Day 53: Recap of the PBR thing, and previewing the weekend

Last night's PBR Band of the Year deal at the Otherside renewed my faith in mankind, and then shot it all to hell.

First off, as frequent readers know, I have a special place in my Irish heart for Alt-country/indie-folk act the Good Neighbor Policy, but last night I also found room to add in a few other local bands that I had foolishly not shown love to previously.

GNP started off the night, and had a good set, though the place hadn't filled up as much as it would later in the night so only about 40 people got to see them go all out (though I wished they'd ended the night with "Cruel World" as per usual *sigh*).

Next up came Black Velvet Elvises with their own unique brand of rock. I've seen these kids before and wasn't exactly floored, but last night I really enjoyed their set (even though they failed to play their cover of "Last Caress" by the Misfits). They really showed up and got the walls shaking. Olivia, their singer, did her very best Deborah Harry impression and made the entire set worth watching. Much fun.

Frequent Duganz at 23 comment-maker Chris LaTray (and fellow blogger) next took the stage with his band Lazerwolfs. I must admit that I'm not a huge metal fan. I kind of find it to be mostly noise with very little musicality. But with its Hüsker Dü meets Motörhead kind of sound Lazerwolfs may make me a believer – especially with Chris introducing a song as follows:

"All right. This next one's called 'The Deed**.' It's a song about...um...fucking."

Holla. I laughed at that intro a lot, as did my buddy John, who was equally swayed to, if not entirely liking metal, at least liking Lazerwolfs. Rock on.*

After Lazerwolfs exited the stage things turned bad, I mean really bad. Walking Corpse Syndrome "played," and somewhere inside I lost my will to breath, think, or exist. I had never seen this band before since I have an aversion to any band with a convoluted name referencing zombies. I'd describe this WCS' sound as noise, but the band Crass is noise and doesn't suck as much as this band. That's right. I said Crass, Crass for goddsake, doesn't suck as much as WCS. The poster for the PBR gig listed them as "Industrial/metal," but that doesn't really do it justice. It should have said "bad/worse." I should have seen the writing on the wall when they brought out two drum kits (groan), but I just thought they were being creative...

Okay, I'm honestly being a dick on this one. If I were actually into their style of music I probably would have been down with them more than a stay-at-home-mom during an Oprah marathon. But as it is I just felt like I was watching Hot Topic vomit out a band. However, one cool addition they brought to the night was a group of "zombie dancers." It was shameless gimmicky crap I normally hate, but given the rest of what was going on with this band I'll say it came off as the least "hey, we're a really cool band!!!!LOL!1!" bit of their whole shtick.

Reverend Slanky played after, and as always got people moving and shaking, which is a lot better than having them just stand against the wall looking. Biggest surprise in the set: a cover of Prince's "Musicology." After this ended I went home because John was leaving, and Alisia wanted to head out as well, plus I was tired. So I missed performances from The Hermans, iNHUMANS and Blessidoom, and the announcement that Slanky won the whole competition.

Oh well. It was a good night out.

I'm getting ready to do some serious writing today, and maybe play some guitar (along with more applications and job searching). For the weekend I'm not planning on much outside of a Maulers game tonight, and some movie watching on the weekend...which brings me to this point...

The other day I was watching TV at John, Sean, and Bill's when I caught a new commercial from Showcase Video that had some slightly veiled digs at Netflix. It shows a guy going to his mailbox a few times, becoming frustrated and then going to Showcase for whatever generic, unnamed film he wants to see. The guy then says, "This is a lot better than waiting on my mailbox!"

LOLOLOLOL!...wait...It's a terrible commercial.

Admittedly at some level I feel bad about no longer frequenting local movie shops for my viewing needs, but Netflix is really nice. I don't ever worry about late fees, or something being out of stock. The only downside is the wait to get movies. I hate that, but the films do eventually come so I can't complain too much.

But after watching the commercial I have decided that when I want a movie NOW, and cannot wait two days to watch one, I will go down to Showcase or Crystal to grab hold of something. Maybe The Missoula Riots, something tells me that'll be a good primer for the summer...

Take care kids, I'll see you soon.

