No Exceptions

So this is why everybody in the place was so tight. All I needed was another 46 cents so I could buy my 37th draft Bud Light of the evening.

Maintaining Contact

Lisa never drinks when we frequent local taverns. But boy, will she ever wear out her Sidekick III. And it leads to moments like this:

"Yeah!" Lisa says in a voice that broadcasts across not only cellular airwaves but also the room in which we sit. "We're in a bar with a bunch of sleezeballs. You ought to join us!"

Old Time Gospel With The Church

Full confessional: I do not like acoustic tours. If a band records an album using electric guitars, do us the favor and use electric guitars during a live performance too. Especially for bands like Australia's The Church that is rooted in shimmering psychedelia, courtesy of Rickenbacker guitars that require an electrical outlet.

But seeing as The Church was one of the first bands to appear on MTV's Unplugged back in the late 1980's doing their only hit "Under the Milky Way" --- a song that doesn't have much electric guitar to begin with but still sounds lovely in a stripped down mode --- they can be forgiven this transgression.

So acoustic is how the band is rolling these days and is how they played their first Dallas gig in 16 years at The Granada Theater. And with a great sound system and easy sight lines, The Granada is the right place to see and hear a hushed acoustic gig. As usual, a few stupid girls near the stage couldn't shut their mouths during the show --- something Steve Kilbey made mention of during the bands set (Please take note idiots --- bands hate when you talk while they try to play. It makes them not want to return to our city). Other than that usual Dallas annoyance, The Church sounded as rich as ever. But you had to close your eyes and imagine if you wanted to see the moppy haired paisley sporting Aussies because Kilbey and guitarist Marty Wilson Piper are both pushing 50 now and are looking every minute of it.

And those, like me, who wanted to hear a set heavily rooted in "Hey Day" "Remote Luxury" and "Starfish" albums would have to go home and listen to those CDs by themselves because the Church mostly abandoned playing selections from those fine works. Of course, "Under the Milky Way" got played --- certainly to stave off a potential riot from people who come to see them only wanting to hear that song.

Opening act Rob Dickinson, the former lead singer of England's dearly departed "The Catherine Wheel" was outstanding. Although he performed alone, he owned the stage, and alternately switched his guitar from acoustic to electric as he rolled his eyes back in his head and pushed some ever so slightly over-wrought lyrics from his first solo release out of his mouth. Dickinson tossed the crowd a few "Catherine Wheel" bones, including a scorching version of "Crank" and the band's signature song "Black Metallic". I got the impression that most people in the crowd were not ready for Dickinson to leave at the end of his 50 plus minute set. If he returns to Dallas, I'll return to his show. And so should you.

Just Got Out Of The Joint

Good new kids, Daddy just got back from Huntsville.

Bikes & Bikes

Non Food

Don't ask if we have any food in here.

Ron Klaus Wrecked His House

I just got a copy of Big Dipper's "Craps" album in the mail after ordering it off Half.com

I haven't heard this album in over a decade and it's more genius than I remember. It's alternately punchy and weird and never boring. And unlike more than half of the music I hear now, Big Dipper doesn't sound like anybody --- well maybe a little like The Volcano Suns, Dumptruck and The Embarrasment, who all contributed members that made up Big Dipper.

Rob used to put "Hey! Mr. Lincoln" on just about every mix tape he'd make. I've heard this song about 200 times, and I'm still not sure what it's about --- maybe it's about trying to cheer up our most famous president just before he gets shot --- you know the one before Kennedy.

"Ron Klaus Wrecked His House" is about one of the band's drummers who tore up his rent house so he could get out of the lease.

Then there's "Bonnie" which is about some chick's back yard.

No wonder I loved this album when it came out in 1988 --- my life in Austin was all about screwed up friends in bad rent houses, assasinated presidents and girl's back yards when I was 21 years old.

I saw Big Dipper play at Liberty Lunch in Austin around 1990 during their tour in support of the maligned "Slam" album. Slam was good, according to me. Genius reduced is still genius. I told Big Dipper bass player Steve Michener that after the show. Or maybe I didn't. That's probably why they broke up from discouragement and Steve Michener is now a male nurse in California.

