK concert. I think they view much like the would a grade school piano recital or Linsly Extravaganza-type shit. Then, we walked down a few more rows to the front. Front row seats for free. Once again, F'in A. As the show ended, I realized I needed a memento so I asked the security guy to snag us a couple guitar picks. F'in A. A guitar pick which says Roger Daltrey would fit nicely in the sonofstub collection.
The ride home was a more like a celebration. We listened to a few reviews of the show on the radio. I kept thinking to myself, we've got the best review to offer. I'm pretty sure, I'll head back to The Schott in April for the Eric Clapton show. Of course, a 4 FO SHOW is going to be hard to beat. Might have to come up with a new term if there are more of us or multiple cars. I'm sure we'll figure out something.
By the way, the show rocked. At the tail end of the concert, Daltrey's voice was a little cracked but it was near the end of their tour. Townsend still rocks, except when it comes to doing internet research about young boys.
Well, I was mildly concerned about making the long drive (this ain't no Pittsburgh trip) w/o tix in hand. Yet, I wasn't too worried becuase the show fell on a Monday and it was in Columbus. Columbus, or if you prefer its correct title, CAP CITY is a cool city but the people are generally lifeless. The same exact phenomena occurs in Cleveland. Maybe it was all those George Bush campaign stops that just sapped the spirit out of these towns. I can't attribute it all to W, this "uninspired vibe" has always been a trademark of major cities in Ohio. Cincy is an exception.
Anyway, we met at the Alpha. It was me, Josh, Kelly and crazy Kathy. I've got be honest, I was a little worried about the "integrity" of our crew. Kathy was armed with only a Mastercard (doesn't bode well for scoring tix in the lot) and a desire to call shotgun. Much to my chagrin, we rolled out at the designated time - 5pm. The ride up was basically uneventful. Kathy has a unique ability. She can effortlessly introduce random topics into a converstaion that have nothing to do with anything. It's actually a little amusing.
I got a little turned around coming off 71 North but I knew the general direction even though I had never been to Schottenstein, or if you prefer, The Schott. I pulled into the Holiday Inn parking garage and the attendant asked if we were going to the concert. I replied affirmatively and he requested 20 bucks. I said, "How about 10?" I forked over $10 and we rolled up the ramp. At the time, I was amused but upon reflection, I realized that parking in CAP CITY is usually free for the big events.
Anyway, we walked over to the Arena. The show had already started - The Pretenders were on the stage and most of the crowd had already headed inside. Just a few random stragglers and a couple scalpers. I briefly spoke with a guy who wanted a couple hundred for 2 tix. I figured it might be nice to survey the area a little bit. As we walked to the West entrance, this guy opened one of the arena side doors to smoke a cigarette. I looked at his girlfriend and she asked me, "Do you want in?" Could it really be this easy? Yes, it could. All four of us just walked in this side door and strolled to the top level. I love that rush you get for the first minute or so, when you know you just pulled off a 4-Banger. That was the original term used to describe 4 freebie tickets. From here on out, we'll call it 4 FO SHOW. Of course, we still had no tickets, but no one really gave a fuck. We walked out on the Upper Terrace smoking area and drank Old German and Miller Lite. I'd like to say we smuggled these beers in, but that's an overstatement, because when you use the term "smuggle", it implies an attempt at concealment. Truth be told, we could have hoisted these beers over our heads while breakdancing and nobody would have given a damn. Anyway, we celebrated the smooth entrance with a few high fives and a round of "F'in A's." As the Pretenders closed their set, we encountered Scottie and Schneid (and Buzz). I figured we might run into them. They were sitting on the side of the stage - 400 level. We hit that area for about half the show. I kept on eyeing up the side seats right next to the stage. I easily convinced Josh to head down to the front. I thought they might want to see a ticket stub, but the security and the ushers just kind of moved away from us. It was like I was Moses and we were parting the Red fuckin' sea. We walked down to the fourth row. These seats were adjacent to the $400 seats. Actually, they were better because we had all the room we wanted. It must be something about Columbus. People just don't understand that it's a ROCK concert. I think they view much like the would a grade school piano recital or Linsly Extravaganza-type shit. Then, we walked down a few more rows to the front. Front row seats for free. Once again, F'in A. As the show ended, I realized I needed a memento so I asked the security guy to snag us a couple guitar picks. F'in A. A guitar pick which says Roger Daltrey would fit nicely in the sonofstub collection.
