I was skimming through my blogroll as I do many times when I check out my page to make sure things are running correctly, and I came across the latest post for a blog called "Happy Harper Stories". Its written by Jamie, who is a chick who goes to my church, Valleydale Church (an sbc fellowship, natch) and who I... well, let's be honest, we barely know each other. Ask Jamie, and I'm sure she's tell you the same thing. That, however, doesn't mean I don't enjoy her writings.
Now, sometimes she discusses things that don't really curry my interest, some kid stories, some mommy stories, things I can't relate to (yet--give it another 10 months or a year, and I'll be lapping those stories up with a "yep!" and a "that's me!" and a "wow, there now!" attitude) but many times her writing is comforting, fun and always with a twinge, if not a full on display, of the power and love of Jesus Christ.
So, being a stupid boy, naturally when I saw her latest post was entitled "Biblical Submission and Worship in the Bedroom", I had to click over.
Here is the first paragraph of her post...
Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Ephesians 5:21... I have these really great Christian women friends who I get to see once every 3 or 4 months. They are godly women who sharpen me in my spiritual walk. Every time I see them, they make me want to go home and have sex with my husband, so I am sure he loves them. Sound odd? Let me explain.
Her post is about being a Christ Follower and...
(looking around)
(looking around still)
(no one is listening)
...being a Christ Follower and having sex...
SHHH!!!! Don't say that out loud! Did you hear me? No? Okay, I said... being a Christ Follower and having sex. I know, scandalous! Don't you know that Song of Solomon doesn't really exist in the Bible according to some congregations!?
Actually... it does exist. I would invite you to read the rest of her post, which you can go to here (but please, do come back, I'm not done with you yet), which discusses the joy of such marital fruit that He has given to us.
And it made think about something I wrote on October 31st, 2001 (I was married in 2004, so this predates that)... before you read, understand something--this is not a judgemental piece. I mean to point no fingers, nor lay guilt on anyone, myself included, for toes that might be stepped on... its just a little slice of God's love and His purpose.
Anyway, out of the vault of Dave's Encouragement...
"Sex, Love, God and Gifts"
In our Life Connection--Sunday school as it was called for 25 of my 26 years--class at Valleydale Baptist, we've been studying Song of Solomon. The first several weeks this summer were all about dating and courtship, something I will never master, to be honest with you. We took a break in August and September, and started back a few weeks ago in the midst of Solomon and his wife's marriage. We've looked at keeping marriage fresh, the "art" of dealing with conflicts and lately, the "art" of romance--or dating your wife. Okay, we've talked about sex.
Its so strange that we've grown up in a world that has taught us that sex is such an easy thing to do and a casual thing to take part in. Why? Because it’s treated so lightly... Ross and Rachel on Friends had "casual sex" months ago, and now they are having a baby... and though I think the show is hilarious--btw, I'm dealing with that--the whole situation is being treated as a punch line. Instead of seeing this as a degradation of God's gift, we laugh, because the world tells us, "Hey, if you are going to do it, then you might mess up a little."
Somehow, we keep forgetting that God says, "Hey, if your gonna do it, be married."
God created sex. It’s not something that Cinemax created for their late night episodes of Passion Cove, or something Hollywood came up with so they could make Showgirls. God made it. God made it for love. God made a him and a her, and instilled in said him and her a passion and love for each other so deep that they would consummate--sex--and make him and her a "them". Make sense?
Of course, we know sex shouldn't be a byproduct of a date or a night of wanderlust, but a result of marriage and love. Which is the plot line of the latter chapters of Song of Solomon. The entire book is merely a dozen pages or so long, but it far outweighs the world's idea that love is dead, that love is weak, that love is something we generate. We are weak. We are spiritually dead until we meet the source of Love... God. God is Love.
If we say that I am part Hispanic, then it stands to reason that I look it. If we say that Jennifer Pritchett is petite, then by common sense, she should look the part. So, if we say that God is Love, God would look as such... do you follow me?
So what does Love... or God... look like?
As we read Song of Solomon on Sunday, something came to my mind that I read from Rich Mullins. Every word of the Bible is God-breathed, which means He loved us enough to include the poem of Solomon and the details of what God intends in a relationship. But does God just give us the gift of sex in a marriage and then sit back, turning his eyes when we enjoy it? Laura DeGarmo can sing her head off, so when she lifts praises in song, I picture God smiling. Rebecca Glassco glorifies God on stage, Drew Morris with a guitar, Meredith Quintana with her writings... when Becca acts, Drew plays or Merdi writes, I picture God smiling. What about when two godly people are consummating a marriage? Does God smile? Feeling a little edgy reading this? Ha!
Could it be that God "feels"? Maybe God is capable of the same sort of passion. Could God be excited or must He be that reverent picture of a large bearded man on a huge throne? Are we comfortable with the image of God as Father and nervous about God as a Lover? Personally, I think of God as a Parent, which is less personality and more role playing than anything. Are we happy to have God as our Creator, but get a little weirded out as being Creative? God is a great Engineer, but what about an Artist? Being Sovereign comforts us, but I think sometimes being a Poet makes us tense. Do we enjoy the glow of God's light but hide ourselves from the heat of His flames?
Does the idea that Jesus tolerated the sinful woman's anointing of His feet, but enjoyed John resting his head on Jesus' chest make us squirm? Rich Mullins laughingly said "How is it we can accept that Moses saw a bush on fire and was not consumed, but we doubt that God can love in a rage and never cool?"
For those of you out of the Song of Solomon class, read the book when you can. For those of you in the class, pay more attention to the love that God has provided Solomon and his lover to share with each other. Either way, try to take a look at God as a Lover of our souls, not just a provider of our needs.
Enjoying the Lover of My Soul...
Showing posts with label Drew Morris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drew Morris. Show all posts
A Movie for Grown Ups
For anyone who knew me in The Deuce days, watching "Grown Ups" this past weekend made me think of one thing... this movie is what Deuce: The Movie would be if Deuce: The Movie was in fact a movie.
Adam Sandler's films have evolved over the years, starting out a little hokey (remember "Airheads"? Yeesh...) turning into borderline brilliant silliness and hilarity (I love love love "Happy Gilmore" and "The Waterboy", and know a inordinate amount of people who worship "Billy Madison"), before trying to get into more adult fare with little success--"Eight Crazy Nights", "Punch Drunk Love", "Spanglish" and "Funny People" were anywhere from mediocre to downright bad.
However, Sandler can still be funny. And when you throw in the likes of David Spade (who, let's face it, hasn't had a truly funny movie since the Farley days), Chris Rock (hasn't truly been funny in a real movie since "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back"), Rob Schneider (aside from the random funny cameos in most Sandler movies, he was last seen being funny in... in... well, The Lovely Steph Leann liked 'The Hot Chick"--a movie that I dug not for Schneider, but for Anna Faris and Rachel McAdams) and Kevin James (who was truly charming in "Paul Blart", was the funniest part of "Chuck & Larry" and truly held his own with Will Smith in "Hitch"), you have got the potential to have a pretty funny movie. And for the most part, "Grown Ups" delivers what you would expect.
Its a movie that features a group of guys who were friends back in the day, all playing on a middle school (back then it was "junior high") basketball team that won the championship... they grow up and lose touch, but are all called back together when their coach passes away. They end up spending the 4th of July long weekend together, with Sandler playing Lenny, a successful Hollywood agent, married to Roxanne (Salma Hayek) with three completely spoiled brat kids. Kevin James is Eric, married to Sally (an incredibly good looking Maria Bello) with a couple of problem kids of their own, including a 48 month old son who still likes to nurse... from mom. Yes, that's 4 years old.
Rob Schneider is Rob, and marries a woman 30 years his elder, which makes for a running gag that eventually gets tiresome, while David Spade is Marcus, a player who never got married and still chases women. Finally, Chris Rock isToken homemaker Kurt, married to the bacon-bringer-homer and very pregnant Deanne (Maya Rudolph), with a few kids of their own.
What follows in the course of the hour and forty five is a series of vignette-like scenes that carry the group through the weekend as they catch up, learn about family and friendship and say lots of innuendos and poopy farty jokes along the way. You know, its five guys. They do run into the grown up versions of the kids they beat on the championship team back in the day, allowing for fellow SNL alums Colin Quinn and Tim Meadows to make appearances, as well as Steve Buscemi, who looks like he's playing his squirrely bug-eyed look to the hilt.
Some jokes are funny, some fall flat, but you just have to be into this kind of a buddy-reunion movie to enjoy a film like this. Having lived with three other guys who paid rent and like, seven other guys that didn't, all at the same time, I could relate to this film in terms of how people change, the direction that life takes for some... though I cannot fathom being that close to your homeboys, and then having no contact with them for 30 years. That's just... well, maybe I'm being idealistic, but that's almost unreasonable.
The language is fair, not too bad, and with the exception of Maria Bello's booby coming out for a nursing scene (without showing anything, by the way) there's nothing really bad in this film.
Don't expect to see "Billy Madison" all over again... if you can wait until the Ghetto Theater for a Buck, do so. If you just have to see it now, take a matinee, otherwise catch it on a rental in probably September or October.
By the way... the soundtrack is absolutely fantastic... REO Speedwagon... J Geils... Journey (something other than "Don't Stop Believin'", for once)... Jefferson Starship... The Kinks... Eddie Money's "Two Tickets to Paradise", one of my 100 favorite songs of all time... and Bob Welch's "Sentimental Lady", which Chris Rock's character declares to be, somewhat correctly, "the whitest song in history"... oh, and one more song that's in the movie, but not on the soundtrack...
That's Bob Seger's "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". Bob Seger, what the crap, yo? First, let's be honest, you rock. "Shakedown" from "Beverly Hills Cop II", rocks. "Hollywood Nights" rocks. "Still the Same", "Turn the Page", "We Got Tonight"... they all rock. And so does this awesome song called "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". And you can't find it on iTunes.
If you are Garth Brooks or The Beatles, who have catalogs that are both infamous for not being available, then I can understand. Why sell on iTunes, you got a bajillion dollars anyway. But Bob Seger? Seriously, dude. Open up that catalog. I don't want "Greatest Hits Volume 2", I want that one song.
Adam Sandler's films have evolved over the years, starting out a little hokey (remember "Airheads"? Yeesh...) turning into borderline brilliant silliness and hilarity (I love love love "Happy Gilmore" and "The Waterboy", and know a inordinate amount of people who worship "Billy Madison"), before trying to get into more adult fare with little success--"Eight Crazy Nights", "Punch Drunk Love", "Spanglish" and "Funny People" were anywhere from mediocre to downright bad.
However, Sandler can still be funny. And when you throw in the likes of David Spade (who, let's face it, hasn't had a truly funny movie since the Farley days), Chris Rock (hasn't truly been funny in a real movie since "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back"), Rob Schneider (aside from the random funny cameos in most Sandler movies, he was last seen being funny in... in... well, The Lovely Steph Leann liked 'The Hot Chick"--a movie that I dug not for Schneider, but for Anna Faris and Rachel McAdams) and Kevin James (who was truly charming in "Paul Blart", was the funniest part of "Chuck & Larry" and truly held his own with Will Smith in "Hitch"), you have got the potential to have a pretty funny movie. And for the most part, "Grown Ups" delivers what you would expect.