*Update: After posting this I headed over to 4&20 where Rebecca said the same thing. Great minds think alike I guess. Either that or Lazerwolfs actually did kick ass.
**Second Update: Originally I had this as "Thirteen," but Chris corrected me, and so I've changed it.

Days 39, 40, and 41: The Helena Weekend

The Helena trip extended itself from just Friday, to the whole weekend. Hilarity ensued

Friday night I missed the Good Neighbor Policy to scope out John’s Dad’s band Running on Empty, a Bozeman-based cover band. They played in the H-town Civic Center, which has to be one of the oddest buildings I’ve ever been in. Huge stage, chandeliers, and tons of older folk, but good times nonetheless.

Bill, Sean, John and I acted out the role of roadies, though not until after the guys finished up at about 1 a.m. Between 9 and that time the four of us had some drinks, some dances with the groupies traveling with the band (their “wives” we were told), and watched the funniest thing in the world: Open Shirt Man (OSM).

OSM came to us with a sad tale. Apparently after 22 years of marriage he learned that his wife had had a boyfriend of 25 years. Totally lame, but I doubt its authenticity. The only obviously factual aspect of OSM came from his willingness to be the King Tool of the night by grabbing at the asses of the groupies, which their husbands could spy from their spot up on the stage.

The best way to describe OSM is a mixture of Colin Farrell and John Goodman – a big sack of hair and bad flopped into a white frat boy shirt with a crucifix on a chain. John, however, thinks the guy was going for a Tim McGraw look (He missed it). I cannot describe what a huge tool this guy was. The kind of guy I sometimes find myself fearful of becoming when I’m awake late at night.

I don’t think I’ll ever be afraid of it again as I could wake up every day, suck a little more, and never equal the terribleness of OSM.

Though I missed hitting the Badlander and getting some much needed time with GNP and others, I at least got to see this guy…well, John’s Dad described it best on Saturday morning while sitting in the hot tub:

“I saw him from the stage and I was just amazed.”

Exactly. Truly amazing man. He had the rhythm of a white guy with the stolen moves of a Kris Kross video. It was like watching that footage of nuclear tests…just a big mushroom cloud and an expanding wave of bad. It’s how I imagine hell, but with less Christian overtones.

Whenever OSM asked for the hand of one of the groupies the ladies were too nice to turn him down, mostly because I think they bought his sob story. As he’d lead them to the dance floor, his sweaty body rippling with joy, they’d glance back and give a look at the group like, “HELP!” One of the groupies, tired of my guffaws at her pain hauled off and slapped me for my insolence, but it was a nice slap.

Though we grabbed a few pictures of OSM, they can’t do the man justice. His badness permeated every bit of his existence, and while a picture tells a thousand words, you’d need at least a book to tell his tale.

On the ride home to John’s cabin on Canyon Ferry he and I had a long talk about OSM, about aging and having everything in your life change. We noted that if OSM’s story was true, and that he had lost his wife after 22 years, that sucks and we could only pity him. For OSM life used to be couples and work, now it’s being that single guy who needs to crate his own good time or fall to the ravages of loathing. Sad. Depressing. We vowed never to turn out like him, and like I said earlier, I think it’s near impossible to actual become as lame as OSM.

Running on Empty played a pretty good set of covers that got the people moving and grooving to the hits of the sixties, and it raised a lot of money for a local charity. So in the end the night was worth it even though I missed GNP (Alisia took some pictures and sent me a few texts reminding me of how badass the band is…she’s kind of mean like that). Laughs and tunes will always be worth the ride.

Plus I got free chicken Parmesan courtesy of John’s Dad…who’s name is John also.

Saturday was different altogether….

Instead of going out we all just hung around John’s cabin hot tubbing and drinking beer, especially Bill. Some of his better (worse?) moments from the night:

• After saying he dressed in drag in high school: “I looked like a fat girl, but I could totally pull it off.”

• “I’m-in not dern…I’m fine.”

• “Why do I want to be in my room?” I explain he should pass out. “Will do.”

• Standing over the toilet: “I’ve vomited.”