The ride home was a more like a celebration. We listened to a few reviews of the show on the radio. I kept thinking to myself, we've got the best review to offer. I'm pretty sure, I'll head back to The Schott in April for the Eric Clapton show. Of course, a 4 FO SHOW is going to be hard to beat. Might have to come up with a new term if there are more of us or multiple cars. I'm sure we'll figure out something.
By the way, the show rocked. At the tail end of the concert, Daltrey's voice was a little cracked but it was near the end of their tour. Townsend still rocks, except when it comes to doing internet research about young boys.
Monday, December 04, 2006
TSO
Killer asked me to take a crew to Mellon Arena for a concert yesterday. It was a group of 8 from Bellaire, 2 of which I knew. When he informed me of the show time (3pm), I was a tad bewildered. Who the fuck starts a concert at 3 in the afternoon. I quickly found out the name of the "band" - Trans Siberian Orchestra. Trust me, this is not a group from Siberia.
Back in the late 1980's, I saw a band called Savatage open for Megadeth at the South Hills Theater. All in all, Savatage was a relatively crappy heavy metal band. If they were the main act, they might have been able to sell a couple hundred tickets. I guess the lead guitarist had grander ambitions in life. He came up with an idea for what might be considered one of the biggest spectacles on the arena circuit. Rather than play horrible songs like "Hall of the Mountain King," he opted for a different approach. He, and his band, would be backed by a small orchestra and they would play "metalized" versions of Christmas songs. Throw in a dazzling light show and hardcore pyrothechnic display and Voila - "Trans-Siberian Orchestra".
They would actually be playing 2 shows that day (a 3pm and a 7pm) - both were totally soldout. Let's see, average ticket price of 40 bucks. 16,000 capacity x 2 = 32,000. Congratulations - you just grossed 1.3 million. That's not even taking into account merchandise sales. And they had all kinds of clothing and trinkets. What a fucking racket! The beauty of this production was the crowd. Good Christians with their pocketbooks, of ALL ages, looking for a little holiday cheer. The show started a little late because of all the traffic with the Steelers game. No problem though, the crowd quietly shuffled in like animals boarding Noah's ark. No need for security, although I did see a girl throw up. But then I realized that she was somewhat handicapped/mildly retarded.
Anyway, the show was pretty entertaining - if you don't get out of the house that much. Way over the top. I was mildly impressed but chose to bolt near the end of the first segment. I decided to go hang out with a couple of the other limo drivers. We had a total of 4 limos go to this thing. Now came the best part of the evening. One of the drivers hates my guts. He is a hardcore fundamentalist Christian and doesn't care for my pagan views. This guy honestly believes I worship the devil. It all started a couple years ago when I made fun "The Passion of the Christ." Big mistake. Anyway, I told him what I thought of TSO - that it was basically just a big money maker for the naive little trained minions. They come out to celebrate their faith and enjoy the holiday revelry and they end up spending all their cash. Then I said, "This Savatage guy is my hero. He really knows how to take advantage of the season. I'd really like to meet him. What a great guy. CHA-CHING!!!" This driver looked at me with the look - the look of total disgust. I love it when he gives me that look. I always make sure to flash him the devil sign whenever I see him. That was probably the highlight of the day. I did manage to snag a freebie ticket from the 92.9 light rock station deejay outside the arena. Like I really would have paid to see that shit.
