Gal's Panic on You Tube

As an addition to last night's post. there are currently four video's on you tube from GP's show at Emo's. Just search "Gals Panic Emo's". Two cuts of the first song "The Pit" and one each (with not so great audio) of "Skoliosis Skank" and "Mummy Cops"

The "Skank" vid hives you a shot of stupid Ireland shirt boy on stage. My arm is visible throughout "Mummy Cops"

Tag.... Tag you're it!

Well, over the weekend, the wife and I went down to Austin to catch a showat Emo's. One of my favorite "local" bands from the 90's was having a reunion gig... Gal's Panic! So, as my birthday present, we drove down for the show and stayed overnight. Here is the synopsis of the events of the trip:
Saturday afternoon, loaded up the VW and left the pups with the sitter
Arrived at the hotel around 4:30. Started noticing way too many motorcycles around
Checked-in. Went to room. Sat around trying to decide what to do next.
Left the hotel to go get dinner. The Dog & Duck pub. It's one of my favorites. Does a swell job of looking and feeling like a real pub AND serves food. Fish and chips are damn tasty. Good beer selection too. Had a Belhaven Scottish (tap) and a Blue Moon Belgian White. MMMMMMM!!!! Saw Arsenal fan. Found out that the Dog & Duck might be no more in about six months cuz some stupid people want to build condos. BOOOO condos!
Drove to Book People, the largest bookstore in Texas. It's nice. Lots of books. Found a book about John Lydon and decided to buy it.
Went back to the hotel. Dropped stuff off.
At this point, realized that the bikers were all in town for some rally/convention/gathering. It was a ROT (Republic of Texas) Biker Rally. Strongly recommend avoiding locations where this is. Motorcycles everywhere. This means there were numerous overweight, sleeveless, hairy people (and the women who love them) all over town.
Headed back out. Discovered there was some stupid parade that was blocking our path to the club. Had to take detour and saw many, many bikers.
FINALLY found parking spot. Walked to club while keeping a wary eye open for ne-er do wells.
Got to club. Checked name off will-call. Nobody there yet. Decided to wander outside.
Stopped at Bull McCabe's Irish Pub. Had a Guinness. It wasn't bad. Not too cold and no stupid shamrock drawn into the foam. Very pubby feeling inside. Mocked silly youth wearing the tweed snap hat, green Ireland t-shirt, and chain bound wallet... you know... every pub has one.
Headed toward 6th street. Saw what might've been a drug deal... or just four people who were crazy
6th street was blocked off to traffic and was covered with loud motorcycles of all kinds. Street and sidewalks were packed. Very Bourbon street feeling. Walked up to the Driskill Hotel. Checked for ghosts. Picked up loose change on a couch and rested for a few minutes.
Walked back down 6th street. Saw the beginnings of what might have been a domestic violence incident. Saw small children amonst the crowd. Saw bike's getting towed. Saw all manner of inappropriate and nauseating clothing on overweight, hairy bikers (men & women)
Arrived back at the club. Went inside. The first band was playing. Got a Blue Moon and stood at the back and listened.
Band: The Catfish Hunters. Jerm Pollet band #1 for the evening. A slower, bluesy, piano lounge, country thing. Enjoyed it. Jerm played piano and made ridiculous comments in between songs.
Browsed the merchadise booth
Moved to the other side of the bar where there was a good view and a stool.
Watched Jerm walk away in a sport coat and shirt and return momentarily in a t-shirt and pink pants.
Talked to Jerm at the merchadise booth. Told him I drove all the way from Ft. Worth and that he and Lance had better not f*** it up! He assured me they wouldn't. Bought four CD's - The "Footloose" audio commentary by The Sinus Show, the afore mentioned Catfish Hunters debut CD, The Total Foxes, and Missile Command. Paid with check. Jerm gave discount for buying in bulk. (Thanks Jerm!)
More Blue Moon
Next act: The Tricker Treats. This was a one-man act. Dan Potthast (of MU330 fame) did some entertaining songs. KKK adopts a highway song was very funny. He wore black leather pants. Could not have been comfortable. Will have to buy CDs from his website. Perhaps this shameless plug will help.
More Blue Moon. Watched silly young drunk girls hit on Dan at the merchandise booth.
Next act: The Total Foxes. Jerm Pollet band #2. They were fun. Jerm is always amusing. Here he gets to play guitar and sing. Have had one of their songs (Retirement Community) on the iPod for a year or so. Jerm makes unfavorable comment about bikers. We laugh and nod in agreement.
Watched as the crowd got bigger. Saw stupid Ireland shirt boy from McCabe's on the other side of the bar. Watched people. Saw guy with really bad haircut. Briefly saw Lance Fever through the crowd.
Watched Jerm disappear and re-emerge wearing a leather suit, feather boa, and oversized sunglasses. Must have been more uncomfortable that Mr. Potthast's leather pants.
One more Blue Moon.
Moved to the side of the club, out of the way of traffic.
Finally: Gal's Panic.
Started with "Pit", then my favorite, "Ketchup". Quickly burned off buzz by yelling and waving arms in air.
Show continues. Lance's parents are pointed out. I move up a little bit to test my mutant power. Back in the day, we always joked that I could start at the back of the club and before the last song, I would be front and center.
Start feeding off the crowd energy. Yelling/singing more. Bouncing a bit more.
"Skoliosis Skank" The pit starts up. I move in. Within a couple of songs, I'm dead center against the stage.
The rest of the show is awesome. Except for the smoke machines. Lance gets really sweaty and takes off his shirt.
During the show, stupid Ireland shirt boy keeps climbing on the stage and trying to help Lance remember the lyrics. Or perhaps he was just showboating. Or maybe he was just drunk. At any rate, he becomes highly annoying with his repeated visits to the stage. Jerm and Lance put up with a lot.
Main set ends. Band pretends to be done. We all know better. There were no Mummy Cops and the theme song hadn't been played yet. Girl to my right, who had been helping me yell the opening to Mummy Cops, shakes my hand and yells something in my ear that I do not understand.
Encore
Finally... Lance taps the microphone and we get the awesome words "You guys look tough... you guys look mean... but you don't scare me." Look out... it's the Mummy Cops!
Gal's Panic is played. High Fives to the front row. Jerm throws water (or spits, I can't remember now) at us. Bouncer finally comes to retrieve stupid Ireland shirt kid.
Show winds down... I move to the back where my wife has been standing. I stay there for the final song "We've only just begun"
I go say "Hi" to Lance. See Jerm and tell him they didn't suck. Retrieve setlist from the Total Foxes (Jerm wrote it on a paper plate).
Get pen from wife. Return to get Lance to sign it. Lance Fever by the way is also known as Lance Myers and he does computer animation. He worked as a lead animator on "A Scanner Darkly"
Took plate over to merchandise booth. Got Dan to sign it and leave his website
Got Jerm to sign plate. Try not to look at Jerm's butt crack which is now visible from his unzipped leather suit.
Realize I am soaked in sweat. Wife won't hug me. I don't blame her. Need a shower. Suddenly feel somewhat stupid for being a 32-year-old in a mosh pit.
We leave.
See kid puking on street corner. He is smiling.
Retrieve car
Drive back to hotel
Shower (YAY!)
get ready for bed
try to go to sleep to the peaceful sounds of jerky bikers in the parking lot revving their bikes at 3 AM
Wake up. Get dressed. Pack. Leave hotel.
Go to Chez Zee for brunch. Croissant with strawberry butter, dutch chocolate milk, gingerbread pancakes, and country potatoes. Stuffed face. Couldn't finish.
Get on the road. Bypass exciting new toll road. Try and avoid jerky bikers who can't follow traffic rules.
Stop for gas outside of Waco. See chihuahua wearing a San Antonio spurs cap.
Arrive home to happy pups!

Goin' South

Have you seen the commercial for the super duper compilation of "Southern Rock" classics[Goin' South Platinum Collection]? It's great, if you like that sort of thing. 30 of the "biggest Southern Rock classics of all time" or so the ad says.
I watch the ad and the list of songs scrolls up the screen. It looks something like this:
01 Sweet Home Alabama Lynyrd Skynyrd
02 Heard It In A Love Song Marshall Tucker Band
03 Rocky Mountain Way Joe Walsh
04 The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down The Band
05 Wild-Eyed Southern Boys .38 Special
06 Jim Dandy Black Oak Arkansas
07 Fooled Around And Fell In Love Elvin Bishop
08 Bad To The Bone George Thorogood & The Destroyers
09 Long Time Gone Dickey Betts
10 Boom Boom (Out Go The Lights) Pat Travers
11 Coming Home Johnny Van Zant Band
12 Can't You See Marshall Tucker Band
13 Keep On Smilin' Wet Willie
14 Radar Love Golden Earring
15 Walk Away James Gang
16 Free Bird Lynyrd Skynyrd
Wait a minute.... back that up...
14 Radar Love Golden Earring
What the...?!!?! Golden Earring!??!!? They're from the Netherlands, which, last time I checked, WAS NOT a part of the Southern United States. I'd really like to know how the heck they ended up on this compilation.
I don't know if this is just another example of stupid Americans or wishful thinking.

Dallas Stars suck

You will never convince me that getting rid of Ken Hitchcock was a good idea. They fired him because they didn't like his demanding nature and all the pansy arsed players felt like he was too tough.
Well, yet again, the Stars get bounced from the playoffs in the first round. Why? Pretty much cuz they are a bunch of pansy arsed players. I'm sure coach Tippett is very concerned about their feelings and making sure they're happy and have plenty of pretty flowers in their lockers after every game they lose. But that don't win Stanley Cups.
Meanwhile, why was dumbass extrordinaire Tom Hicks watching a meaningless game at Whatever The Feck They Call The Ballpark In Arlington (The Rangers lost to the crummy Mariners, by the way) when his hockey team was playing a Game 7 playoff match in Vancouver? Can he not afford airfare after buying another team that I'm sure he'll run into the ground (Liverpool Football Club)?
*Note to Ron Washington: You seem like a nice guy, but so far, I'm not convinced you were a good choice.