Its a movie that features a group of guys who were friends back in the day, all playing on a middle school (back then it was "junior high") basketball team that won the championship... they grow up and lose touch, but are all called back together when their coach passes away. They end up spending the 4th of July long weekend together, with Sandler playing Lenny, a successful Hollywood agent, married to Roxanne (Salma Hayek) with three completely spoiled brat kids. Kevin James is Eric, married to Sally (an incredibly good looking Maria Bello) with a couple of problem kids of their own, including a 48 month old son who still likes to nurse... from mom. Yes, that's 4 years old.
Rob Schneider is Rob, and marries a woman 30 years his elder, which makes for a running gag that eventually gets tiresome, while David Spade is Marcus, a player who never got married and still chases women. Finally, Chris Rock is
What follows in the course of the hour and forty five is a series of vignette-like scenes that carry the group through the weekend as they catch up, learn about family and friendship and say lots of innuendos and poopy farty jokes along the way. You know, its five guys. They do run into the grown up versions of the kids they beat on the championship team back in the day, allowing for fellow SNL alums Colin Quinn and Tim Meadows to make appearances, as well as Steve Buscemi, who looks like he's playing his squirrely bug-eyed look to the hilt.
Some jokes are funny, some fall flat, but you just have to be into this kind of a buddy-reunion movie to enjoy a film like this. Having lived with three other guys who paid rent and like, seven other guys that didn't, all at the same time, I could relate to this film in terms of how people change, the direction that life takes for some... though I cannot fathom being that close to your homeboys, and then having no contact with them for 30 years. That's just... well, maybe I'm being idealistic, but that's almost unreasonable.
I almost feel like this could be Shawn, Big Tom, Mikey, myself and Tommy Mac in a few years. Or Wookiee. Or Drewski. Or, if you are thinking Chris Rock, it could be The Hall--though I would think if we reunited for a coach's death, it would be for The Hall's funeral. Then again, I don't fish... Just sayin'.
The language is fair, not too bad, and with the exception of Maria Bello's booby coming out for a nursing scene (without showing anything, by the way) there's nothing really bad in this film.
Don't expect to see "Billy Madison" all over again... if you can wait until the Ghetto Theater for a Buck, do so. If you just have to see it now, take a matinee, otherwise catch it on a rental in probably September or October.
By the way... the soundtrack is absolutely fantastic... REO Speedwagon... J Geils... Journey (something other than "Don't Stop Believin'", for once)... Jefferson Starship... The Kinks... Eddie Money's "Two Tickets to Paradise", one of my 100 favorite songs of all time... and Bob Welch's "Sentimental Lady", which Chris Rock's character declares to be, somewhat correctly, "the whitest song in history"... oh, and one more song that's in the movie, but not on the soundtrack...
That's Bob Seger's "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". Bob Seger, what the crap, yo? First, let's be honest, you rock. "Shakedown" from "Beverly Hills Cop II", rocks. "Hollywood Nights" rocks. "Still the Same", "Turn the Page", "We Got Tonight"... they all rock. And so does this awesome song called "Rock and Roll Never Forgets". And you can't find it on iTunes.
If you are Garth Brooks or The Beatles, who have catalogs that are both infamous for not being available, then I can understand. Why sell on iTunes, you got a bajillion dollars anyway. But Bob Seger? Seriously, dude. Open up that catalog. I don't want "Greatest Hits Volume 2", I want that one song.
The Prayer of Chantal
Another entry into d$'s Random Emails of Encouragement Series...
This morning at KidStuf, my character (Marshall) was learning how to say "Merry Christmas" in different languages... this included Milad Majid (Arabic). Feliz Navidad (Argentine). God Jul (Norwegian). Bo Nada (Galician). Sretan Bozic (Croatian)... and it made me think about God's love, and how it translates to all languages... which made me think about this, written on June 11th, 2002. Chantal is gone, I haven’t heard nary a word from her since she left for Pretoria, South Africa, a few years back. That makes me sad, because her accent… whew.
The Prayer of Chantal
It never sunk in how much I Americanized my God until last night.
Chantal Els is an au pair (fancy word for Nanny) from Pretoria, South Africa. She's been in this country since last summer, and though I haven't spent as much time with her as I would have liked to, I've gotten to talk to her a lot in the last 12 months. For that, I'm thankful. She's 20, maybe 21, short blond hair, big smile, and of course, an accent that can make you swoon. And her love of Christ and how much it’s grown in the last year is so evident... this isn't an email to glorify Chantal, though, this is an email to glorify God in what He's doing in her. Meeting her back then and talking to her now, there is a huge difference.
Many, many months ago, Chantal and I were having a conversation about prayer, and she mentioned how she really wanted to pray in her language, which is Afrikaan. I asked her why she hadn't done it, and she said she didn't know how anyone would feel about it. I told her I thought the group would be totally receptive, plus, she wasn't speaking to us anyway, so what did it matter what we thought? God would know.
So, last night at Sybil's, during prayer, I hear Amy Vos pray... and Sarah Hasha pray... and Drew Morris pray... and out of nowhere, is this accented voice in the back. And she's saying things that I would have no idea how to even repeat, much less understand. It was Chantal, praying in her native language. Apparently, she prayed for friends, because I managed to pick out "Josh", "James", "Meredith" and "Jimmy", with dialect in between. I didn't understand a word of it. But it hit me... God did. And He loved every word.
Then I began to think about how Americanized my God is to me. My God knows English. My God lives here in town. My God knows words like "y'all", "Coke", "possum", "sweet tea" and "Peachtree Street". At least He'd better know them... I've used all of these terms in conversation, sometimes in prayer. Though it seems like common sense, really, I never thought about the fact that my God also knows French. And Filipino Sign Language. And Bengali. And Sanskrit. And Portuguese. And Russian. And Zulu. And, of course, Afrikaan.
Even more than that... He SPEAKS these languages. He's not flipping through an "English to Whatever Language" dictionary to reveal Himself to people around the world... He's not speaking extra slow so that kid in Nigeria who barely knows English will understand Him. He is powerful enough to hear and speak the words of His children, from all races, from all countries. Heck, American English isn't even the original language of the Bible, and yet sometimes in my small mind, all I know is a Savior who speaks only southern dialect. Thank God He's bigger than that.
You and I hear God saying, "I love you".
The French hear God saying, "Je t'aime".
The Saudis hear God saying, “I love you”
The Icelanders hear God saying, "Eg elskta thig."
The Navaho hear God saying, "Ayor anosh'ni"
The Welsh hear God saying, "Rwy'n dy garu di."
The Malaysian hear God saying, "Saya cintamu".
And Chantal hears God saying, "Ek's lief vir jou."
Afterwards, Chantal and I sat and talked on the Common Ground couch, and she told me she'd been wanting to pray out loud like that for so long, but she never could... but finally, the words just came. Not only did God understand what she was saying, He was longing for her to say it to Him! He was urging her to speak, to call out to Him, until finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore, and not only was God pleased as His daughter spoke to Him in love, the rest of the room was totally encouraged and blessed.
Anyway, this whole email is just to remind you of how big our God is... how awesome He is... and how much He understands that we never will. Thank you God for a friend like Chantal, and using her to remind me of your wisdom over everything, every language, every voice. The next time you think God does not understand you, know that He not only understands what you are saying, He understands what everyone is saying.
Romeine 3:23... Almal het gesondig en is ver van God af kyk na uself aanmoedig,
ps... I used an English/Afrikaan translator, so there is no need to email me back and tell me how I goofed up in spelling and writing. =)
This morning at KidStuf, my character (Marshall) was learning how to say "Merry Christmas" in different languages... this included Milad Majid (Arabic). Feliz Navidad (Argentine). God Jul (Norwegian). Bo Nada (Galician). Sretan Bozic (Croatian)... and it made me think about God's love, and how it translates to all languages... which made me think about this, written on June 11th, 2002. Chantal is gone, I haven’t heard nary a word from her since she left for Pretoria, South Africa, a few years back. That makes me sad, because her accent… whew.
The Prayer of Chantal
It never sunk in how much I Americanized my God until last night.
Chantal Els is an au pair (fancy word for Nanny) from Pretoria, South Africa. She's been in this country since last summer, and though I haven't spent as much time with her as I would have liked to, I've gotten to talk to her a lot in the last 12 months. For that, I'm thankful. She's 20, maybe 21, short blond hair, big smile, and of course, an accent that can make you swoon. And her love of Christ and how much it’s grown in the last year is so evident... this isn't an email to glorify Chantal, though, this is an email to glorify God in what He's doing in her. Meeting her back then and talking to her now, there is a huge difference.
Many, many months ago, Chantal and I were having a conversation about prayer, and she mentioned how she really wanted to pray in her language, which is Afrikaan. I asked her why she hadn't done it, and she said she didn't know how anyone would feel about it. I told her I thought the group would be totally receptive, plus, she wasn't speaking to us anyway, so what did it matter what we thought? God would know.
Then I began to think about how Americanized my God is to me. My God knows English. My God lives here in town. My God knows words like "y'all", "Coke", "possum", "sweet tea" and "Peachtree Street". At least He'd better know them... I've used all of these terms in conversation, sometimes in prayer. Though it seems like common sense, really, I never thought about the fact that my God also knows French. And Filipino Sign Language. And Bengali. And Sanskrit. And Portuguese. And Russian. And Zulu. And, of course, Afrikaan.
Even more than that... He SPEAKS these languages. He's not flipping through an "English to Whatever Language" dictionary to reveal Himself to people around the world... He's not speaking extra slow so that kid in Nigeria who barely knows English will understand Him. He is powerful enough to hear and speak the words of His children, from all races, from all countries. Heck, American English isn't even the original language of the Bible, and yet sometimes in my small mind, all I know is a Savior who speaks only southern dialect. Thank God He's bigger than that.
You and I hear God saying, "I love you".
The French hear God saying, "Je t'aime".
The Saudis hear God saying, “I love you”
The Icelanders hear God saying, "Eg elskta thig."
The Navaho hear God saying, "Ayor anosh'ni"
The Welsh hear God saying, "Rwy'n dy garu di."
The Malaysian hear God saying, "Saya cintamu".
And Chantal hears God saying, "Ek's lief vir jou."
Afterwards, Chantal and I sat and talked on the Common Ground couch, and she told me she'd been wanting to pray out loud like that for so long, but she never could... but finally, the words just came. Not only did God understand what she was saying, He was longing for her to say it to Him! He was urging her to speak, to call out to Him, until finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore, and not only was God pleased as His daughter spoke to Him in love, the rest of the room was totally encouraged and blessed.
Anyway, this whole email is just to remind you of how big our God is... how awesome He is... and how much He understands that we never will. Thank you God for a friend like Chantal, and using her to remind me of your wisdom over everything, every language, every voice. The next time you think God does not understand you, know that He not only understands what you are saying, He understands what everyone is saying.
Romeine 3:23... Almal het gesondig en is ver van God af kyk na uself aanmoedig,
ps... I used an English/Afrikaan translator, so there is no need to email me back and tell me how I goofed up in spelling and writing. =)
Idol Styx It to Rock (now with results!)