Back in the late 1980's, I saw a band called Savatage open for Megadeth at the South Hills Theater. All in all, Savatage was a relatively crappy heavy metal band. If they were the main act, they might have been able to sell a couple hundred tickets. I guess the lead guitarist had grander ambitions in life. He came up with an idea for what might be considered one of the biggest spectacles on the arena circuit. Rather than play horrible songs like "Hall of the Mountain King," he opted for a different approach. He, and his band, would be backed by a small orchestra and they would play "metalized" versions of Christmas songs. Throw in a dazzling light show and hardcore pyrothechnic display and Voila - "Trans-Siberian Orchestra".
They would actually be playing 2 shows that day (a 3pm and a 7pm) - both were totally soldout. Let's see, average ticket price of 40 bucks. 16,000 capacity x 2 = 32,000. Congratulations - you just grossed 1.3 million. That's not even taking into account merchandise sales. And they had all kinds of clothing and trinkets. What a fucking racket! The beauty of this production was the crowd. Good Christians with their pocketbooks, of ALL ages, looking for a little holiday cheer. The show started a little late because of all the traffic with the Steelers game. No problem though, the crowd quietly shuffled in like animals boarding Noah's ark. No need for security, although I did see a girl throw up. But then I realized that she was somewhat handicapped/mildly retarded.
Anyway, the show was pretty entertaining - if you don't get out of the house that much. Way over the top. I was mildly impressed but chose to bolt near the end of the first segment. I decided to go hang out with a couple of the other limo drivers. We had a total of 4 limos go to this thing. Now came the best part of the evening. One of the drivers hates my guts. He is a hardcore fundamentalist Christian and doesn't care for my pagan views. This guy honestly believes I worship the devil. It all started a couple years ago when I made fun "The Passion of the Christ." Big mistake. Anyway, I told him what I thought of TSO - that it was basically just a big money maker for the naive little trained minions. They come out to celebrate their faith and enjoy the holiday revelry and they end up spending all their cash. Then I said, "This Savatage guy is my hero. He really knows how to take advantage of the season. I'd really like to meet him. What a great guy. CHA-CHING!!!" This driver looked at me with the look - the look of total disgust. I love it when he gives me that look. I always make sure to flash him the devil sign whenever I see him. That was probably the highlight of the day. I did manage to snag a freebie ticket from the 92.9 light rock station deejay outside the arena. Like I really would have paid to see that shit.
Friday, November 17, 2006
last night...
...I drove this crew of 5 guys up to the Duquesne Club in downtown Pittsburgh for dinner. There were all local physicians/hospital administrators - very pleasant. As expected, we ran into horrendous traffic on 79 about 2 miles before the parkway. Usually, it's not backed up that far, but last night was the Backyard Brawl at Heinz Field. Anyway, I was maneuvering a little bit here and there and managed to shave about 15 minutes or so off the trip. Once we got to Green Tree things picked up. Anyway, just as I dumped them off, I get a call from Josh - curious if anyone is watching the game. I tell him I'm caught in the downtown Pittsburgh morass. He mentions that Gary might have an extra ticket to the game. So I give Gary a call and he confirms. The problem is that I'm trying to get to the "NO PARKING" turn around at PNC Park and the traffic is ridiculous. Then they close Mazeroski Way so I have to go all the way around Heinz Field. Anyway, I finally make it and park the limo. Surprisingly, the turn around is completely empty. Usually, this is a good spot for limos if there's a concert or non-football event at Heinz Field. Anyway, I call Gary and he tells me he'll put the ticket in a blue plastic cup in one of the planters outside Gate B. I'm a little hesitant but I figure, alright, nothing to lose. Anyway as I approach Gate B, this black guy sees me looking aorund and says "Hey brother, you need a ticket" At that exact moment, I see the upside down blue cup and repsond "No, I'm good. In fact, I think there's a club ticket underneath this blue cup." I lift up the cup and lo and behold, there it is. I felt like that kid Charlie in the Willy Wonka movie. This other couple was killing their drinks and saw the brief episode unfold. They had this look of dismay and all the black dude could mutter was, "Ahhh, Shit, man." NICE. Anyway, I bolted up the ramp to the seat. Fantastic seats - 2nd level endzone club seating. This area was newly built and I'd never been back there. They probably decided to build it after the Superbowl win last year. Anyway, I hung out with G Max and Pita for the first half and then decided to make a move back to the city. Probably could have stayed well into the third quarter but I didn't want to keep my crew waiting in case they decided to leave early.
