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Archive for the 'Bad Times' Category

If Forever Never Comes…

Thursday, June 3rd, 2010

It can be a strange thing to visit something from one’s past. Where a childhood home once stood could now be a Burger King. A person whom you shared a first kiss with could stand next to you in the supermarket and there would be no recognition. Or the music venue where one saw so many great shows can now look like a prefabricated strip club – minus the strippers.

Boston’s was one of the best places to see shows in Tempe in the 1990’s. Here I saw Jawbreaker, Man or Astroman, The Promise Ring, Modest Mouse and many others. These were some of the best shows that I saw in my twenties.

For awhile Boston’s was closed and went through various incarnations. Now it is a music club again called Club 910. And I never could have imagined it ending up the way it is today.

Recently my band played there. I knew the place looked like trouble upon pulling into the parking lot. There was a red velvet rope out front and the dull glow of purple neon emanating from the door.

Whoever had bought this place had put in a ton of money into it, but had spent it in a very wrong way – which seems to be an epidemic in Phoenix, those having the funds not having any sort of clue about making a cool place that anyone would want to hang out at. There was a stripper pole planted in the bar and faux classy couches situated around the club that looked like they were purchased at Jenna Jameson’s yard sale. The outside part of the club, where they used to have outdoor shows when it was still Boston’s used to have a rough gritty charm – so much asphalt surrounded by cyclone fencing, was now poured over with smooth cement and was dotted with firepits, looking like the scene of some reality show where the presence of shirtless, ripped dudes who communicated via grunts and snorts would not be out of the ordinary.

I was not in the best of mood when it was time to play. I set up my bass equipment and had to deal with the two sound guys who were on the scene. One of the soundmen was disappointed that my cabinet did not have 10 inch speakers. It’s a vintage Sunn that has two fifteens – not a Trace Elliot. He ran a direct input from my amp but seemed to be confused about my gear. He asked me if I had any sort of envelope filter set up – what, does he think that I play bass for Korn or something?

We proceeded to play under an almost seizure inducing array of lights that were being projected onto the stage. Before we played I made the joke that “It’s great to be back here at Boston’s”. The audience was empty except for my girlfriend, and the ghost of my twenty-three year old self, who was clearly flipping me off.

Back from the dead (but just barely)…

Sunday, November 5th, 2006

Last tuesday evening I felt like I might be coming down with the flu, I had a slight headache and felt like I had no energy. Instead of thinking, “Hey I better just rest tonight” I thought that going jogging would make feel better. I thought it would be good to get the blood flowing and that by going jogging it would somehow mobilize my immune system, making my white blood cells as strong as the North Korean Army.

I was wrong, the next day I felt like I had contracted a virus that could not be of this earth. This sickness, which struck on Halloween could only have had its origins in pure evil.

I missed work for two days, and learned the following things:

1. The dog that starts barking at 7:00 am when I usually wake up, barks all day – maybe this is a normal thing, or this hellhound somehow knew my misery and was only tring to contribute to it.

2. There is nothing “light” about the light rail construction going on in my neighborhood. And from what I could conclude from listening to the clink and clanks all day, the city of Phoenix must have an army of trained apes striking at the bare tracks all day with lead pipes.

3. Drinking coffee does not speed up the recovery process.

So now I am doing okay, with only a slight head cold.

The dog still barks all day, but now it sounds like sweet music.

Stay healthy out there kids.

Bandaged finger

Tuesday, March 8th, 2005

Responses to , “Dude, what happened to your finger?” A) I was down fishin’ for catfish in the dirty crek, usin some big ole wigglers I find under an old log. I felt a tug on my line, thinkin that I’d caught me a big ole fish. I started a thinkin bout the grins my friends would have when i’d serve em up this fish fried with some onions, and ice cold sweet tea to drink. I fought this damned fish, like I was the Good Lord in a tangle with Lucifer. No giant, fish-beast was gonna make me to be no fool. I pulled up the line, where there was no darn fish, just a danglin’ mud turtle. Damn thing nearly bit my finger off like some crazy beaver bitin’ a tree branch. B) I heard that all the hipsters hanging out in Williamsburg were dressing as mummies. In an attempt to stay at the cusp of what is cool, I decided to transform myself into a mummy. I would bring this trend to Tempe, where I would drink expensive scotch at Casey Moore’s while bandaged from head to toe. All the hipsters would at first scoff at me, only to return the next week wearing the same mummy garb. I started thinking about the heatlamps at Casey’s and the real fire danger they present. The thought of screaming, mummified hipsters running around while on fire was too much for me to bear. I decided after wrapping one finger that I would not introduce this fashion trend to Tempe. C) Umm dude, So i cut my finger with a box cutter. It didn’t hurt. I probably needed stiches but I didn’t go to the hospital, I just went to Walgreen’s and bought some medical supplies…oh hey do you want to hear my new song I have down on the Casio? I can still play it… hold on. Boop-Boop, beep beep…