• A different time standing over the toilet, this time with his arms whole of vomit covered toilet paper: “The lid was closed…I didn’t notice it at first.”

• “How did I get from the hot tub to me bed?” I explained that I just pointed him in the direction and he went. See earlier comments.

Some of his friends who live in Helena came up to enjoy the cabin as well, though honestly we didn’t talk a whole bunch even though we were sitting around a lot. At least it didn’t feel like a long time talking. Maybe it was. As far as Bill’s huge amount of booze, I blame myself. I encouraged him to drink a six-pack in a hot tub and didn’t stop him from drinking an awful lot of bourbon. But he seemed in good spirits this morning.

For all the time I spent in the hot tub this weekend, maybe about 6 hours total, my shoulder hurt a whole damn bunch. And I’m tired from the whole trip since we didn’t sleep nearly enough. This would bother me if it weren’t for the whole unemployed thing.

Today Sean, John, Bill and I all had brunch at our friend Sarah’s house. She made a huge amount of food and we ate way too much of it, but she and her husband seemed happy to have the company. I guess Helena isn’t a huge amount of fun when you’re young, which is why four dirty idiots grubbing at your pad seems like a treat.

But it was fun and we had some laughs. Then it was just a long ride back to Zootown (Holla), and my bed, which is where I am headed until a little later tonight when last night’s movie watching plans can actually happen. Should be fun. I’ll see you tomorrow kids.

Day 38: Buses and Misc.

Top reasons I love the bus:

1. Hate driving
2. Save on gas money
3. I walk more

But that's not what I'm really blogging about tonight, I just wanted to talk about how much I like the bus, just briefly.

First day without a job went off without much fanfare. The weirdest part had to do with sitting around without anyone to hang out with. When everyone else has work or school things get boring. So I went to campus today and collected my design clips from my days at the Kaimin and looked for a few jobs. Sort of boring day.

Oh, and I made my weekend plans, though as I said earlier, these "weekend" things don't matter since I lack employment. But the reason I bring it up is that I won't be blogging on Friday because I'm roadying for John's father's band up in Helena. This isn't a paying gig, but we do get to hang out and listen to some pretty good blues music (for white guys). Then Saturday I think I'm staying in to watch a movie.

A note about Friday: when I planned on the roady gig I didn't know that Good Neighbor Policy was playing at the Badlander. So, that sucks that I'm missing it, but if you read this you should go, and cheer twice as hard for me.

I'm sorry this post is all rambling. I stayed up way to late last night and I'm not really thinking very coherently.

Day 18: The big news

This is my big news post... I sent the following out to some people yesterday morning. First thing before you read, however, I would like to apologize to jhwygirl from 4&20 who promoted this blog and also reads my articles:

Friends, colleagues, former-colleagues and
well-wishers:

After a good long think about my life, and my future, I must sadly announce my departure from the Missoula Independent. It's been a damn fine time, but, to speak as a poetic barfly, the lights have come up and it’s time to wander home. So after issue 8 (Feb. 21) this guy's unemployed.

I know, I know. This sounds like a terrible idea, but after a lot of thinking I've decided just say to hell with it and follow the advice of my mentor and friend Henriette Lowisch: “You’ve got something you want to do just do it and don’t think about what happens next… You’re young. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

So I’m off to do what I want, hopefully without making too many mistakes. (Hint: I’m not becoming a meth dealer...yet) Don’t worry kids – you haven’t heard the last of me. I promise.

As I said, don't worry. I'm not going to quit writing, and you'll see my stuff somewhere else (and here of course) soon enough.

So, yeah...that's my news. See you Sunday.

***

Tonight I caught Good Neighbor Policy and Thomas Pendarvis gave me some really bad news. Apparently the band might be moving. And that sucks. GNP is one of the best bands in town so I'd like to see them stay a "Missoula band." They're playing the PBR Battle of the bands and would like everyone's support. Being a local music-file, I'd highly recommend the group, and I think everyone should go give them some love because they're frickin' fantastic. Seriously. Especially Bethany (cello) who a few friends of mine have a total music crush on. Anyway. they played a great set at the Badlander and I hope everyone can show them some love in the coming months to keep them here.