Friday, March 06, 2009

Life getting in the way of blogging

Well, that same damn John Brown poster has been at the top of my page all week when I totally meant to do all kinds of blogging. There's actually been a lot I want to talk about but I guess I've been too busy working, drinking beer, and watching sports to actually do any of it. I'll try to catch up this weekend but we'll see what happens.

First, I experienced the weirdest thing ever at the Replay last weekend, which, if you've ever been there is saying something. It's the type of place where I've seen homeless guys that can't walk get kicked out repeatedly, a guy with train cars tattooed across the front of his neck, a band wearing 18th century pirate shirts dump buckets of fake (?) blood over themselves, 40 year olds making out in front of everybody, dirty little hippy kids running around barefoot across the cig butts and decades of filth, a fake prom fundraiser with "Footloose" running on a loop in the background, and more! So, what would be weirder than all of that?

We were enjoying a nice beer while watching some movie featuring Chevy Chase and a large cast of midgets followed by Kurt Russell kicking ass in "Big Trouble in Little China" on the TV while waiting for some band from Omaha to play. Apparently the band is one of the side projects of the guitarist from the Faint but I'd never heard of them. We'd had great weather all week but it suddenly turned cold and snowed so most people didn't feel like going out which led to a pretty sparse crowd. Then, the opening band was basically a jam band cover band full of balding middle-aged guys. It's exactly the type of band you'd see playing at any number of small town festivals and you know exactly what you're going to get. The musicians are going to be pretty decent and they'll put on a decent show but it's not going to be anything better than that. At one point the drunk girl in front of me yelled "Freebird!" and one of the guitarist ripped on her for about thirty seconds to the point that the other band members were trying to get this dude to back off a little bit. I'm thinking, dude, you're in your upper 30's and playing in a cover band. Your cred isn't going to be ruined when somebody yells "Freebird!"

So, meanwhile this dude from the Faint is sitting in the back of the room staring at his laptop probably wondering what the fuck he is doing going on after these guys. All of the sudden I see two dudes wearing sweaters with collared shirts on walk by. The sight was so jarring that it took me a moment to process it. They immediately go up to the bartender and order a Budweiser and some shot. Like 90% of the people in this bar are adhering strictly to the hipster beers so the bartender looked a little confused along with the rest of the regulars in the bar. Everyone's kind of looking around as they realize that more and more of these dudes and a couple of girls are coming in and all ordering a beer and a shot. One of them comes up to me and asks if this is a Dead coverband. Umm, they're a cover band but not just Dead, I tell him and he reports that info back to his "brahs."

Pretty soon some chicks are bitching because their vodka-waters aren't here yet and the entire bar is overrun with frat dudes. Then, suddenly, they're whipping out pieces of paper, marking off the bar and whatever drinks they had, and they're gone. Were they ever really there? We'll never know. All I know is that the bartender gave the lesbians next to me a free vodka-water and we discussed whether this was some type of flash mob or something.

So, the band headlining band takes the stage to a crowd of, well, tens of people. They start ripping through their songs with little to no interaction with the crowd. At one point some girl yells "go Huskers!" I guess because the band was from Omaha? The lead singer looks at her with scorn and says wearily, "I don't even care about that stuff."
The drummer meekly piped up, "I do."
Lead singer gruffly says, "Two more songs."
One song later they were walking off the stage. Wow, thanks for coming guys.

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