Dive Bar Bravery

The worst --- or most dangerous --- bar in East Dallas is Johnny's Club Vegas just a few blocks away from my house. As an example, two days ago several Dallas police officers were outside of the bar, hauling off a bunch of guys in handcuffs for all manner of felonies.

But Johnny's will soon close because a developer has bought the whole block and plans to put up townhomes. So I told my friend Lisa we had to go to Johnny's, take photos, and say we'd been there before it was no more.

Lisa and I climbed the moutain of Johnny's. And the view from the top was fantastic.

Johnny's was everything I expected and more. This is not a dive bar that the hipsters frequent. In fact it's not even a dive bar. It's an alcoholic bar --- the kind of place that does more business at 7 a.m. than 10 p.m. It's beat up as hell, the air conditioning doesn't work, and you'd better like Budweiser because that's all they've got.

But despite it's rough exterior, the people inside were wonderful, at least on this night. I immediately made friends with Jeff, who "stays" with his girl in an apartment up the street. Jeff had just got off work from driving a forklift in a warehouse. It was his birthday --- he just turned 45. Jeff and I played some monumental pool --- one of the best games I've ever played. He bought me beers, I bought him beers and all was right with the world.

In the middle of our ferocious billiards game, I put some cash in the jukebox. For some reason punched up some tunes by a R&B guy I was unfamiliar with. My selection, number 5901, was "Who's Making Love" by Johnnie Taylor. Turns out, that was exactly the right song to play in Johnny's. Jeff yelled "That's J.T.!!" And J.T. sings the smoothest, coolest, groove you could ever imagine.

To think, I was always afraid of Johnny's. Now I know it's got it's own peculiar beauty. And that will be my one and only opportunity to visit Johnny's before it's knocked down in the name of $250,000 condos.

But I'll have memories of the very cool Jeff. And I'm going to go buy a copy of Johhnie Taylors' "Who's Making Love" album.

Worst Show Ever

I decree that the upcoming double bill of Hoobastank and Nickleback will be the worst rock show in Dallas history.

Yes, that's a strong statement, seeing that Creed has played in Dallas several times, including a horrendous appearance as the half-time act at a Thanksgiving Day Cowboys game several years ago when Scott Stapp committed a huge sports faux pas by wearing a Cowboys jersey with his own name on the back.

Hoobastank/Nickleback will no doubt revel in their unoriginality, torturing the tired Pearl Jam genre with a stunning 45 minute set of songs cribbed from notes that 13-year-old girls passed around during study hall. But what will absolutely make this the worst rock performance in Dallas history is that it will be held on August 26th, outside, at the Smirnoff Music Centre. That's right --- outside in Dallas. And if the past two weeks have been any indication, it's gonna be hotter than Ace Frehley's smoking guitar on August 26th.

If The Clash reformed (Joe Strummer, God rest your soul) and played at Smirnoff on August 26th, I'd stay home. Rock is simply not meant to be seen outside. It needs darkness, a sense of foreboding, and a sticky bar that only serves low grade vodka and domestic beer.

Yeah, sure, hit me with all kinds arguments about how Woodstock was held outside and signaled a movement in rock. But for every Woodstock, there's an Altamont where people pass out and get stabbed by the Hell's Angels.

Here in Dallas, we only have the Texxas Jams from the 1980s to look back on as somewhat monumental outdoor rock performances. I'd count the Lalapoloosas, but I didn't go to those. I did go to a couple of those Cotton Bowl Jam summer events in high school. And I wouldn't have admitted it then, but they sucked. It was 4 million degrees in the stadium, there were lots of girls dressed in little or nothing there who should have left a whole lot more to the imagination, and the only way to cool off was to get hit by a freaking fire hose shot from the stage. Then, after sitting through Uriah Heap, Jam goers were rewarded by the rock opera performance by Styxx doing the supremely retarded "Mr. Roboto" theatrics.

So go on. See Hooba's stank at the Smirnoff if you want. But don't ask for your nickle back when the smell of your own wretchedness makes the exit gate look like a really good idea before the opening act has even played their last note.

