Wednesday, November 26, 2008

July the 4th II: The Aftermath to Lenny's

As I neared the top of the shrubbery, I heard a snap. With catatonic reflex, I grabbed ahold of another limb to support my drunken ascent.

The leaves. The sky. The lawn below. They all blurred as a gracefully fell like a ballerina dancing over a gorge. I should have had stitches, or at least been taken to a nearby Grady rent-a-doctor. I should be paralyzed and going to lecture halls, warning indifferent students about the dangers or drinking and climbing.

Fortunately, the recycling bin broke my fall.

As I cleaned myself up from the mess of trash and broken branches, everyone kept swilling from the same bottle of intoxicating rum. And because of my wounds, or because I was the unofficial king of the party, but I ended up with the last 4th of the bottle, which would cause much carnage later.


Lenny's is in the strip mall at Boulevard and Dekalb Ave/Marietta St. It used to be 2 stores, but they knocked down the wall and made it one big basement venue. To compensate for the lack of architecture and decoration, they set up a makeshift patio on the outside. As a perimeter, they setup posts cemented into buckets, all strung together with flimsy-ass yellow rope.

TBC...

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Throne's Been Overturned

Kenny. He's the kind of guy to make you buy him a PBR, but who couldn't be more indifferent when you give it to him. To throw a barbecue and ask people to bring their own meats AND their own beers. The same guy I bought Iced Italians for when he underwent life threatening surgery.

Anyhow, Kenny plays drums in my band, and we practice at my house, on my stuff. But before anyone plays on my set, I lay down one simple rule:

You break it, You buy it.

Of course, he complied. Fully.


So a few weeks ago, we held our typical Friday night band practice. We went through the songs like James Brown went through backing bands. Everything was going rockingly, when suddenly, he broke the unthinkable:

he broke my drum throne.

The same throne that belonged to Gringo Star when they were called A Fir-Ju Well.
The one piece that survived my previous set and four different moves across Atlanta.
The one that's never let me down.

Yea, it's kinda sentimental.

And of course Kenny, being typical Kenny, only agreed to pay for half of it. He blamed it on the wear and tear; the fact that it was a previously used piece of butt luxury. He said if it were to happen to any other piece of my set, he would gladly fork over some Benjamins. But this apparently did not count because he didn't 'sit in it' wrong.

Hm, apparently.


So I begrudgingly boiled it down to two options:

A.) Kick him out of the band and find a new drummer.

Pros: the option to find a drummer that's either as good, or better than me.
Cons: Finding a drummer that's either as good, or better than me.

B.) Split the cost for a new drum throne.

Pros: Sweet ass seat for a sweet ass set.
Cons: Having to look and pay for a throne that I DIDN'T BREAK.

After much drunken consideration, guess which one I chose?



Sometimes what is right is not always what is righteous.
But you best believe I am deeply committed to the notion of Karma.

Practice starts in less than two weeks.

Monday, November 3, 2008

July the 4th I: The Patriotic Weiner

Last year, me and my friends grilled out at Skenderville, in typical 4th of July buffoonery. With a generous supply of scratchy vinyl and frothy PBR's, many of Atlanta's finest, including Black Lips, Gringo Star, and King Khan and the Shrines, showed up to drown their workday sorrows. Well, about midway through our righteous congregation, some friends showed up with a trunkful of South Carolinian fireworks. The sky soon filled with sparkling delight, leaving a mess of empty casings and parachutes on the streets below.

Our good friend Jessica Juggz somehow thought to tie one of these parachutes to a dirty veggie dog. And it looked beautiful in its edible patriotic form. It was so beautiful that she wanted to hang it from the skyline-high trees. Up and up she climbed, but soon realized that she couldn't get enough height. And in our finest moment of stupidity, the adrenaline kicked in, and I soon found myself sprawling up the branches like a drunken squirrel.

TBC...