Poison/Phish Tour Confuses Fans, Music Industry

For Phish it will be a reunion, and for Poison fans, well, it would have been another Poison tour if a rambling daydream hadn't been turned into what some are calling an unholy, Frankenstein idea of a tour. Others just keep thinking, wow, Phish is coming back... coming back with Poison.

"The novelty of saying "The Poison Phish Tour" kept going through my head. I was like, oh my God! what if we got away with it?," mused Trey Anastasio when asked about how the plans came together.

"The beauty of it," remarked C.C. DeVille, "is that probably 95% of the fan base for both bands hates the other... and now we're forcing them together. It's like when Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson were in Anger Management - everyone felt a little nauseous trying to picture it and then it turned out so raging funny."

Music authorities like Rolling Stone Magazine claim that the opening band for a tour such as this would have to be construed of mostly schizophrenic members. One writer, who wanted to remain anonymous, said that "...all he could imagine opening up for this ill-matched pipe dream would be Mick Jagger and Michael Jackson doing "State of Shock" - over and over again".

MTV jovially played on the comedic possibilities of the tour, set for Fall 2005, with the release of this statement: We are pleased that both Poison and Phish will be gracing us with their presence - together. What would be great to see is Poison opening with "Look What the Cat Dragged In" which would include a man in a giant cat costume carrying Mike Gordon (dressed as a fish) in it's mouth and if Phish opened with Fluffhead (as long as Poison didn't disappoint on the hair end of things). The possibilities will be endless if the two bands really get along enough to pull this off in the first place.

Others thought that bringing two groups of such diverse fans together without the setting of a music festival consisting of many other bands, would be treacherous. One Phish fan said that he doubted how aggressive his peers would be in getting the good seats under such conditions, "We'll be lucky to get even 5% Phish fans in the first twenty rows. I'm praying for a spot in the taper section."

A Poison fan said he was sure that there wouldn't be any conflict whatsoever, "...whichever band played first could be sure that their fans would be cleared out by the end. I don't really understand what they're trying to accomplish with this".

With a maniacal grin, Trey assured us that neither group of fans would be leaving early, "We're going to play on a rotation. The fans won't know which band is going to play next. No one's going anywhere. It's going to be like the first time someone put jelly with peanut butter... delicious."

"Quadropus" - Another Dud Band Name

Budding guitarist, Alex Grist, spent the better part of this past Saturday with his head in a bottle of Rock n' Rye after learning that his favorite band name creation to date, "Quadropus", was all over the internet (many being used in musical capacities).

"I had this feeling," Alex gobbed between tears, "like, this is the name, man. This is the name!!"

Although, he does not have a drummer or any other committed members of his band yet, Alex claims that that doesn't matter, "Quadropus" was going to shine like a diamond, man. Everyone was going to know us. Our first hit was going to be "The Death of Doc Oc".

Reactions of Alex's friends spanned from mildly sympathetic to overtly mocking. One friend said, "I've heard enough. Until Alex learns some chords, who cares if he has a good name for a band. Staying drunk like a rock star, does not one make."

All agreeing, well said, well said.

The Lord of the Bees

is what William Golding should have entitled a sequel to his classic, middle-school saturated, reading list entry, The Lord of the Flies. This "sequel" lays things down in a more psychological manner... it says, here are the seedlings for a viscous dictatorship spawned by anarchy, right on your local elementary school's playground.

Why bees? Well, you need to make-up for the lost chaos effect of being stranded. Bees are much more ominous than flies (on a playground anyway).

Another reason: tell me whether you would start questioning the freakiness of the fact that at least 7 bee stings among eighty kids occurred within an hour's time, on my son's playground today.

The day was weird all over. I won't go into it all now, but let's just say that a full moon, the last day of school and an uncharacteristically un-hot day combined with bad news phone calls made for a less than throw your backpacks in the air... and let's not forget the car backing into the bus in the parking lot as the kids are boarding to go home. "This is not my beautiful last day of school", the older ones must have thought, "only adults could ruin this day..."

Perhaps things would have run better if the kids were in charge. So go ahead, cut to clusters of faux gangs stomping out the spawn of some odd orange-egg producing insect, chase scenes, skinned knees, children coming back from the office with ice bags on their bee stings, genocide on the daddy-long-legs, and the arguments: "such and such said that I was married to such and such" "such and such won't play with me" "there's no soft spot for me to rest". Tell me little one, would you complain to your self-proclaimed child leader? Would you dare approach the King Kid who wears a crown of knotted praying mantises? I believe you would not.