Voting

If there is one argument that really hacks me off, it's when I hear somebody use the tired old line about "If you don't vote, you can't complain."
That's garbage and I'll tell you why. There are two key reasons.
First off, if you pay taxes, you damn sure have every right to complain whether you voted or not. If I'm giving my hard earned money to the government (and not of my own free will, I might add), I should definitely be able to gripe about how it's being used. This is a lot like fathers paying child support and not being allowed to have a say in how the children are being raised. Granted, a lot of fathers DON'T have that ability (and others really shouldn't), but that is beside the point. The point is that if your money goes to supporting something, that gives you the ability to complain if you don't like the way the organization is run (unless you sign something that says you can give money, but beyond that, shut the hell up).
Second, more often than not, our "choices" for which we may cast our "important and precious" vote are worthless. I mean both (or sometimes, all three, but rarely more than that) are just walking dung heaps in suits wrapped in a flag looking for a photo op with a noted civil rights activist (preferably a minority) and/or Jesus. Neither candidate is actually smart enough or honorable enough to actually hold the office for which they are campaigning, but that's all we get to choose. So what if you can't stand any of them? Do you vote for the one you despise the least? How is that helping? All you're doing is giving our esteemed 2-party system (remember, that's one party away from true non-democracy.... mmmmmm... mono-partisan! It's not just for fascists anymore!) the green light to continue to put jackasses in office.
Now some of you mind-numbing political zombies are saying, "Well, why don't you just write in somebody?" Well, that's what I do, now, at least on the ballots where that's an option. They don't give you that option in every contest.
(Aside: There is an organization called NOTA. They are a group that would like to put "None of the Above" on all ballots and then if NOTA got the majority, all candidates would essentially be rejected. New candidates would then be selected and it would start all over again until the idiots actually produced candidates that weren't as worthless as a weatherman in Texas.)
When I don't vote, it's not because I'm lazy. Quite the contrary. I don't vote because quite simply, the thought of actually making it appear that I support one of these fools makes my stomach churn. I don't vote because the politicos are too stupid and lazy to present candidates that would actually be good.
Typically, none of the candidates really represents my ideals and philosophies. I don't want abortion banned, I don't want guns banned, lighten up on alcohol, cigarrettes, and marijuana, the death penalty is a good thing, and Jesus' philosophy was more akin to socialism (so leave him out of this). So what, I'm supposed to vote for somebody that has publically stated that they support doing things I don't agree with?
So, if you want me to vote, give me something to vote FOR. Voting for somebody simply to vote against somebody else is a poor reason to continue the cycle.
And don't tell me I can't complain.

Snow?

Okay, today's weather was weird, even for Texas. It's April and we had snow flurries.
That's Rickdiculous. Or Ludacris. Whichever exaggeration you prefer.
At any rate, I find it ironic that we can never get snow around Christmas but we can have snow at Easter. I don't know if this is global warming or El Nino or aliens, but I wish they'd knock it the heck off.
In other news, the Fabulous Tom "I don't know crap about running North American sports so now I'm going to run a prestigious English football club into the ground" Hicks has once again given the finger to Rangers fans. He basically told them all that if you want him to spend money on players that don't suck, the fans have to go out and spend money to watch the current sucky players play.
What sort of stupid business model is that? In what other industry can you give the ultimatum that unless you buy the faulty, overpriced, poorly designed product, the manufacturer refuses to put money into R&D to produce a quality product that people might actually want? Mr. Hicks needs to quit reading Dilbert and thinking that it's a How-To guide to successful business decisions.

Happy Birthday, Inky!

So, today was Pete Incaviglia's birthday.
Now I know, most of you are like, "Who?!!?" while a few others are like, "Why do you even care?!!?"
Okay, Pete was a sub-average player over most of career, but I'll tell ya, some of the most fun I ever had out at the old Arlington Stadium was watching Inky run like cow on fire down the first base line. He wasn't graceful and he wasn't fast, but man... he gave it his all. Same thing in left field.
He's best known as one of the greatest college players in history. He also never spent a day in the minor leagues (although maybe he should have). He was a slugger and he struck out... a lot. But I don't care. Next to Nolan Ryan, Pete Incaviglia is my favorite player.
Sure he's got a rep for being a jerk to fans. And yeah, his career was kind of pathetic, especially towards the end. So what that he was recently let go as aminor league hitting coach. He's Inky, and I think he's great.
For one thing, it's nice to like a guy that you can get memorabilia really cheap.
Once, I had a vivid dream that I discovered my living room wall could move. I pushed it aside and discovered that Pete Incaviglia had been living in a secret room behind my living room wall. He seemed annoyed that I'd found him, but he couldn't protest. He was, after all, living for free behind my living room wall.
This, like many other dreams, is not something I can figure out what my subconscious was trying to say. I don't think Freud ever covered dreams about former baseball players who live in secret compartments of one's home.
At any rate, happy birthday, Inky, wherever you are!