Arrived at the gig last night under the blaring lights of Middling City U's football stadium (too bad it does not rhyme with tedium but for the sake of poesie let us say that it sure fuckin' does) to hear the screeching intro by a local radio personality for American Idol John Stevens - or is that John Stephens. Let us say, again, for sake of poesie and argument, that Yours Truly does in fact not only know the correct spelling but might be able to recognize this fledgling celeb visually. So he, the American Idol of Middling Cityesque heritage, begins the theme song for the United States of America and the preamble to every sporting event in this fair land. Upon singing the phrase Rockets red glare four fizzylicious pyros shot up from the ground behind the singer. A great visual to be sure. But auditorially not such a good idea. There were more pyros, drowning out completely the song until its very end.
Yours Truly, intrepid and ever-quipping journalista, was up in the boxes, prowling. Found President John Simpson, entourage, three Tulane evacuees, a crock pot full of burbling orange something, salty snacks, and oso much more. Shot prez and the trio of students in a set-up GettingToKnowYou moment. Noted aloud that one of the students was outfitted with some academic reading should the sporty going get boring. Kennedy and I read the sport section in part aloud and lo, behold, the Middling City U Bulls still kind of suck a lot. They remain #115 out of 115 teams and, as I discussed with Laura this AM over brunch at her joint, if there were a way they could perform themselves off of that list we are fairly certain they could - or would.
On a less sporty note.
I was approached by a femme I know to join a group of artsy types who want to start an outdoorsy kind of club of sorts. I said sure, as long as it included sharpshooting as I freakin' rock at that, and maybe some snowshoeing. So there's a listserv sort of to and fro of messages and this list encircles some associated with the Greg Sterlace show, upon which I was married by ever-tanned attorney Ross Runfola to Bad Ronald - amongst other adventures. So I send out a reply to the query if RR would participate in this group that I imagined he is not much of an outdoorsman despite his George Hamilton tone. To this I got a très zanyrific reply allegedly penned by YT, basically professing some sort of undying love for RR. I would cut and paste but You get the idea. I group-replied that I will be pressing charges for sure unless there is a full retraction.
Oh, aren't these litigational times.
Just got another gig in Roch, perhaps one in Boston next mo.

Moving and grooving love.