On the last day, perhaps the children would rule in what they believe would be a candy-filled better place. This would last about three minutes at which when was over would be interrupted by hair-pulling and kicking each other in a frenzy to obtain all the red ones.

Walmart: One Step Away from Owning the Universe

Something frightening occurred to me the other day... I had visited several stores in order to obtain materials for an elementary school Field Day. My shopping list was this:

poster board
giant marker
dowels or sign posts
vodka
Red Bull
cute stickers
marking spray paint

I know that you're thinking I could have bought everything I needed at Walmart minus the liquor. You're right. Instead, I went to the Dollar Tree, Home Depot, Hobby Lobby, a liquor store and Eckerd's. That's a lot of places for seven items. Almost a store per item.

Why not go to Walmart?
Well, honestly, Walmart is like a giant vampire, but instead of sucking your blood, it sucks away your soul and money with one giant straw. I try not to go there all the time because I don't want to spend the rest of the day feeling used.

The scary thing is, if Walmart did sell liquor, people wouldn't need to go anywhere else. O.k., I know there's things like lumber and designer clothes that you can't really get there, but I think you know what I mean. Basically, all shopping could really be done in one place. Imagine if they sold cars and houses too. Walmarts across the country would turn into giant black holes, sucking all the other stores into its pin size stomach (I know that this has already begun to happen in many towns, especially small ones).

And what is probably the scariest element about this story to you, the reader, is that you think that I needed vodka and Red Bull for Field Day. Don't fear, this was for after Field Day.

If it's not minimalist, it's crap...

yeah, that's what I thought too.

Bangor, Maine Offended by Flight Diversions

After yet another flight was diverted to Bangor, Maine when the FBI found a no-fly guy on a plane in mid-air from Paris to Boston, officials from the city issued the following statement:

"When you divert flight after flight here, to the beautiful city of Bangor, you're basically saying to all of us here that we have so little to offer that there's not even a single terrorist in the world that would gain anything from landing here. We're not that boring you know. We have a lot of really, really nice people up here and you know, haven't you thought that terrorists might have a "Operation Get the Nice People of Bangor, Maine" plan somewhere in one of those hard drives?"

Other people in Bangor are pissed because the FAA makes them pay for hotels and food for all the passengers of the diverted flights. One owner of a Denny's restaurant which is connected to a Howard Johnson's said Thursday, "Has anyone involved with Homeland Security, the FAA, the FBI or the other mega-bureaus thought about possibly, just maybe, not letting these planes get off the ground in the first place? What's the point of the no-fly list if it doesn't keep the people from getting into the air to begin with?"

These points were briefly considered by the FBI and FAA, then dismissed as being way too involved and costly.

Airhead Moment

Last night we were watching David Letterman. Mike Smith, the winning jockey for Giacomo, who won the Kentucky Derby this past weekend, (in case anyone has been living inside of a noodle the past few days) read off the "Top Ten Tips for Winning the Kentucky Derby". Number One was "It helps if Jose Canseco is your trainer".

Now, I know enough about baseball to know that Jose Canseco is the infamous player in the middle, and/or the instigator of, the most recent steroid use accusations within the world of baseball. The following will show that I also know just enough about horse races to make a donkey's ass out of myself.

So, with an I'm-going-to-show-that-David-Letterman-something attitude, I turn to my husband and say, "But what use are steroids to jockeys? They're supposed to be short and lightweight."

...Before he could finish saying with a shit-eating-grin, "Honey - they're talking about the horses" I realized the embarrassing reality of my comment and was doubled over in awe at the ridiculous way my brain functions (or doesn't) sometimes.

This is a true anecdote and if it wasn't so contradictory to do so, I would spend two hours a day, on the corner, repeating over and over again, "think before you speak".

Welcome to the First Installment of...

...Handy Cat !

For Handy Cat!'s first segment he's going to tell you how to obtain, then scoot a nail around the floor until it gets stuck under the refrigerator:

"You may remember me as Ginsberg, who served time for aggressive harassment. Well, don't worry folks. My new job as Handy Cat!(TM) has set me on the path of riotousness.