RESULTS...
Here's the opening... we see glimpses and flashes of the remaining Idol contestants, they each tell us how ready they are to rock, how ready they are to win this whole thing, we see the judges comment here and there on various things, and Seacrest comes out to tell us that around 87,980,000,003 people voted last night, right after asking, "Who will graduate from the school of rock... and who will just get schooled?"
This, of course, is American Idol.
Tonight, No Doubt performs, as does Daughtry, as does Paula the Flake, so there's a good chance we might see some or all of the performances, but definately not the group song, and no chance on the Ford Commercial.
Randy the Dawg, Kara the New Hotness, looking especially New Hotnessed, Paula the Flake and Simon the Cowell all wave to the audience.
While I was working at The Happiest Place in the Mall, somewhere around 7:12pm, I heard a scream and a hoot from somewhere in the distance. It makes sense now. I heard Drew Morris when Slash came on stage to perform for the group song, which I skip past.
It speaks to how big this show has become... do you think Slash comes on to Idol back in Season One or Season Two? Heck no. No credibility. But now... now that its watched by around 67 billion people worldwide, added to the fact that he has an album coming out, yeah, Slash is pretty quick to take up the invite to Idol.
Seacrest heads to the Idols sitting upon the Couch of Safety, killing time, bantering, discussing the first Zeppelin song ever to be sung on Idol, that by The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, plus giving more excuses and passes to The Widower Danny Gokey after his crazy screaming note at the end of the song last night. The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen... "We didn't like what you did with the song, even though you sounded good, but you sounded pitchy and so on...." but to The Widower Danny Gokey, "It's okay, its alright, we know you can do better, shh, its going to be just fine..."
And now, here comes Paula the Flake...
Here is what I want to hear from Paula the Flake...
"You're the whisper of a summer breeze..." OR
"Lost.... in a dream... don't know which... way to go..." OR
"You're a cold hearted snake (look into his eyes) Oh oh, he's been telling lies..." OR
"I got that Vibeology, that V-I-B-E-ology..." OR
"Hey baby... you got to remember... I'm forever your girl..." OR even
"Eagles calling, calling your name..." but what I really don't want to hear is this.
She's dressed up in an outfit that would have been perfect for her in 1991, when she was brand spankin' new on the scene... but perhaps not now. Its also important to note, that Paula, now what, 45? is not moving nearly as fast as she did back in 1991.
For those of you kiddies who just don't understand, who only know Paula Abdul as a flake and a joke and the Idol judge, let me tell you a story... back in the early 90s, she and Janet Jackson were the two best chick dancers alive. Their videos were unbelievable demonstrations of movement and rhythm, their music was fun, their albums were great, and both--especially Paula--were beautiful. What you know now as the blithering, blubbering, drooling pain killer induced Paula Abdul is nothing compared to how... well, for lack of a better word, how cool she used to be.
I give you the title track to her most excellent first CD, "Forever Your Girl". This is how awesome she used to be. Oh, and disregard that "MTV" in the corner of the video. This is back when they actually played a music video. You know, ever.
This song, the one she's doing, "I'm Just Here For the Music" is annoying. And I'm going to go on a very short limb and say that the song I just saw was prerecorded, because before the song, she was in a cutesy little beige dress, then she came out in the aforementioned too-skimpy-for-her-age costume, and now that the commercials are over, she's back in the beige dress.
But now... here's someone I can watch. Gwen Stefani, with No Doubt, doing their first big hit, "Just a Girl". As she sings, though, two things occur to me. First, she's so goofy, and weird, and yet, she's still hot. I mean, not too many chicks can do what she does, dress like she dresses and appear like she appears many times and still can be considered hot, but she pulls it off. Secondly, dear goodness she sounds terrible... absolutely terrible... she hasn't held any single note for longer than two seconds... its almost like she can't. I can't handle it. I fast forward. This song is definately not B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
Old joke that I've told before, but will tell again because I have a new audience that may or may not have heard it... So, Gwen Stefani is married to Gavin Rossdale, lead of one of the hardest rockin' bands of the 90s, singer of such awesome rock classics like "Machinehead" and "Everything Zen"... obviously, he and his wife sing two different styles of music. Do you think he just sucks it up, and tells Gwen whatever she writes is good, even though he knows that he'd never, ever be associated with some of it otherwise? Like, I imagine this exchange...
Gwen: Hey, babe, come in here
Gavin: Yes, dear? Whats up?
Gwen: So I've written this awesome new song, and I want to read you the lyrics to this last part that I think is soooo awesome
Gavin: Sure babe, whats the title?
Gwen: Oh, its called "Hollaback Girl"
Gavin: (pausing) Holla... back... girl?
Gwen: Yeah, check this out... "Its bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. This s&^% is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S". See, I say "bananas", then I spell it! Isnt that awesome!?
Gavin: (pausing, speaking slowly) Yeah, thats... thats great, Gwenie... I, uh... I love it. I mean, Bananas. Thats... thats wonderful. So, uh... so cool and all
Gwen: So I was thinking, I had written a song for your new Bush album and...
Gavin: Uh, gotta go. Game's on.
Back to the show. The four Idols are standing backstage, awaiting Seacrest to call their name. He points to The Silver Stools... not of failure, but of Safety. There are only three. The Idols come out, and Seacrest says he'll announce them in random order.
My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is first. Then The Widower Danny Gokey. Then The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert. Finally, The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen. One goes to The Silver Stools of Safety... and The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen gets the nod... this is good. No, this is awesome. He almost collapses, looking speechless with a shocked grin on his face.
While I was at The Happiest Place in the Mall, I also heard a squeal of glee around 7:43, and that makes sense now. It was Erin the Marine Wife screaming as Daughtry comes onstage. Seriously, though... Chris Daughtry, perhaps the coolest Idol ever. He really is an awesome dude. They'll be singing their first single, "No Surprise", off of their sophomore album "Leave This Town", which drops in July. Why is it that music critics and newsmakers say "sophomore" album and not just "2nd" album? The former is six letters and four seconds longer than the latter... hmm.
Song sounds good. I'll ask Erin the Marine Wife how the CD is, because she'll get it the day it comes out, I'm sure. I like Daughtry, the guy and the band, cause it just seems like he recognizes how lucky he is, and he gives kudos to the fans and supporters all the time, remembering they are who makes him so famous... good guy.
Okay, back to the real stuff. Who will join The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen on the Silver Stools of Safety? The second person to head that way is... The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert.
Well, we know this is the end for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... how great would it have been to see her to go to the Silver Stools of Safety, leaving The Goke and The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert competing for one spot? Alas, its over for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... I take the title back from her, write her name under My Previous Next American Idol Brooke White, and put it aside, awaiting a titleholder in 2010.
As the "journey montage" for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta plays, I wonder if they've even edited one yet for Dead Wife Gokey or The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, figuring they have another two weeks to finish it.
_______________________________________________
PERFORMANCES...
I'm shocked. I'm stunned, and ashamed and taken aback in a way that I'm not sure I could have fathomed mere moments ago, before I sat down at the laptop in the recliner here at The Cabana Extended Suites and Resort Spa. I'm just... speechless. You could have told me Lance Bass was gay, you could have told me that MSNBC is pro-Obama, you could have told me that Miley Cyrus really was Hannah Montana... and I would have believed all of those things, those undeniably incomprehendable things that I've only recently discovered as true before I believed the following words...
Paula Abdul is addicted to painkillers.
Sigh. What hath God wrought upon this world?
THIS
IS AMERICAN
IDOL
Its rock week here at American Idol, with our guest mentor, Slash, from Velvet Revolver, but you know him really from... well, is it Guns'N Roses, or Guns N Roses, or Guns N'Roses? Where does the ' lie? These are the things I lay awake at night thinking about.
Seacrest is telling us, and showing us, the part of the stage tower, with the big neon "IDOL" on it that collapsed. This is all George Bush's fault. Its him and his stupid hurricane machine that has cost this country trillions of dollars, when he could have spent that money on our country's failing infrastructure! Seriously! What kind of third world country do we live in when American Idol's neon towers are falling down? What's next? The top level of Deal or No Deal's staircase bends and breaks? President B. Hussein Obama, I plea to you!
We see a montage of Slash, and somewhere, Drew Morris is drooling on himself, convulsing and french kissing his TV screen. Honestly, this has to be one of the coolest mentors ever... Slash, not Drew Morris, though I can imagine Drew Morris would be kind of fun too.
The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert is singing "Whole Lotta Love", and I imagine the number of screeches in a Led Zeppelin cover might be in the hundreds. Slash echoes The Lovely Steph Leann in saying that TAGAL is effortless and has such a range and so on and so forth.
Except for the fact he looks like a gay Hillary Swank from "Boys Don't Cry" (is that an oxymoron? or just redundant?) he sounds a whole lotta like Robert Plant. If I were Robert Plant, I'd call up Jimmy Page and ask him to kick me in the face for sounding like this.
Randy the Dawg loves him. Loves him. He might go gay for him. He tells The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert that he is in fact a rock star. He should be making a rock record. I can see Scott Weiland and Trent Reznor, in a heroin induced rage, beating the crap out of The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert backstage, actually. "Stupid alternative lifestyle guy bringing your alternative lifestyles into our rockin' party atmosphere!" or something like that.
Kara the New Hotness looks like she's stepped out of an Expose video. She tells him he should be making music with Nine Inch Nails. As Trent himself, watching--cause I'm sure he is--is probably saying, "Hailz to the No." Paula the Flake blubbers, and Simon the Cowell loves it too.
Can I be honest here? It sounded good. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself so much. I'm now going to put up a Nancy Pelosi poster and join the Sierra Club.
My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is taking on "Crybaby" from Janis Joplin. Slash tells her to be more confident, and bring it all out when she sings.
Here's what I dig about My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... I love the raspy voice thing. She reminds me kind of Sheryl Crow, and I loves me some Sheryl Crow. She's belting out the song, one that I'm not all that familiar with--honestly, my Joplin expertise begins and ends with "...freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose..." and so "Crybaby" is one I don't know well. I've heard it, just don't know it.
Either way, I think My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is awesome. Of course, she's not The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, so the judges won't love her nearly as much. Randy the Dawg didn't love the song, wanting more of a melody in the song. Kara the New Hotness loved the Joplin bluesy rock, but said she should have taken on "Piece of My Heart" (oh yeah, she did that before Faith Hill, didn't she?).
Paula the Flake blubbers. Simon the Cowell reminds her that she is still 17. He chides her for not being original, even though he loved The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert for singing EXACTLY like Page and Plant. Who sang the lead on "Whole Lotta Love" anyway? Was it Page? Was it Plant?
And now, we have our first duet of the evening, nay, of the entire show. A new little twist, with The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey doing a song together. And they are doing Styx's "Renegade". This song is FREAKIN' AWESOME...
(putting down the keyboard while I pay attention to this...)
(picking up the keyboard)
This song cracks me up... not The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Goke's version, I will get to that in a minute...
Back in the late 70s, early 80s, you had these soft pop rock bands... REO Speedwagon and Ambrosia and Firefall and Air Supply and the like, and they had one purpose and one purpose only... to sing songs that you related to your relationships. That was it.
Happy with the girl you have? "You Are the Woman" by Firefall, or "Still the One" by Orleans. Longing to tell someone how you felt about her? "Can't Fight This Feeling" by the Speedwagon. Need a completely overblown and silly, yet FREAKIN' AWESOME anthem song? "Makin' Love Out of Nothing At All" by Air Supply would do it. And Styx is in this catagory. Listen just once to "Lady" or "Babe" or "Come Sail Away" and you learn that Styx, in fact, does not rock. They soft rock.
So when I hear "Renegade", it makes me laugh. Its like when Lucas (a film in The Dave100, by the way) the band geek tries to play football and gets crushed... it is almost comical. And a song about a guy who has a bounty on his head and is about to be executed by hanging--"lawman is coming down from the gallows and I don't have very long"--is even better. Don't get me wrong, I love the song, its got several plays on my iPod, but its an unintentionally funny song.
Here's Daughtry doing his version of "Renegade"... Erin the Marine Wife might pass out.
And somehow, two guys who do not rock, who in fact, soft rock, like The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey singing this song somehow fits... Randy the Dawg liked it okay. He loved the harmonies, which were really good. Kara the New Hotness makes my point about these two guys singing this rock song. Paula the Flake blithers. Simon the Cowell has no idea what to say, telling them that The Goke was better than TLSLNAIK'Allen.
So now that The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen is winded from a duet with The Goke singing a crazy Styx power song, let's make him do his solo song! Meanwhile, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert sings first, and is backstage, taking a rest before his duet at the end of the show. Hmmm...
The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen is doing The Beatles' "Come Together", a song either awesomely, or awfully, remade by Michael Jackson, I'm not sure which. It sounds great, not fanastic, but great.
Randy the Dawg appreciated the song, while Kara the New Hotness said he is the softer side of rock, and wasn't great tonight. Paula the Flake drools. Simon the Cowell didn't like it.
That scream I just heard from all parts of Birmingham was a collective squeal from Emmy Turnbow, Cindy Jo Warner, Stacy "Wife of the 13th Disciple" Mintz and a few other moms around town because The Widower Danny Gokey just appeared onscreen again.
The Goke is doing "Dream On", a classic from Aerosmith. Still sounding like Tommy Shaw from Styx, trying to rock out, The Goke does his thing. And not to let The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert have all the screechy fun, The Widower Danny Gokey does his own end-of-song screech. And the whole song is not all that great.
Randy the Dawg didn't like the song that much, but gives him an A for Effort. Kara the New Hotness tells him that he sounded too over the top. Paula the Flake quivers. Simon the Cowell hated that last note, admitting what everyone things... "With [The Ambiguously Gay] Adam Lambert, it worked. With you, Dead Wife, it didn't."
A crashing of two worlds occurs now, as The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert and My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta come together. Right now. Over me.
"Slow Ride" by Foghat is the song that will be rocked and screeched. When I hear this song, I automatically think of "Dazed and Confused", another The Dave100 movie. The song comes to an end, and now we'll hear the judges rant and rave and fall all over themselves for The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, and just by being close, they might even give My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta a compliment.
Randy the Dawg loves it. Kara the New Hotness loves it. Paula the Flake blabbers. Simon the Cowell tells them they win the Duet Battle. The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert hugs My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta, and he thinks, "So this is what a woman feels like? Eew. I don't like it. As if."
Tonight... My Next American Idol Allison Ireaheta, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey...
Here's the opening... we see glimpses and flashes of the remaining Idol contestants, they each tell us how ready they are to rock, how ready they are to win this whole thing, we see the judges comment here and there on various things, and Seacrest comes out to tell us that around 87,980,000,003 people voted last night, right after asking, "Who will graduate from the school of rock... and who will just get schooled?"
This, of course, is American Idol.
Tonight, No Doubt performs, as does Daughtry, as does Paula the Flake, so there's a good chance we might see some or all of the performances, but definately not the group song, and no chance on the Ford Commercial.
Randy the Dawg, Kara the New Hotness, looking especially New Hotnessed, Paula the Flake and Simon the Cowell all wave to the audience.
While I was working at The Happiest Place in the Mall, somewhere around 7:12pm, I heard a scream and a hoot from somewhere in the distance. It makes sense now. I heard Drew Morris when Slash came on stage to perform for the group song, which I skip past.
It speaks to how big this show has become... do you think Slash comes on to Idol back in Season One or Season Two? Heck no. No credibility. But now... now that its watched by around 67 billion people worldwide, added to the fact that he has an album coming out, yeah, Slash is pretty quick to take up the invite to Idol.
Seacrest heads to the Idols sitting upon the Couch of Safety, killing time, bantering, discussing the first Zeppelin song ever to be sung on Idol, that by The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, plus giving more excuses and passes to The Widower Danny Gokey after his crazy screaming note at the end of the song last night. The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen... "We didn't like what you did with the song, even though you sounded good, but you sounded pitchy and so on...." but to The Widower Danny Gokey, "It's okay, its alright, we know you can do better, shh, its going to be just fine..."
And now, here comes Paula the Flake...
Here is what I want to hear from Paula the Flake...
"You're the whisper of a summer breeze..." OR
"Lost.... in a dream... don't know which... way to go..." OR
"You're a cold hearted snake (look into his eyes) Oh oh, he's been telling lies..." OR
"I got that Vibeology, that V-I-B-E-ology..." OR
"Hey baby... you got to remember... I'm forever your girl..." OR even
"Eagles calling, calling your name..." but what I really don't want to hear is this.
She's dressed up in an outfit that would have been perfect for her in 1991, when she was brand spankin' new on the scene... but perhaps not now. Its also important to note, that Paula, now what, 45? is not moving nearly as fast as she did back in 1991.
For those of you kiddies who just don't understand, who only know Paula Abdul as a flake and a joke and the Idol judge, let me tell you a story... back in the early 90s, she and Janet Jackson were the two best chick dancers alive. Their videos were unbelievable demonstrations of movement and rhythm, their music was fun, their albums were great, and both--especially Paula--were beautiful. What you know now as the blithering, blubbering, drooling pain killer induced Paula Abdul is nothing compared to how... well, for lack of a better word, how cool she used to be.
I give you the title track to her most excellent first CD, "Forever Your Girl". This is how awesome she used to be. Oh, and disregard that "MTV" in the corner of the video. This is back when they actually played a music video. You know, ever.
This song, the one she's doing, "I'm Just Here For the Music" is annoying. And I'm going to go on a very short limb and say that the song I just saw was prerecorded, because before the song, she was in a cutesy little beige dress, then she came out in the aforementioned too-skimpy-for-her-age costume, and now that the commercials are over, she's back in the beige dress.
But now... here's someone I can watch. Gwen Stefani, with No Doubt, doing their first big hit, "Just a Girl". As she sings, though, two things occur to me. First, she's so goofy, and weird, and yet, she's still hot. I mean, not too many chicks can do what she does, dress like she dresses and appear like she appears many times and still can be considered hot, but she pulls it off. Secondly, dear goodness she sounds terrible... absolutely terrible... she hasn't held any single note for longer than two seconds... its almost like she can't. I can't handle it. I fast forward. This song is definately not B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
Old joke that I've told before, but will tell again because I have a new audience that may or may not have heard it... So, Gwen Stefani is married to Gavin Rossdale, lead of one of the hardest rockin' bands of the 90s, singer of such awesome rock classics like "Machinehead" and "Everything Zen"... obviously, he and his wife sing two different styles of music. Do you think he just sucks it up, and tells Gwen whatever she writes is good, even though he knows that he'd never, ever be associated with some of it otherwise? Like, I imagine this exchange...
Gwen: Hey, babe, come in here
Gavin: Yes, dear? Whats up?
Gwen: So I've written this awesome new song, and I want to read you the lyrics to this last part that I think is soooo awesome
Gavin: Sure babe, whats the title?
Gwen: Oh, its called "Hollaback Girl"
Gavin: (pausing) Holla... back... girl?
Gwen: Yeah, check this out... "Its bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. This s&^% is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S". See, I say "bananas", then I spell it! Isnt that awesome!?
Gavin: (pausing, speaking slowly) Yeah, thats... thats great, Gwenie... I, uh... I love it. I mean, Bananas. Thats... thats wonderful. So, uh... so cool and all
Gwen: So I was thinking, I had written a song for your new Bush album and...
Gavin: Uh, gotta go. Game's on.
Back to the show. The four Idols are standing backstage, awaiting Seacrest to call their name. He points to The Silver Stools... not of failure, but of Safety. There are only three. The Idols come out, and Seacrest says he'll announce them in random order.
My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is first. Then The Widower Danny Gokey. Then The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert. Finally, The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen. One goes to The Silver Stools of Safety... and The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen gets the nod... this is good. No, this is awesome. He almost collapses, looking speechless with a shocked grin on his face.
While I was at The Happiest Place in the Mall, I also heard a squeal of glee around 7:43, and that makes sense now. It was Erin the Marine Wife screaming as Daughtry comes onstage. Seriously, though... Chris Daughtry, perhaps the coolest Idol ever. He really is an awesome dude. They'll be singing their first single, "No Surprise", off of their sophomore album "Leave This Town", which drops in July. Why is it that music critics and newsmakers say "sophomore" album and not just "2nd" album? The former is six letters and four seconds longer than the latter... hmm.
Song sounds good. I'll ask Erin the Marine Wife how the CD is, because she'll get it the day it comes out, I'm sure. I like Daughtry, the guy and the band, cause it just seems like he recognizes how lucky he is, and he gives kudos to the fans and supporters all the time, remembering they are who makes him so famous... good guy.
Okay, back to the real stuff. Who will join The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen on the Silver Stools of Safety? The second person to head that way is... The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert.
Well, we know this is the end for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... how great would it have been to see her to go to the Silver Stools of Safety, leaving The Goke and The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert competing for one spot? Alas, its over for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... I take the title back from her, write her name under My Previous Next American Idol Brooke White, and put it aside, awaiting a titleholder in 2010.
As the "journey montage" for My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta plays, I wonder if they've even edited one yet for Dead Wife Gokey or The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, figuring they have another two weeks to finish it.
_______________________________________________
PERFORMANCES...
I'm shocked. I'm stunned, and ashamed and taken aback in a way that I'm not sure I could have fathomed mere moments ago, before I sat down at the laptop in the recliner here at The Cabana Extended Suites and Resort Spa. I'm just... speechless. You could have told me Lance Bass was gay, you could have told me that MSNBC is pro-Obama, you could have told me that Miley Cyrus really was Hannah Montana... and I would have believed all of those things, those undeniably incomprehendable things that I've only recently discovered as true before I believed the following words...
Paula Abdul is addicted to painkillers.
Sigh. What hath God wrought upon this world?
THIS
IS AMERICAN
IDOL
Its rock week here at American Idol, with our guest mentor, Slash, from Velvet Revolver, but you know him really from... well, is it Guns'N Roses, or Guns N Roses, or Guns N'Roses? Where does the ' lie? These are the things I lay awake at night thinking about.
Seacrest is telling us, and showing us, the part of the stage tower, with the big neon "IDOL" on it that collapsed. This is all George Bush's fault. Its him and his stupid hurricane machine that has cost this country trillions of dollars, when he could have spent that money on our country's failing infrastructure! Seriously! What kind of third world country do we live in when American Idol's neon towers are falling down? What's next? The top level of Deal or No Deal's staircase bends and breaks? President B. Hussein Obama, I plea to you!
We see a montage of Slash, and somewhere, Drew Morris is drooling on himself, convulsing and french kissing his TV screen. Honestly, this has to be one of the coolest mentors ever... Slash, not Drew Morris, though I can imagine Drew Morris would be kind of fun too.
The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert is singing "Whole Lotta Love", and I imagine the number of screeches in a Led Zeppelin cover might be in the hundreds. Slash echoes The Lovely Steph Leann in saying that TAGAL is effortless and has such a range and so on and so forth.
Except for the fact he looks like a gay Hillary Swank from "Boys Don't Cry" (is that an oxymoron? or just redundant?) he sounds a whole lotta like Robert Plant. If I were Robert Plant, I'd call up Jimmy Page and ask him to kick me in the face for sounding like this.
Randy the Dawg loves him. Loves him. He might go gay for him. He tells The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert that he is in fact a rock star. He should be making a rock record. I can see Scott Weiland and Trent Reznor, in a heroin induced rage, beating the crap out of The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert backstage, actually. "Stupid alternative lifestyle guy bringing your alternative lifestyles into our rockin' party atmosphere!" or something like that.
Kara the New Hotness looks like she's stepped out of an Expose video. She tells him he should be making music with Nine Inch Nails. As Trent himself, watching--cause I'm sure he is--is probably saying, "Hailz to the No." Paula the Flake blubbers, and Simon the Cowell loves it too.
Can I be honest here? It sounded good. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself so much. I'm now going to put up a Nancy Pelosi poster and join the Sierra Club.
My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is taking on "Crybaby" from Janis Joplin. Slash tells her to be more confident, and bring it all out when she sings.
Here's what I dig about My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta... I love the raspy voice thing. She reminds me kind of Sheryl Crow, and I loves me some Sheryl Crow. She's belting out the song, one that I'm not all that familiar with--honestly, my Joplin expertise begins and ends with "...freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose..." and so "Crybaby" is one I don't know well. I've heard it, just don't know it.
Either way, I think My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta is awesome. Of course, she's not The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, so the judges won't love her nearly as much. Randy the Dawg didn't love the song, wanting more of a melody in the song. Kara the New Hotness loved the Joplin bluesy rock, but said she should have taken on "Piece of My Heart" (oh yeah, she did that before Faith Hill, didn't she?).
Paula the Flake blubbers. Simon the Cowell reminds her that she is still 17. He chides her for not being original, even though he loved The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert for singing EXACTLY like Page and Plant. Who sang the lead on "Whole Lotta Love" anyway? Was it Page? Was it Plant?
And now, we have our first duet of the evening, nay, of the entire show. A new little twist, with The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey doing a song together. And they are doing Styx's "Renegade". This song is FREAKIN' AWESOME...
(putting down the keyboard while I pay attention to this...)
(picking up the keyboard)
This song cracks me up... not The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Goke's version, I will get to that in a minute...
Back in the late 70s, early 80s, you had these soft pop rock bands... REO Speedwagon and Ambrosia and Firefall and Air Supply and the like, and they had one purpose and one purpose only... to sing songs that you related to your relationships. That was it.
Happy with the girl you have? "You Are the Woman" by Firefall, or "Still the One" by Orleans. Longing to tell someone how you felt about her? "Can't Fight This Feeling" by the Speedwagon. Need a completely overblown and silly, yet FREAKIN' AWESOME anthem song? "Makin' Love Out of Nothing At All" by Air Supply would do it. And Styx is in this catagory. Listen just once to "Lady" or "Babe" or "Come Sail Away" and you learn that Styx, in fact, does not rock. They soft rock.
So when I hear "Renegade", it makes me laugh. Its like when Lucas (a film in The Dave100, by the way) the band geek tries to play football and gets crushed... it is almost comical. And a song about a guy who has a bounty on his head and is about to be executed by hanging--"lawman is coming down from the gallows and I don't have very long"--is even better. Don't get me wrong, I love the song, its got several plays on my iPod, but its an unintentionally funny song.
Here's Daughtry doing his version of "Renegade"... Erin the Marine Wife might pass out.
And somehow, two guys who do not rock, who in fact, soft rock, like The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey singing this song somehow fits... Randy the Dawg liked it okay. He loved the harmonies, which were really good. Kara the New Hotness makes my point about these two guys singing this rock song. Paula the Flake blithers. Simon the Cowell has no idea what to say, telling them that The Goke was better than TLSLNAIK'Allen.
So now that The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen is winded from a duet with The Goke singing a crazy Styx power song, let's make him do his solo song! Meanwhile, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert sings first, and is backstage, taking a rest before his duet at the end of the show. Hmmm...
The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen is doing The Beatles' "Come Together", a song either awesomely, or awfully, remade by Michael Jackson, I'm not sure which. It sounds great, not fanastic, but great.
Randy the Dawg appreciated the song, while Kara the New Hotness said he is the softer side of rock, and wasn't great tonight. Paula the Flake drools. Simon the Cowell didn't like it.
That scream I just heard from all parts of Birmingham was a collective squeal from Emmy Turnbow, Cindy Jo Warner, Stacy "Wife of the 13th Disciple" Mintz and a few other moms around town because The Widower Danny Gokey just appeared onscreen again.
The Goke is doing "Dream On", a classic from Aerosmith. Still sounding like Tommy Shaw from Styx, trying to rock out, The Goke does his thing. And not to let The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert have all the screechy fun, The Widower Danny Gokey does his own end-of-song screech. And the whole song is not all that great.
Randy the Dawg didn't like the song that much, but gives him an A for Effort. Kara the New Hotness tells him that he sounded too over the top. Paula the Flake quivers. Simon the Cowell hated that last note, admitting what everyone things... "With [The Ambiguously Gay] Adam Lambert, it worked. With you, Dead Wife, it didn't."
A crashing of two worlds occurs now, as The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert and My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta come together. Right now. Over me.
"Slow Ride" by Foghat is the song that will be rocked and screeched. When I hear this song, I automatically think of "Dazed and Confused", another The Dave100 movie. The song comes to an end, and now we'll hear the judges rant and rave and fall all over themselves for The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, and just by being close, they might even give My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta a compliment.
Randy the Dawg loves it. Kara the New Hotness loves it. Paula the Flake blabbers. Simon the Cowell tells them they win the Duet Battle. The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert hugs My Next American Idol Allison Iraheta, and he thinks, "So this is what a woman feels like? Eew. I don't like it. As if."
Tonight... My Next American Idol Allison Ireaheta, The Ambiguously Gay Adam Lambert, The Lovely Steph Leann's Next American Idol Kris Allen and The Widower Danny Gokey...
A Very Deuce Christmas Story (parts 8 to 12)
Here's the next part of A Very Deuce Christmas Story, chronicling the events of Christmas week in 2000.
You can read Part One right here...
Then you can read Part Two right here...
8... CLEANING
Tommy stood on a hill.
He glanced down the slight incline where Amy Wible stood, staring off into the distance. He looked farther down the hill and saw Tom and Drew helping to pull down part of a wall from a house which had a large tree in its living room. Still farther down, Shawn and Wookiee were chopping up branches and timber, working with two other guys he didn't know. The tree was lying in the middle of the street, and was by this time in hundreds of pieces, pieces that Stephanie and Leslie were carrying to the large flatbed truck parked in the cul-de-sac. He noticed how the flatbed, empty upon their arrival several hours ago, was a lot more full now. "But where is Michael? Ty? Matt?" he thought for a second, doing a quick scan of the area.
He looked across the hill to his left, seeing Justin and Jennifer working together, both using small hatchets to take out small branches here and there. Tommy thought to himself randomly that he never knew she was so adept with a hatchet.
He glanced back at Amy, who hadn't moved. She once again looked at her watch, then appeared to stare up at the sky. Tommy looked in the same direction and saw the same dark gray clouds. He didn't move, however, as he his ears tuned in to a radio about ten feet away, next to a short guy in overalls who was using a shovel for something.
Amy stood still, and was in fact, worried. One p.m. and still no David, no Michael, no Matt, no Ty, no Ginger, and she was beginning to worry. Looking at those gray clouds, though she was no meteorologist, but she knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant evening, weather wise.
“Amy, I think we might have a problem,” Tommy said as began walking towards her.
“What’s that?” she asked, not looking at him, still staring at the sky.
“I was just listening some guy’s radio, and the weather isn’t looking too good. That winter storm they were expecting for tonight is moving much faster than expected. If we are here past, say, four o’clock, we might be here all night.”
“Have you seen Michael, or David?”
Tommy paused for a second, surprised. “They still aren’t here yet?”
“No. I’m beginning to worry a bit.”
“I’m sure they are fine, Amy,” Tommy tried his best to sound reassuring, but he also was a bit concerned that an hour drive had lasted almost four hours.
“Alright," she sighed, looking at him finally. "Well, keep listening to the weather, and I’ll make sure we are all out of here by two-thirty or so. I don’t want anyone driving home in that storm.”
“Okay.” Tommy turned and headed back to towards the yard he had emerged from.
Amy sighed again. She put her gloves back on and picked up the branches and wood she had been carrying.
“Where are the others working?” Shawn yelled over the roar of the chainsaw as Amy approached, "Mikey and Dave and the rest?"
“They aren’t here yet, Shawn,” Amy replied, walking past him with her load in her arms.
“What do you mean they aren’t here yet? They were supposed to leave right after we did!” He quickly powered down the chainsaw engine.
“I mean they aren’t here, and no one has heard from them.”
Shawn looked over at Wookiee, who had not heard the conversation and was still continuing to cut the large tree that they had worked on for the last hour.
“Hey Chris!” Shawn yelled. He had to yell it two more times to get Chris’ attention.
“What?” Wookiee turned off his chainsaw. “Dude, man, I was in the zone! I was almost done cutting through this thing!”
“Is your cell phone in your truck?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I am going to try to call Michael. They haven’t gotten here yet.”
“Well, the truck is unlocked. They are probably just over the hill working somewhere else. If Michael was giving directions, they probably got lost or something.”
“I hope they are just lost,” Amy said, walking back, arms empty this time.
9... PREDICAMENT
“What’s the plan?” Michael yelled from the bottom of the hill.
“I don’t know yet. I have your jackets, I’m going to throw them down to you!” I yelled back.
“Good! I’m freezing!” Ginger yelled.
“Here is Ginger’s!” I wrapped it up tightly into a ball, tying it together with the arms. I threw the ball high into the air so it wouldn’t have a chance to hit the wet ground.
Remarkably, it fell close to Ginger, and she was able to snatch it off the ground a mere second or two after it hit. She untied the arms and put the jacket on, then snapped and zipped every button and zipper she could.
“Better?” Michael smiled.
“Not really, but it helps,” she replied.
“Michael! Here comes yours!” I repeated the procedure I had done with Ginger’s jacket, by rolling it up and tying it into a ball. Again, I threw it high, and again, it landed close to the designated person.
Michael grabbed it before it had a chance to soak up hardly any of the wet ground, and untied it.
“Your cell phone is in the pocket!” I yelled to Michael.
He perked up, and reached into the pocket. He put his jacket on quickly, and then began to dial numbers on the cell phone.
“No signal!” he gritted to no one in particular. “Son of a…” and then he mumbled something I couldn’t hear and Ginger couldn’t understand. “Freaking’ BellSouth!” Michael then kicked a nearby rock in anger.
“Settle down, Michael,” Ginger said. She looked up, thirty feet higher, at me. “Are we going to just stand here and wait for Matt to come back?”
“No!” I replied loudly. “We are going to walk back to that gas station we stopped at earlier. It’s going to be about a six or seven mile walk, but the walking will keep us warm.”
“Which way? That way?” Ginger asked, pointing west.
“Yes! You guys walk down there, and I’ll walk up here. This hill has to have a starting point, and we’ll meet up there.”
Ginger and Michael both nodded in agreement, and we began to walk. Suddenly, my face felt a bit colder than it had in the hours spent on top of the hill. I touched my cheek and it was wet. I looked up and around, and realized it had begun to snow.
10... LEAVING
“Alright guys, I don’t know what to do about the others, but it’s past 2:30. You need to get out of here,” Amy said, walking up to where Drew and Tom were still cutting wood.
“Yeah, that storm is coming fast. It’s going to get really cold in a little while,” Tommy added, pulling his gloves off.
“I don’t know about you guys, but its pretty darn cold now,” Justin responded, putting his hatchet into the ground.
“Still nothing from the other guys?” Jenn asked.
“No,” Amy replied. “Now I’m really kind of worried, but if you guys don’t leave in a few minutes, you’ll be here until tomorrow.”
Drew and Tom nodded in agreement, as they began to assemble their tools they had been using. Jenn and Justin both threw the rest of the debris they had gathered into the large flatbed trailer the entire community had been using for just that purpose.
Drew held his hand out and watched as a snowflake landed on his skin.
“Guys, it’s snowing,” he announced. “I would really like to leave now.”
“Oh come on, its just snow,” Jenn laughed. “You should try Chicago right about now.”
“Well, being from Birmingham, I am obliged to lose my ever-lovin’ mind at the thought of snow.”
Amy walked to where Wookiee and Shawn were still cutting the same tree. They had made remarkable progress but she knew they wouldn’t get finished in the next few minutes, as they had to cut the tree trunk into several more pieces before it could be moved. Leslie and Stephanie were working together to roll a rather large, but conveniently circular, piece of the trunk to the debris truck.
“Guys, we have quite a storm on our hands coming, and we need to get out of here,” Amy told Shawn and Wookiee. “There’s still no word on the others.”
“My brother’s not here yet?” Stephanie asked, walking up behind Amy.
“Not yet,” was the reply. “But we still have to get out of here, at least to some sort of warmer climate.”
“Alright,” Wookiee looked at Shawn, “how long do you think it would take for us to finish this trunk?”
“About twenty minutes,” Shawn guessed.
“Cool,” Wookiee revved his chainsaw and then yelled, “Give us ten minutes!” He then drove the blade deep in the wood, grunting with glee.
“Give a Wookiee a chainsaw, he’s happy all the live long day,” Leslie laughed.
“You mean you didn’t know that?” Steph replied.
Drew pulled right up behind where the girls were standing, and then rolled down the window.
Leslie walked over to the passenger side where Tom sat.
“We are outta here,” Tom said. “We are going back to The Deuce, Jenn said she would fix us some hot chocolate, and we’ll have some waiting for you guys when you get back.”
“Drew, you have my cell phone number, right?” Leslie asked, looking past Tom.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Call me when you find out where Dave, Mike, Ty, Matt and Ginger are.”
“Have you tried Ty’s or Michael’s cell phone?” Justin asked, peeking from the backseat.
“Shawn tried it earlier,” Steph answered. “Michael’s just rang and rang, and we got Ty’s voicemail. There was no response from Matt or Ginger’s.”
“Does Dave have one?” Jenn asked.
“Heck no,” Amy said as she walked up. “He always says he refuses to get one.”
“Well, they really aren’t doing much good now,” Tommy replied.
“We’ll keep trying their phones all the way home, and we’ll pay attention to the roadside in case Matt’s truck broke down on the side of the interstate,” Tom said. “We’ll call you if we find anything.”
“Cool,” Amy said. “Thank you guys so much for helping. Now get out of here, it’s starting to snow harder.”
“Your welcome!” was the general statement from Drew and his passengers. Tom rolled up the window as they began to drive away.
Amy turned back to Leslie and Steph, and the three walked back to where Wookiee and Shawn were working hard on the tree trunk they were tackling.
“I’m going to go call them again,” Leslie said, as she turned to Wookiee’s Explorer parked nearby. She opened the passenger side backseat door, and reached into her jacket. To her surprise, it was ringing.
“Hello?” Leslie answered out of more surprise than a greeting.
“Who is this?” asked the static filled voice on the other end. “Is this Leslie?”
“Matt?” Leslie exclaimed. She held the phone down for a second to yell to the others. “Matt’s calling! It’s Matt Latta!”
Steph and Amy both turned quickly towards Leslie. Shawn and Wookiee both noticed the girl’s quick movements, and shut their chainsaws off.
“Where are you?” Leslie asked.
On the other end, Matt stood in a hospital lobby. He tried to speak slowly because he heard the static between the two lines.
“Leslie! We were in an accident! Ty is hurt, David and Michael and Ginger are stranded about twenty miles outside of town!”
Leslie put one hand over her left ear and pressed the phone hard onto her right, so hard that it hurt. She could only catch bits and pieces of what Matt had said.
“You were in an accident? Where are you?”
“At the hospital!” Matt again tried to speak slowly.
“Wait there! We’ll be there in a minute!”
“But I have to go back for Ginger and the guys!” Matt replied. He was speaking so loudly that a nurse came around the corner to find out what the commotion was.
“No! Wait there! We’ll be there…” Leslie lost reception. “Crap! Stupid Bellsouth!”
She looked over at Amy, Steph, Shawn and Wookiee who all stood anxious at the results of the conversation.
“They were in an accident?” Amy asked.
“Are they okay?” Steph added, frantically.
“I don’t know,” Leslie sighed, “I just know they are at the hospital. We’ve got to get over there!”
“Get in!” Wookiee walked quickly to the driver side of the truck, starting it and ready to leave before Steph and Amy could pile in the backseat with Leslie.
Matt hung up the phone and put his head on the black phone box on the wall. His mind began racing, first to "Go after Ginger and the guys", followed by "What happens when Leslie and the others get here, and no one is here to explain whats happening?" then followed by "Wait for the others, get help" then finally, "And thats wasting valuable time..."
Finally, he just sat down on the end of a row of chairs, waiting for them to find him. He glanced at the clock. It was about ten after three. He decided he would give them until 3:40, thirty minutes, and then he was out of here.
He leaned over rested his forehead in his hands, his elbows on his knees. Silently, he prayed Ty, then for David and Michael, and then Ginger. Aloud, he said to no one in particular--no one tangible, at least--“Please God, let her be safe. Let them all be safe.”
11... DECISIONS
“Holy Slash, it’s snowing!” Drew exclaimed, holding tightly to the wheel as his car crept along the interstate, moving around 10 to 15 miles an hour.
“It’s like a blizzard here,” Justin added, looking out the windows all around him. The wipers on the car were running full speed, but the snow and sleet was piling up as fast as the wipers could knock it off the windshield. "I've never seen this, not here in Alabama."
“Drew,” Tom spoke up, “how long can you drive in this?”
“I dunno, Tom,” Drew answered. “If it doesn’t let up some, not much longer.”
“How far is Birmingham from Tuscaloosa?” Tommy asked.
“About 45 minutes in normal driving conditions. At this rate, it’ll take us about four or five hours to get there,” Drew said. “This is insane.”
“Do we need to pull off somewhere and wait it out?” Jenn suggested, though she had no clue where they would go and stay warm.
“If we pull off anywhere, we are there for the evening,” Justin responded. “The forecast is freezing temperatures when the snow passes, which means the roads will be just about undrivable.”
“Your call, Drew,” Jenn said. “I’d really like to go home tonight, but I don’t want to do it dead, or with hypothermia because we slide off the road into a ditch.”
“Drew, if you can’t drive in it, don’t risk it. We’ll get to an exit and pull off at a rest stop or gas station or something,” Tommy said.
“We could get a hotel or something,” Drew suggested, not really wanting that to be the final answer. Like Jenn, he really wanted to get home. "I mean, not that I have any idea where a motel might be."
“Don't think that matters. We have about 8 dollars between us,” Tom observed. “We’ll just do what Tommy said, and stop somewhere really soon. We’ll wait out the storm, maybe a few hours or so, and then go home. I don’t think the roads will be as bad as everyone says they are.”
“Fine,” Drew sighed. Through the snow, he could make out a large blue sign indicating an upcoming exit. “There is an exit up here. I think I saw a restaurant there, so we can hole up there for a little while.”
The car slowly rolled to the exit, and Drew carefully steered it onto the exit ramp. He had a tight grip on the wheel, as every few feet the car jerked a little due to the slick ice and snow that had built up in the last hour.
Justin looked around out the windows, amazed that they were the only ones on the road. That, he thought, or he just couldn’t see anyone because you couldn’t see very far ahead. He did, however, see a yellow sign that looked very, very familiar. Jennifer saw it too, as he saw her grinning.
12... CREEK
The snow was coming down in thicker flakes, and much more heavy than a mere thirty minutes ago. I was freezing. I made my hands into fists in my jacket pockets, moving my fingers every few seconds to make sure I still had some movement in them.
I kept watch over Michael and Ginger who were still walking below me, both tightly wrapped up in their jackets as well. Ginger had a hood on, but I kept mine off so that I could hear Michael in case he yelled.
As we were approaching a bridge, I breathed a sigh of relief. I remembered this bridge being close to the interstate, so I knew we were very close to I-59, which would put us only two miles or so from the gas station where we were supposed to meet up with Matt. I hoped he wasn’t there waiting on us, in the cold. And I hoped that Ty was all right.
I had started to walk across the bridge, when I looked down and saw water. I turned around and looked back, and saw Michael and Ginger standing on the bank, Michael with his hands out, giving me the “what do we do now?” signal.
I held my hand up, motioning for him to hold on. I peered out over the edge, studying the bridge. It was only about 15 yards long, with the water below it not more than 5 yards wide. On the other side of the bridge, the embankment rose up to the roadside. I knew if Michael and Ginger could get to the other side, they could come up to where I was, where it was safer and more level ground.
“I’m going to the other side of the bridge!” I yelled down to Michael. I quickly walked across the bridge, stepped over the low metal barricade and looked at the hill leading down to the water.
I began to work my way down the hill, one foot after the other, sideways. There were rocks embedded all the way down, so I had solid footing, but the ice and snow made the trek down very slow. Finally I stood on the other side of the creek, facing Michael and Ginger. We were about 15 feet apart, closer than we had been in about four hours.
“How are we going to come across this water?” Michael asked.
“I have no idea,” I replied, looking around. There were small sheets of ice beginning to form on top of the water along the sides of the bank, but nothing substantial that would hold up either Michael or Ginger.
“Hey!” Ginger exclaimed, pointing to a small sandbar jutting through the water down the creek. “We cross right over there.”
We walked down the bank about ten yards until the sandbar was directly between us. It was just a small patch of wet sand about four feet long and two feet wide, and I would guess five feet from me. That would put it about ten feet from them.
“What do we do, jump?” Michael looked at Ginger. She looked around at a small patch of ice formed from the bank, jutting out about four feet into the water. She looked around again, this time spotting a thick branch on the snow. She walked over and picked it up, then walked to the ice.
She speared the ice with the stick, and then was pleasantly smiled when the ice was only scraped and not cracked.
“Okay, Michael, here’s the deal,” Ginger instructed. “Jump on the ice, to the sandbar, then the sandbar to the other side.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Ginger,” he replied. “That ice won’t hold either one of us.”
“Don’t stand on it, silly. You use it like a… well, a launching pad.”
I watched Ginger carefully, not hearing their conversation, but as she took a few steps back and turned, I could guess what she was doing.
“Oh boy,” I sighed, putting myself in a position to catch her when, and if, she came across.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Michael asked, as Ginger readied herself to run.
“I’m cold. The sooner we get to that station, the sooner I can be in the warm arms of my boyfriend.”
“Fiancée.”
“Whatever. To do that, we have to cross this creek. And that’s what I’m going to do.” Ginger paused for a second and then added, “When you run, plant your heel with each step for traction. It’s slippery.”
She stepped quickly to the bank, being careful with each step as so not to slip. When she reached the end of the bank, she planted her right foot on the ice and leapt two feet onto the sandbar, then in one continuous motion, thrusted herself up with her left foot and over the remaining four feet of water.
I caught her as she hit the other side of the bank, and kept her from falling over.
“Nice jump,” I said.
“Thanks for the catch,” she smiled.
“Don’t tell Matt,” I replied, looking back across the creek. “Your turn, there, Mikey.”
“I know, I know,” he called back. “I’m harnessing my chi.”
“Shut up and jump,” I laughed. “It’s cold out here.”
Michael started where Ginger did, and then three steps later he planted his left foot on the ice. As he made the jump to the sandbar, the ice fell beneath the water, splashing water on his foot and in his shoe. He leapt again off of the sandbar, landing on the bank, catching himself before he fell over.
“Dude, how come you didn’t catch me?” he stammered, brushing himself off.
“Mikey in my arms, Ginger in my arms, which do I choose?” I mockingly moved my hands up and down as to weigh my options.
“Good point,” he said, as he looked down at the dark, damp stain on the cuff of his pants. “Crap! My left foot is wet, and its cold!”
“Come on, we are thirty minutes from Matt’s truck and a heater,” I said.
PARTS 13 - 15
You can read Part One right here...
Then you can read Part Two right here...
8... CLEANING
Tommy stood on a hill.
He glanced down the slight incline where Amy Wible stood, staring off into the distance. He looked farther down the hill and saw Tom and Drew helping to pull down part of a wall from a house which had a large tree in its living room. Still farther down, Shawn and Wookiee were chopping up branches and timber, working with two other guys he didn't know. The tree was lying in the middle of the street, and was by this time in hundreds of pieces, pieces that Stephanie and Leslie were carrying to the large flatbed truck parked in the cul-de-sac. He noticed how the flatbed, empty upon their arrival several hours ago, was a lot more full now. "But where is Michael? Ty? Matt?" he thought for a second, doing a quick scan of the area.
He looked across the hill to his left, seeing Justin and Jennifer working together, both using small hatchets to take out small branches here and there. Tommy thought to himself randomly that he never knew she was so adept with a hatchet.
He glanced back at Amy, who hadn't moved. She once again looked at her watch, then appeared to stare up at the sky. Tommy looked in the same direction and saw the same dark gray clouds. He didn't move, however, as he his ears tuned in to a radio about ten feet away, next to a short guy in overalls who was using a shovel for something.
Amy stood still, and was in fact, worried. One p.m. and still no David, no Michael, no Matt, no Ty, no Ginger, and she was beginning to worry. Looking at those gray clouds, though she was no meteorologist, but she knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasant evening, weather wise.
“Amy, I think we might have a problem,” Tommy said as began walking towards her.
“What’s that?” she asked, not looking at him, still staring at the sky.
“I was just listening some guy’s radio, and the weather isn’t looking too good. That winter storm they were expecting for tonight is moving much faster than expected. If we are here past, say, four o’clock, we might be here all night.”
“Have you seen Michael, or David?”
Tommy paused for a second, surprised. “They still aren’t here yet?”
“No. I’m beginning to worry a bit.”
“I’m sure they are fine, Amy,” Tommy tried his best to sound reassuring, but he also was a bit concerned that an hour drive had lasted almost four hours.
“Alright," she sighed, looking at him finally. "Well, keep listening to the weather, and I’ll make sure we are all out of here by two-thirty or so. I don’t want anyone driving home in that storm.”
“Okay.” Tommy turned and headed back to towards the yard he had emerged from.
Amy sighed again. She put her gloves back on and picked up the branches and wood she had been carrying.
“Where are the others working?” Shawn yelled over the roar of the chainsaw as Amy approached, "Mikey and Dave and the rest?"
“They aren’t here yet, Shawn,” Amy replied, walking past him with her load in her arms.
“What do you mean they aren’t here yet? They were supposed to leave right after we did!” He quickly powered down the chainsaw engine.
“I mean they aren’t here, and no one has heard from them.”
Shawn looked over at Wookiee, who had not heard the conversation and was still continuing to cut the large tree that they had worked on for the last hour.
“Hey Chris!” Shawn yelled. He had to yell it two more times to get Chris’ attention.
“What?” Wookiee turned off his chainsaw. “Dude, man, I was in the zone! I was almost done cutting through this thing!”
“Is your cell phone in your truck?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I am going to try to call Michael. They haven’t gotten here yet.”
“Well, the truck is unlocked. They are probably just over the hill working somewhere else. If Michael was giving directions, they probably got lost or something.”
“I hope they are just lost,” Amy said, walking back, arms empty this time.
9... PREDICAMENT
“What’s the plan?” Michael yelled from the bottom of the hill.
“I don’t know yet. I have your jackets, I’m going to throw them down to you!” I yelled back.
“Good! I’m freezing!” Ginger yelled.
“Here is Ginger’s!” I wrapped it up tightly into a ball, tying it together with the arms. I threw the ball high into the air so it wouldn’t have a chance to hit the wet ground.
Remarkably, it fell close to Ginger, and she was able to snatch it off the ground a mere second or two after it hit. She untied the arms and put the jacket on, then snapped and zipped every button and zipper she could.
“Better?” Michael smiled.
“Not really, but it helps,” she replied.
“Michael! Here comes yours!” I repeated the procedure I had done with Ginger’s jacket, by rolling it up and tying it into a ball. Again, I threw it high, and again, it landed close to the designated person.
Michael grabbed it before it had a chance to soak up hardly any of the wet ground, and untied it.
“Your cell phone is in the pocket!” I yelled to Michael.
He perked up, and reached into the pocket. He put his jacket on quickly, and then began to dial numbers on the cell phone.
“No signal!” he gritted to no one in particular. “Son of a…” and then he mumbled something I couldn’t hear and Ginger couldn’t understand. “Freaking’ BellSouth!” Michael then kicked a nearby rock in anger.
“Settle down, Michael,” Ginger said. She looked up, thirty feet higher, at me. “Are we going to just stand here and wait for Matt to come back?”
“No!” I replied loudly. “We are going to walk back to that gas station we stopped at earlier. It’s going to be about a six or seven mile walk, but the walking will keep us warm.”
“Which way? That way?” Ginger asked, pointing west.
“Yes! You guys walk down there, and I’ll walk up here. This hill has to have a starting point, and we’ll meet up there.”
Ginger and Michael both nodded in agreement, and we began to walk. Suddenly, my face felt a bit colder than it had in the hours spent on top of the hill. I touched my cheek and it was wet. I looked up and around, and realized it had begun to snow.
10... LEAVING
“Alright guys, I don’t know what to do about the others, but it’s past 2:30. You need to get out of here,” Amy said, walking up to where Drew and Tom were still cutting wood.
“Yeah, that storm is coming fast. It’s going to get really cold in a little while,” Tommy added, pulling his gloves off.
“I don’t know about you guys, but its pretty darn cold now,” Justin responded, putting his hatchet into the ground.
“Still nothing from the other guys?” Jenn asked.
“No,” Amy replied. “Now I’m really kind of worried, but if you guys don’t leave in a few minutes, you’ll be here until tomorrow.”
Drew and Tom nodded in agreement, as they began to assemble their tools they had been using. Jenn and Justin both threw the rest of the debris they had gathered into the large flatbed trailer the entire community had been using for just that purpose.
Drew held his hand out and watched as a snowflake landed on his skin.
“Guys, it’s snowing,” he announced. “I would really like to leave now.”
“Oh come on, its just snow,” Jenn laughed. “You should try Chicago right about now.”
“Well, being from Birmingham, I am obliged to lose my ever-lovin’ mind at the thought of snow.”
Amy walked to where Wookiee and Shawn were still cutting the same tree. They had made remarkable progress but she knew they wouldn’t get finished in the next few minutes, as they had to cut the tree trunk into several more pieces before it could be moved. Leslie and Stephanie were working together to roll a rather large, but conveniently circular, piece of the trunk to the debris truck.
“Guys, we have quite a storm on our hands coming, and we need to get out of here,” Amy told Shawn and Wookiee. “There’s still no word on the others.”
“My brother’s not here yet?” Stephanie asked, walking up behind Amy.
“Not yet,” was the reply. “But we still have to get out of here, at least to some sort of warmer climate.”
“Alright,” Wookiee looked at Shawn, “how long do you think it would take for us to finish this trunk?”
“About twenty minutes,” Shawn guessed.
“Cool,” Wookiee revved his chainsaw and then yelled, “Give us ten minutes!” He then drove the blade deep in the wood, grunting with glee.
“Give a Wookiee a chainsaw, he’s happy all the live long day,” Leslie laughed.
“You mean you didn’t know that?” Steph replied.
Drew pulled right up behind where the girls were standing, and then rolled down the window.
Leslie walked over to the passenger side where Tom sat.
“We are outta here,” Tom said. “We are going back to The Deuce, Jenn said she would fix us some hot chocolate, and we’ll have some waiting for you guys when you get back.”
“Drew, you have my cell phone number, right?” Leslie asked, looking past Tom.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Call me when you find out where Dave, Mike, Ty, Matt and Ginger are.”