Fred Sanford Style

I'm not an expert in antique furniture, but I can spot a good deal when it's free.

That's what happened two years ago when I saw three of these chairs out near a dumpster in a warehouse area in East Dallas. They were all beat to hell, had suffered massive sun exposure which burned off most of the finish, and two of the three I found were missing their cushions.

I loaded them into my truck, took them home and over the course of a weekend, I stripped all of them and stained them dark red mahogany. I repaired the seat cushions and covered them in fake red leather. I would have used real red leather if the material was readily available.

Upon further research, these are authentic English barley twist chairs. The barley twist refers to the two contorted front legs. The chairs were popular around the turn of the century up until the 1930's. These are likely products of the 1920's seeing as they are a bit more utilitarian than Victorian era furniture.

I just looked up photos of other original unrestored barley twist chairs. Most of them are stained dark red mahogany and are covered in red leather. Pleather had not yet been invented in 1920, so I got that wrong. But for the most part, I seem to be in tune with the antique gods.

On Ebay, most of these chairs are going for around $350 a piece. I could sell them, but then I wouldn't have anything to sit on.

More Crazy Old People

There are lots of old people where I live. I guess it just goes with the territory --- old houses, old people. Some of them, like this guy I see outside his once palacial house on a very toney East Dallas street, likely bought and paid for his home decades earlier when is was cheap and nobody wanted it.

Anyway, some old people can't maintain their houses. That's completely understandable. They're infirm. It'll happen to me too. But some of the old people, like the guy on toney street, is likely just a bit crazy. His house is painted a couple of different colors --- not as a contrast, but likely because he still can't decide what color to paint the house he's lived in for 40 years. Last year he hired contractors to put in a new front walkway and front steps. But the steps went unfinished for that entire year. For months, he posted a sign near the steps as a sort of an apology to passers by. But the sign also blamed the Dallas City Council for shutting down his project. Likely, old guy didn't pull a permit from the city which shut everything down. Dude, you have to play by the rules. You ought to know that by now. But maybe crazy excuses that as well.

This morning, I saw him watering some new grass that he had planted near his finally completed walkway and front steps. He was hand watering the grass strips --- all of which were completely brown --- with a garden hose. The rest of his yard is also the same and is completely dead and dried up.

Again, Mr. Crazy Old Man, you have to play by the rules when it comes to nature, or you'll lose every time. Half assed watering once a month won't cut it.

Then I thought, that dude is me in about 30 years --- half assed and completely crazy.

Disney Recommendation

A number of years ago, I had to get a car part painted. Not the whole car mind you, just the rear bumper. Some chick hit me and her insurance paid for the repair. But to save money, I took a new bumper to a body shop and asked how much they'd charge to paint the bumper. It was a lot less for them to paint the part and for me to put it on myself, so I did.

I inquired with the manager of the body shop about the quality of their painting services. His reply was this: "Believe you me, it won't be no Mickey Mouse."

With that resounding endorsement, I had that shop do the work. And it wasn't no Mickey Mouse job. Goofy or Daffy for that matter either.

There's a pretty decent 15th anniversary piece on Salon.com about the movie "Slacker" which was shot in Austin during the summer of 1989. That was the summer before I graduated from UT. I hung around Austin for about a year and half after graduation. I wasn't the only one, which is pretty much was the movie is all about.

I've mentioned this before, but part of the movie was shot in my buddy Rob's rent house. I knew some of the people in the movie. Ok, I really only sort of knew Whamo the "anti-artist" character in the film. He used to man the bar at the Cannibal Club and would supply Rob and I up with free double tall whiskey and Cokes.

I saw the movie at the Dobie theater when it was first released. I really wasn't impressed. At the time, I was trying my best to leave the Austin lifestyle without much success. I had a cheap apartment, few living expenses and a job that paid enough for me to get by. I spent a great deal of time boozing with friends, playing ball and seeing rock shows I never paid for because Rob always had a hookup. But what I really wanted was a job in a bigger city a career and to be able to call myself a professional.

Fuck that. I'm borrowing the wayback machine from Uncle Rico and setting it for 1989.