So I came back and used the restaurant in the Duquesne Club. This was a truly a bad-ass building. I'd heard of it but never knew where it was. Strictly a coat and tie establishment. A VERY private club. I was slightly intimidated but managed to ask where the restrooms where. Even the bums are intimidated. They won't even walk on that side of Liberty Ave. We cruised home in easily under an hour and I wrapped things up at the 19th Ho and then hit the Alpha for one last drink. The Ho was mediocre. They had this acoustic guitarist named Tim Ullom playing that night. I'd never heard of him but the bartender said he plays there quite a bit. The Alpha was pretty much empty by the time I arrived.
Then, I was hungry with limited options. I went through the Hardees drive thru. The lights were ON, but nobody was taking orders. Here's a novel idea - if nobody is working, turn the lights off. I settled for McDonalds and called it a night.
Great game - WVU won and covered. I love it when the Mountaineers play at Heinz Field. You always hear that Panther "RRoooaaarrrr" and then they lose.
So I came back and used the restaurant in the Duquesne Club. This was a truly a bad-ass building. I'd heard of it but never knew where it was. Strictly a coat and tie establishment. A VERY private club. I was slightly intimidated but managed to ask where the restrooms where. Even the bums are intimidated. They won't even walk on that side of Liberty Ave. We cruised home in easily under an hour and I wrapped things up at the 19th Ho and then hit the Alpha for one last drink. The Ho was mediocre. They had this acoustic guitarist named Tim Ullom playing that night. I'd never heard of him but the bartender said he plays there quite a bit. The Alpha was pretty much empty by the time I arrived.
Then, I was hungry with limited options. I went through the Hardees drive thru. The lights were ON, but nobody was taking orders. Here's a novel idea - if nobody is working, turn the lights off. I settled for McDonalds and called it a night.
Great game - WVU won and covered. I love it when the Mountaineers play at Heinz Field. You always hear that Panther "RRoooaaarrrr" and then they lose.
Friday, November 10, 2006
2 for 1 apps.
Alright, it's like I never left.
Seeing that we go to the Alpha about 5 nights a week, I thought it might be reassuring to explore 2 for 1 appetizer night. Actually, Smithers ran out of ideas, so this special runs on concurrent nights (Wed. and Thurs.). It certainly beats hot dog night though. Here's a suggestion. Leave hot dog night to the Wakim's. Let them savor their luke warm chili dogs while commiserating over the Mollahan victory.
Back to the Alpha. Many people blame the oil companies for the high price of gasoline. Allow me to clarify. Exxon Mobil, British Petroleum and my personal favorite, Chevron Texaco do NOT control the price of gasoline. Here are the main contributing factors -
1) the price of crude
2) increased demand from China and India
3) refinery capacity
4) speculation in the futures market
5) to a minor extent - political instabilty in the Middle East
6) and most important, the purchase of Greek wings at the Alpha
Why is it necessary to lay 3 cups of oil on a dinner plate when they serve up their Greek wings? What kind of foundation is this? Why does the amount of oil the Alpha "exports" make Willie Nelson cringe? Why? I've never seen so much oil used since a bad episode of 7 Lives Exposed. I've got other wing related issues, as well. The bourbon wings are ok but the sauce gets a little redundant after the second or third wing. Much to the dismay of Danno and Uncle Ben, Old Bay is not an option. It's not even listed on the menu. It's basically akin to taking a heaping tablespoon of garlic powder and dusting a plate of wings and then proclaiming, "Allah Akbar, Garlic Wings, ye infidel!"
Next up is that Bruschetta thing. Here comes a prodigous half loaf of french bread (which takes up the entire table) served on a wooden slab. That wooden slab thing can also be used to spank Paigey. If anyone wants to steal me one of these wooden boards, I'd be forever grateful and I will use it to administer repeated "Paigey spankings." The bruschetta itself, I don't particularly care for.
Onto calamari - I'm not quite sure the city of Wheeling is ready for calamari. I know for a fact that the surrounding county is definitely not ready. One girl tried to order it, but incorrectly pronounced it "calamity." I think that pretty much sums it up.
The stuffed mushroom caps are tasty, but once again, prepare to embark on another quest for oil. Why stage a coup d'etat on the oil-rich government of Equatorial Guinea when a lifetime supply of oil is conveniently located in Woodsdale?
How about the spinach-artichoke dip? This stuff is tasty but I think the main ingredient is mayonnaise, certainly not spinach. If you are a devout Southern Baptist seeking a cholestoral laden weight gain adventure, this is the dish for you!
OK. What about that giant marinated portabella mushroom with feta and red peppers? This is my second favorite. My overall favorite are the citrus, and to a lesser extent, the tortilla shrimp. This is the right decision. 2 shrimp apps for the price of one might defy conventional wisdom, but rest assured, this is the best option.
I forgot - what about the cheese fries? I'm done with french fries. You know who cured me of that addiction. How about a baked potato instead. Right on, sister. And an advance happy birthday wish. I'm pretty sure you finally turned 26.
See, it's like I never left.
Seeing that we go to the Alpha about 5 nights a week, I thought it might be reassuring to explore 2 for 1 appetizer night. Actually, Smithers ran out of ideas, so this special runs on concurrent nights (Wed. and Thurs.). It certainly beats hot dog night though. Here's a suggestion. Leave hot dog night to the Wakim's. Let them savor their luke warm chili dogs while commiserating over the Mollahan victory.
Back to the Alpha. Many people blame the oil companies for the high price of gasoline. Allow me to clarify. Exxon Mobil, British Petroleum and my personal favorite, Chevron Texaco do NOT control the price of gasoline. Here are the main contributing factors -
1) the price of crude
2) increased demand from China and India
3) refinery capacity
4) speculation in the futures market
5) to a minor extent - political instabilty in the Middle East
6) and most important, the purchase of Greek wings at the Alpha
Why is it necessary to lay 3 cups of oil on a dinner plate when they serve up their Greek wings? What kind of foundation is this? Why does the amount of oil the Alpha "exports" make Willie Nelson cringe? Why? I've never seen so much oil used since a bad episode of 7 Lives Exposed. I've got other wing related issues, as well. The bourbon wings are ok but the sauce gets a little redundant after the second or third wing. Much to the dismay of Danno and Uncle Ben, Old Bay is not an option. It's not even listed on the menu. It's basically akin to taking a heaping tablespoon of garlic powder and dusting a plate of wings and then proclaiming, "Allah Akbar, Garlic Wings, ye infidel!"
Next up is that Bruschetta thing. Here comes a prodigous half loaf of french bread (which takes up the entire table) served on a wooden slab. That wooden slab thing can also be used to spank Paigey. If anyone wants to steal me one of these wooden boards, I'd be forever grateful and I will use it to administer repeated "Paigey spankings." The bruschetta itself, I don't particularly care for.
Onto calamari - I'm not quite sure the city of Wheeling is ready for calamari. I know for a fact that the surrounding county is definitely not ready. One girl tried to order it, but incorrectly pronounced it "calamity." I think that pretty much sums it up.