Meow, the first thing you're going to need to do is get the nail out of the toolbox. This will take strong paws and/or the help of your jaws. Try grabbing the nail with your fangs while your paw helps set it into place with a firm grip. Once you have it, run with it. Show off a little. Next, drop it, jump up into the air in an arc then pounce down on it hard (minding the pointy part). Repeat. Repeat. After you get tired of that, sit down for a few moments and look completely uninterested while you steal glances at the victim (or nail). Then, with a fury of feline rage, start bopping the nail to and fro. Left paw, right paw. Right paw, left paw. Mix it up a little. Eventually, it will get stuck under something, in this case, the refrigerator. You're then set to meow indefinitely until your Feeder breaks their back trying to get it out for you."

Don't forget to catch the next installment of Handy Cat! when Handy Cat! paints the carpet with paw prints!

Here's to 25 Years with My Sea Monkeys

I'm so happy! My sea monkeys have finally started talking to me! I can still remember the day I discovered the colorful order form in my brother's Uncle Scrooge comic book in 1979. The picture showed glorious creatures, regally dressed with crowns and pitchforks. The form said that they would do tricks, grow large and even talk to me! I couldn't wait to meet my new sea friends. I knew that I would have so many questions to ask them. Alas, I had to wait so long.

Oh, Plankton...
Oh, King and Queen of krill and microorganisms
Look mercifully on your humble servant
for now the day has come...
For so long you were nothing
but the shadow of tiny tadpoles
In the right light, you were see through.
Now, the tricks! the spins! the acrobatics! What choreography!
And finally, I hear your sweet voices. At night, you tap on the glass with your pitchforks to wake me up, so I can join the great debates of your species.
-discourse to overshadow Plato and Socrates. The very secrets of the Universe.
I have learned so much from you. No wonder I had to wait 25 years to hear your conversations. Could a child begin to understand your vast knowledge?
Oh, Sea Monkeys, my water heroes.

But, now, there is another feeling. I can't deny it -- it is overwhelming. Even your pleas and terrified objections cannot sway the person taking over inside of me. Yes, Sea Monkeys, I must cook and eat you. Even the King and Queen. And yes, you Jester, who just now has proven friendship through jovial laughter and surprises.

You are too plump and juicy now, Oh, Sea Monkeys. Can you not hear the song? "Your time is come. Bring forth the spices." Your cries have turned from screams to the song of the great Cajun feast. Now, do you hear it?"

I will always remember you.

Does Gattaca Suck? Yes or No.

It was totally anti-climatic. After spending late Sunday morning trying to remember the name of the 1997 futuristic movie starring Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke, it was such a let down, "oh, it's Gattaca." We started out looking for something that began with 'E' but my quicker friend, C.H., moved on to 'G' where the guess, 'galactica' finally got us on the right trail (briefly sidetracked by the 80's game, "Galaxian"). But when it finally struck us, it was so lame. There was no, "I GOT IT!" feeling. We had to reassure ourselves several times that we actually had the right name. I'll admit, I didn't really feel comfortable with our final answer until just a few minutes ago when I looked it up on Netflix. So many times we jog our brains trying to conjure up people's names and places where we last saw a lost object, and usually we are left with such a feeling of accomplishment when we finally remember them. I bet that 99 times out of 100 the body releases serotonin into the brain at that special moment. Every time, except for "Gattaca". Remembering the name "Gattaca" was more like feeling good about yourself because you got whacked over the head with a Styrofoam noodle and lived.

So yesterday, what a let down. Pretty good movie, pretty lame name as far as the opinion of the brain, although "Gattaca" rolls off the tongue rather nicely. In fact, I've grown quite fond of the name "Gattaca" and sort of wish that a movie with higher box office numbers would have gotten to use it. Maybe I would have remembered the name right off and spared myself and my friends the lame game of "remember it" that we played if the movie would have stayed in the theaters longer. Heck, maybe "Gattaca" does suck for the simple reason that no one else gets to use that name now, unless they give that name to their child or pet. "This is my daughter, Jennifer Gattaca Jones, and my little dog, Gattaca. We call him Fatty Gatty for short."

*Click on the title of this blog if you would like a more thorough synopsis of "Gattaca" as a movie.