Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Dudefest Day 1: Death and a handful of nickels


Friday, June 19

An ode to poo..


It’s day one of Dudefest, yet I’m still not in Indianapolis.
The dozen or so dudes of Gaza and the_Network, who shared the hardwood floors at the Error House, tag-teamed the shower, then parted ways for Indianapolis.

Gas, heart attacks and hallucinations

The_Network stopped for gas right outside the University of Illinois before heading to Indy, which is around $3.98 a gallon, making this Californian say things like, “What the fuck?” and “What the hell were their gas prices before the oil corp. execs decided to rape and pillage?”
You’d think a stop at the gas station would be completely normal. Everyone sits idle while the guy pumping the gas does his best not to wince at the amount of cash burning up in thin air.
But this day, in the matter of five minutes, an old man nearly drug his wife – who was halfway out the driverside door – across the gas station parking lot, while in the midst of what seemed to either be a heart attack, or severe dementia. After the gas station attendant ran out and managed to avoid all common sense by asking, “Should I call 9-1-1?” an ambulance showed up.
Seeing old people die wasn’t the end of it, I mean, that’s what old people do, they die. An average sized black dude on a mini bike drove through the whole scene, diverting our attention from the withered old man being strapped down to a gurney.
But still this wasn’t all.
Another random guy, who looked like one of the only vatos locos in town, strolled by the van doing his best gangster strut, and asked the guys if they were in a band. After answering yes, the guy asked the name of the band. But really, what vato would know who the_Network is? He’d have to be doing time for being scummy, that’s for sure.
But after the guy was given a response from Bennett, he said he’d heard of the band and that a friend from Mass. told him about the_Network. At this point, we were all questioning how PCP got into our drinking water.

Dudefest, Day 1

Here at BMA, we hold the term “fashionably late” with much importance when getting to a venue.
It was about 8 p.m., the_Network and Gaza were already at the Emerson Theater, yet the BMA staff lagged – but after spending the day with a bunch of crusty dudes, a shower had to be in order on my part.

Here’s what I recall about the night prior to heading over to Zanie’s Too:
  • Talking about poo with Jon from Gaza
  • Getting a dollars worth of nickels in change from the nearby McDonalds, ‘cause dude was too lazy to wait for paper money, and with no slot machines in sight, this was useless to me.
  • Following those Utah hooligans of Gaza -- Casey, Luke, Mike and friend of Gaza, whose name I can’t remember for the life of me – back to their van, while they guzzled Bud Light and played catch with a football at the steps of a church.
  • Watching only one band, Coliseum – Okay, two when adding the maybe five minutes of Torche (I think).
  • Considering taping the repeated response we had to give when people asked us why The Red Chord couldn’t make it.
Two-pack a day voiced bartenders

At Zanie’s Too, there were two bartenders, neither were remotely attractive. And due to their two-pack-a-day voices, neither would even be hired as phone sex operators – that is unless you dig your chicks sounding like a Louis Armstrong and Barry White fusion. That’s pretty much a huge separation from California, where a majority of the time the bartenders are attractive, but then again, alcohol is more expensive and the bars close two hours earlier.

Here’s what the night mainly consisted of prior to the_Network playing:
  • Kevin from the_Network and I whooped this guy’s ass in pool, not once, but twice. Apparently three times if you factor in the Kevin vs. guy-whose-name-I-can’t-remember’s first round.
  • Luke from Gaza recapping his experience with getting a ride from Scott Hull of Pig Destroyer to the bar.
The_Network’s performance was an eye-opening experience, namely for Metal Jeff, the photographer traveling with the band. Jeff took Pete's peddle board straight to the eye, making him look like Ike Turner told him what's up from the grave. But that’s not all folks; pretty much all of Gaza was trying to get in on the mix during the scummers’ set, showing their drunken support, one bruised nipple or other form of bodily injury at a time.


Stay tunned for Day's two and three..

-Sheena, BMA Publicity Assistant

1 comment:

Bryce said...

My name is Bryce, SHEENA!