The stuffed mushroom caps are tasty, but once again, prepare to embark on another quest for oil. Why stage a coup d'etat on the oil-rich government of Equatorial Guinea when a lifetime supply of oil is conveniently located in Woodsdale?
How about the spinach-artichoke dip? This stuff is tasty but I think the main ingredient is mayonnaise, certainly not spinach. If you are a devout Southern Baptist seeking a cholestoral laden weight gain adventure, this is the dish for you!
OK. What about that giant marinated portabella mushroom with feta and red peppers? This is my second favorite. My overall favorite are the citrus, and to a lesser extent, the tortilla shrimp. This is the right decision. 2 shrimp apps for the price of one might defy conventional wisdom, but rest assured, this is the best option.
I forgot - what about the cheese fries? I'm done with french fries. You know who cured me of that addiction. How about a baked potato instead. Right on, sister. And an advance happy birthday wish. I'm pretty sure you finally turned 26.
See, it's like I never left.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
finally
Finally... a new post in the restaurant review column. How about getting back to the basics with some helpful suggestions.
Salad dressings - MAKE YOUR OWN. Don't buy the overly processed stuff like Kraft or Seven Seas. Not only is it filled with preservatives, it simply doesn't taste that great. A better option is to make your own with decent olive oil. And try rice wine vinegar instead of red wine vinegar. There is a lone exception - that's when it comes to purchasing ranch. Trying to make your own would be downright insane. Stick with Hidden Valley. For some reason they seem to get it.
Grilling while tailgating - For god sake, don't go to all the trouble to grill out and opt for hot dogs. Why go to all the trouble and expense of grilling out and settle for hot dogs? How about chicken or shrimp and possibly some vegetables. Hot dogs should always be the last possible choice when everything else has failed, and you have failed as a human being. Maybe if you have children under the age of 8, this is barely acceptable.
Cheezits - Go for the reduced fat kind. They taste better than the regular because they have a light airy quality.
Cranberry and Ruby Red grapefruit juice - Try the Sam's club or Wal-mart brand. Ocean Spray is way too concentrated and it's more expensive.
Coke or Pepsi - For Christ sake, COKE. Pepsi sucks and it tastes like syrup. They are the ultimate bandwagon company. They always seem to get the lamest superstars for their commercials. Never financially support Pepsi Cola or any of their subsidiary companies like KFC, Burger King and Taco Bell.
Water - Avoid Dasani at all costs. It tastes like they've added some kind of iron chemical. Truly disgusting.
I'll add more to this post in the future.
Salad dressings - MAKE YOUR OWN. Don't buy the overly processed stuff like Kraft or Seven Seas. Not only is it filled with preservatives, it simply doesn't taste that great. A better option is to make your own with decent olive oil. And try rice wine vinegar instead of red wine vinegar. There is a lone exception - that's when it comes to purchasing ranch. Trying to make your own would be downright insane. Stick with Hidden Valley. For some reason they seem to get it.
Grilling while tailgating - For god sake, don't go to all the trouble to grill out and opt for hot dogs. Why go to all the trouble and expense of grilling out and settle for hot dogs? How about chicken or shrimp and possibly some vegetables. Hot dogs should always be the last possible choice when everything else has failed, and you have failed as a human being. Maybe if you have children under the age of 8, this is barely acceptable.
Cheezits - Go for the reduced fat kind. They taste better than the regular because they have a light airy quality.
Cranberry and Ruby Red grapefruit juice - Try the Sam's club or Wal-mart brand. Ocean Spray is way too concentrated and it's more expensive.
Coke or Pepsi - For Christ sake, COKE. Pepsi sucks and it tastes like syrup. They are the ultimate bandwagon company. They always seem to get the lamest superstars for their commercials. Never financially support Pepsi Cola or any of their subsidiary companies like KFC, Burger King and Taco Bell.
Water - Avoid Dasani at all costs. It tastes like they've added some kind of iron chemical. Truly disgusting.
I'll add more to this post in the future.
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