The band was smokin last night
Well, first my father and I were driving through Old Town. We both were dressed to play, wearing all black with white ties. I was wearing my Opa Age black hat and not my usual cowboy hat even though I planned on wearing my Dad's during the evening at the bar.
In Old Town, we saw this angry guy with a buzz cut and a yellow shirt semi-wrestling with his friends, then he flounced away in a very mocking homosexuals way and then looked back angrily. Like he was ready for a fight. Strange behavior.
Then right before we got to the gig there was a normal looking guy with a bull horn and a bible and he was preaching. He was talking about Glatians, which in my encounteres with anti-mormon fanatics this is what is talked about since it mentions in that part of the bible that, "No man nor any angel shall undo my work" or some such. Basically, Christ was saying no one should pervert the bible into something deviant or whatever.
Anti-Mormon fanatics exaggerate what Christ meant and say that the Angel who appeared before Joseph Smith, the angel Moroni, must have been a fallen angel since he dared to even slightly change the way that Christianity is perceived.
So then we get to the gig and everything was great. I played, "It Must Have Been the Roses" and "Man of Constant Sorrow" and everyone said that I have a great voice. The band kicked total ass during the middle of the performance with these really fast banjo jams.
Basically, anytime we play for older folks who tend to be shit stompers the band is going to kick ass. These were a bunch of ex-military types so we acted accordingly.
At the end of the show, I met a guy with kids named Jerry. He was cool except we talked about music and I said that at one time I liked the Grateful Dead. He got kind of strange and said, "I'll just make fun of you so my friend Kile will be happy. Heh" or something like that.
How weird. Then two old ladies kissed on the lips the way women do in America and Jerry started talking about Europe and stuff. I just kind of shrugged and said I've always wanted to go to Europe to visit. He didn't say anything.
Anyway, lots of people started coming up to me and saying they were glad that I came because of my voice. They wanted me to sing again, but I have forgotten the chords to "Dark Hollow" which is the song I really wanted to play. But at least I played the Roses song.
The band kicked ass in the midst of shit stompin guys and weird stuff happening with religion. OH, one more thing. Right before the band played a woman came up and said that she had lost her cat and that she needed to put up a sign. I asked the twentysomething kids that were setting up in the above room for their "hardcore" metal party. They said it was okay.
I think it was funny that they gave me strange looks when I went out for an indungance. I smoked a cigar. They were into simplistic metal and rap and hip hop so there was no way a real heavy metal guy like me could ever party with them. And yet they always come to guys like me (probably people I know) for weed and stuff and to record their music like both my Uncles do.
Kooks. The division of the young kids (oh so cool) and the older crowd. Oh, well. Locals only & shit. I'm still probably going to kiss a guy as a joke this weekend (tomorrow maybe). Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. It's really up to the guy.
Peace!
All these nerds (shit stompers and dorky teen posers) need to come to a real party. Our parties reign supreme above these pathetic bullshit things with the young kids lookin all hesher and skitcher at the old people, and the old people disgusted with the young dorks . . . One party upstairs and one party downstairs . . . when there should be one party. Dorks.
It's almost enough to make you feel a little superior . ..
:lol:
