i’m just a guy….(Extended “So You Can Dance To It” Mix)

“ya’ see,…” i begin my rant, fueled by one too many of the neon blue concoctions known as saba island teas, post no doubt set-up, and post all-day SA excursion (more on that in a bit), “some white boys, no matter HOW old (he looked to be in his 50’s), just need a beer bottle to the back of their skulls after beer number three; THAT must be what the sign was about at the door…”

the place is hut’s hamburgers. on 6th street. the sign in question is the one at the door that talks about the house reserving the right to limit booze consumption to three drinks per person, and the IDIOT in question is some older “gentleman” who is sooooo ticked that the woman in his booth has just received a cell phone call that he’s trying in vain to get the rest of us within a three booth radius to join in on him screaming at the poor woman’s mother in the background of the conversation. fortunately, this was the closest to violence that happened all day OR all night.

a few things i learned yesterday…

1. austin and sa need to take on valuable lesson to heart. maybe, JUST maybe, highway construction projects could get done in less time than it took the ancient egyptians to build the pyramids if you’d concentrate on one major project at a time. i think the ben white/i35 intersection in austin (and the 410/i10 one in SA) have been under construction since i was in high school, and i graduated in 1995. from COLLEGE.

2. if you really, TRULY want to have superb scenery at a show, guys, go to one that normally you wouldn’t be caught dead at, but your girlfriend would want you to take her to. i don’t know if things were different in my world if i would have been stag or not last night at the no doubt show, but good LORD there was more single, gorgeous women in that one room than i think i’ve ever seen. and this kicks off the blonde “triple threat”, with p!nk being sunday, and a freshly bleached shirley manson and the rest of the garbage crew being the following sunday; with the not-so-blonde, not-so-cheerful, alanis morrisette thrown in across town about mid-way through for good measure. me thinks me will have to wander into ALL of them…

3. i just don’t get the whole “beer” thing. while i’m no stranger to the malted beverage (i had my first beer when i was less than two…and then about a year later, my dad was trying to teach me how to drink from a pilsner glass and when i tilted the glass away from my mouth, a little baby sip of beer was gone…along with a perfect crescent-shaped piece of GLASS. my mom and dad FREAKED, and tried to get me to spit, but i was afraid i would get in trouble for spitting out the beer. i locked my jaw (they were trying to force open my mouth) and swallowed. the both of them turned pasty until i smiled real big, opened my mouth, and spit out the glass still in one piece.) but this time, it was an ice cold shiner handed to me by the vp of my company. THAT, you don’t turn away (or spit out). but anybody who knows me KNOWS i don’t drink beer; but with bob standing RIGHT THERE i had to fake it. i made it through about 2/3rds, and passed the rest off to josh when bob walked off. i just don’t get how people can drink enough of that swill to get blitzed. give me liquor over that ANY day…

3. if you can merch it, they will sell….or so no doubt seems to hope. okay so a ball cap, a beanie, a sweatshirt, a baby doll, and a dozen t-shirt designs. cool. no prob. two kinds of posters, stickers, and some patches. okay, not TOO outlandish. rings, necklaces, satin jackets, skirts, belt buckles, bras, and MORE?!?!? what the HELL? i’ve never seen a concert merch set up that actually had mannequins until last night.

4. people need to learn to heed my advice. okay, may be not on EVERYTHING. but on concert stuff, it pays off. take young joshua, for example. i warned him (as i do everybody) NOT to park in the garage across from the music hall. did he listen? no. as a result, he called and told me when he was JUST getting out of the parking garage, and at that point i was less than five miles from my house. keep in mind that my house is 32.6 miles from the austin music hall. that poor, dumb, bastard…

two more quick notes..for all who realized that the ending to the “addressing your concerns” bit made NO sense, check it out now…some bad link text eliminated the last paragraph, but it’s feeling much better now; so re-read it if you would so you’ll see how it wraps up. and finally, kathi, don’t worry i WILL post a thing on here in response to your rather epicly-lengthed comment from yesterday. as far as “hooking a sista up”, keep in mind that 99% of my dozen or so readers are female, and the rest you already know personally or they have girlfriends. but rest assured, i’ve got a response for you…i haven’t heard of rodents being so mistreated since the last tale i heard from the disco known as josh’s living room; where there’s never a cover, the music’s thumping, the drinks are strong, and much to josh’s dismay, it’s never, ever, EVER lady’s night. but i digress…