“Have you tried Ty’s or Michael’s cell phone?” Justin asked, peeking from the backseat.
“Shawn tried it earlier,” Steph answered. “Michael’s just rang and rang, and we got Ty’s voicemail. There was no response from Matt or Ginger’s.”
“Does Dave have one?” Jenn asked.
“Heck no,” Amy said as she walked up. “He always says he refuses to get one.”
“Well, they really aren’t doing much good now,” Tommy replied.
“We’ll keep trying their phones all the way home, and we’ll pay attention to the roadside in case Matt’s truck broke down on the side of the interstate,” Tom said. “We’ll call you if we find anything.”
“Cool,” Amy said. “Thank you guys so much for helping. Now get out of here, it’s starting to snow harder.”
“Your welcome!” was the general statement from Drew and his passengers. Tom rolled up the window as they began to drive away.
Amy turned back to Leslie and Steph, and the three walked back to where Wookiee and Shawn were working hard on the tree trunk they were tackling.
“I’m going to go call them again,” Leslie said, as she turned to Wookiee’s Explorer parked nearby. She opened the passenger side backseat door, and reached into her jacket. To her surprise, it was ringing.
“Hello?” Leslie answered out of more surprise than a greeting.
“Who is this?” asked the static filled voice on the other end. “Is this Leslie?”
“Matt?” Leslie exclaimed. She held the phone down for a second to yell to the others. “Matt’s calling! It’s Matt Latta!”
Steph and Amy both turned quickly towards Leslie. Shawn and Wookiee both noticed the girl’s quick movements, and shut their chainsaws off.
“Where are you?” Leslie asked.
On the other end, Matt stood in a hospital lobby. He tried to speak slowly because he heard the static between the two lines.
“Leslie! We were in an accident! Ty is hurt, David and Michael and Ginger are stranded about twenty miles outside of town!”
Leslie put one hand over her left ear and pressed the phone hard onto her right, so hard that it hurt. She could only catch bits and pieces of what Matt had said.
“You were in an accident? Where are you?”
“At the hospital!” Matt again tried to speak slowly.
“Wait there! We’ll be there in a minute!”
“But I have to go back for Ginger and the guys!” Matt replied. He was speaking so loudly that a nurse came around the corner to find out what the commotion was.
“No! Wait there! We’ll be there…” Leslie lost reception. “Crap! Stupid Bellsouth!”
She looked over at Amy, Steph, Shawn and Wookiee who all stood anxious at the results of the conversation.
“They were in an accident?” Amy asked.
“Are they okay?” Steph added, frantically.
“I don’t know,” Leslie sighed, “I just know they are at the hospital. We’ve got to get over there!”
“Get in!” Wookiee walked quickly to the driver side of the truck, starting it and ready to leave before Steph and Amy could pile in the backseat with Leslie.
Matt hung up the phone and put his head on the black phone box on the wall. His mind began racing, first to "Go after Ginger and the guys", followed by "What happens when Leslie and the others get here, and no one is here to explain whats happening?" then followed by "Wait for the others, get help" then finally, "And thats wasting valuable time..."
Finally, he just sat down on the end of a row of chairs, waiting for them to find him. He glanced at the clock. It was about ten after three. He decided he would give them until 3:40, thirty minutes, and then he was out of here.
He leaned over rested his forehead in his hands, his elbows on his knees. Silently, he prayed Ty, then for David and Michael, and then Ginger. Aloud, he said to no one in particular--no one tangible, at least--“Please God, let her be safe. Let them all be safe.”
11... DECISIONS
“Holy Slash, it’s snowing!” Drew exclaimed, holding tightly to the wheel as his car crept along the interstate, moving around 10 to 15 miles an hour.
“It’s like a blizzard here,” Justin added, looking out the windows all around him. The wipers on the car were running full speed, but the snow and sleet was piling up as fast as the wipers could knock it off the windshield. "I've never seen this, not here in Alabama."
“Drew,” Tom spoke up, “how long can you drive in this?”
“I dunno, Tom,” Drew answered. “If it doesn’t let up some, not much longer.”
“How far is Birmingham from Tuscaloosa?” Tommy asked.
“About 45 minutes in normal driving conditions. At this rate, it’ll take us about four or five hours to get there,” Drew said. “This is insane.”
“Do we need to pull off somewhere and wait it out?” Jenn suggested, though she had no clue where they would go and stay warm.
“If we pull off anywhere, we are there for the evening,” Justin responded. “The forecast is freezing temperatures when the snow passes, which means the roads will be just about undrivable.”
“Your call, Drew,” Jenn said. “I’d really like to go home tonight, but I don’t want to do it dead, or with hypothermia because we slide off the road into a ditch.”
“Drew, if you can’t drive in it, don’t risk it. We’ll get to an exit and pull off at a rest stop or gas station or something,” Tommy said.
“We could get a hotel or something,” Drew suggested, not really wanting that to be the final answer. Like Jenn, he really wanted to get home. "I mean, not that I have any idea where a motel might be."
“Don't think that matters. We have about 8 dollars between us,” Tom observed. “We’ll just do what Tommy said, and stop somewhere really soon. We’ll wait out the storm, maybe a few hours or so, and then go home. I don’t think the roads will be as bad as everyone says they are.”
“Fine,” Drew sighed. Through the snow, he could make out a large blue sign indicating an upcoming exit. “There is an exit up here. I think I saw a restaurant there, so we can hole up there for a little while.”
The car slowly rolled to the exit, and Drew carefully steered it onto the exit ramp. He had a tight grip on the wheel, as every few feet the car jerked a little due to the slick ice and snow that had built up in the last hour.
Justin looked around out the windows, amazed that they were the only ones on the road. That, he thought, or he just couldn’t see anyone because you couldn’t see very far ahead. He did, however, see a yellow sign that looked very, very familiar. Jennifer saw it too, as he saw her grinning.
12... CREEK
The snow was coming down in thicker flakes, and much more heavy than a mere thirty minutes ago. I was freezing. I made my hands into fists in my jacket pockets, moving my fingers every few seconds to make sure I still had some movement in them.
I kept watch over Michael and Ginger who were still walking below me, both tightly wrapped up in their jackets as well. Ginger had a hood on, but I kept mine off so that I could hear Michael in case he yelled.
As we were approaching a bridge, I breathed a sigh of relief. I remembered this bridge being close to the interstate, so I knew we were very close to I-59, which would put us only two miles or so from the gas station where we were supposed to meet up with Matt. I hoped he wasn’t there waiting on us, in the cold. And I hoped that Ty was all right.
I had started to walk across the bridge, when I looked down and saw water. I turned around and looked back, and saw Michael and Ginger standing on the bank, Michael with his hands out, giving me the “what do we do now?” signal.
I held my hand up, motioning for him to hold on. I peered out over the edge, studying the bridge. It was only about 15 yards long, with the water below it not more than 5 yards wide. On the other side of the bridge, the embankment rose up to the roadside. I knew if Michael and Ginger could get to the other side, they could come up to where I was, where it was safer and more level ground.
“I’m going to the other side of the bridge!” I yelled down to Michael. I quickly walked across the bridge, stepped over the low metal barricade and looked at the hill leading down to the water.
I began to work my way down the hill, one foot after the other, sideways. There were rocks embedded all the way down, so I had solid footing, but the ice and snow made the trek down very slow. Finally I stood on the other side of the creek, facing Michael and Ginger. We were about 15 feet apart, closer than we had been in about four hours.
“How are we going to come across this water?” Michael asked.
“I have no idea,” I replied, looking around. There were small sheets of ice beginning to form on top of the water along the sides of the bank, but nothing substantial that would hold up either Michael or Ginger.
“Hey!” Ginger exclaimed, pointing to a small sandbar jutting through the water down the creek. “We cross right over there.”
We walked down the bank about ten yards until the sandbar was directly between us. It was just a small patch of wet sand about four feet long and two feet wide, and I would guess five feet from me. That would put it about ten feet from them.
“What do we do, jump?” Michael looked at Ginger. She looked around at a small patch of ice formed from the bank, jutting out about four feet into the water. She looked around again, this time spotting a thick branch on the snow. She walked over and picked it up, then walked to the ice.
She speared the ice with the stick, and then was pleasantly smiled when the ice was only scraped and not cracked.
“Okay, Michael, here’s the deal,” Ginger instructed. “Jump on the ice, to the sandbar, then the sandbar to the other side.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Ginger,” he replied. “That ice won’t hold either one of us.”
“Don’t stand on it, silly. You use it like a… well, a launching pad.”
I watched Ginger carefully, not hearing their conversation, but as she took a few steps back and turned, I could guess what she was doing.
“Oh boy,” I sighed, putting myself in a position to catch her when, and if, she came across.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Michael asked, as Ginger readied herself to run.
“I’m cold. The sooner we get to that station, the sooner I can be in the warm arms of my boyfriend.”
“Fiancée.”
“Whatever. To do that, we have to cross this creek. And that’s what I’m going to do.” Ginger paused for a second and then added, “When you run, plant your heel with each step for traction. It’s slippery.”
She stepped quickly to the bank, being careful with each step as so not to slip. When she reached the end of the bank, she planted her right foot on the ice and leapt two feet onto the sandbar, then in one continuous motion, thrusted herself up with her left foot and over the remaining four feet of water.
I caught her as she hit the other side of the bank, and kept her from falling over.
“Nice jump,” I said.
“Thanks for the catch,” she smiled.
“Don’t tell Matt,” I replied, looking back across the creek. “Your turn, there, Mikey.”
“I know, I know,” he called back. “I’m harnessing my chi.”
“Shut up and jump,” I laughed. “It’s cold out here.”
Michael started where Ginger did, and then three steps later he planted his left foot on the ice. As he made the jump to the sandbar, the ice fell beneath the water, splashing water on his foot and in his shoe. He leapt again off of the sandbar, landing on the bank, catching himself before he fell over.
“Dude, how come you didn’t catch me?” he stammered, brushing himself off.
“Mikey in my arms, Ginger in my arms, which do I choose?” I mockingly moved my hands up and down as to weigh my options.
“Good point,” he said, as he looked down at the dark, damp stain on the cuff of his pants. “Crap! My left foot is wet, and its cold!”
“Come on, we are thirty minutes from Matt’s truck and a heater,” I said.
PARTS 13 - 15
The White Oaks, with Friends
So, Friday I met up with Mikey, The Rev'rn Ty and Big Tom for lunch, at our favorite waterin' hole, Johnny Ray's BBQ. I don't really know why we still meet there, to be honest, because its really only convenient for Mikey.
When I worked at 106.9 The Point and then NBC13, I was right down the street, so Mikey and I both abused our location power to The Rev'rn and Big Tom, forcing them to come to us. Now, with The Rev'rn living outside of Birmingham, and who knows where Big Tom is coming from, and I'm all the way down Highway 280, we should make Michael travel farther. But for whatever reason, we don't. That's neither here, nor there really.
Found out The White Oaks were playing Friday night at WorkPlay... Now, I'm not really connected to this band other than I know one guy in it, and sorta, kinda know of another guy, though I know his mom more. Matt Jackson is a worship leader, and I have been on many, many retreats and conferences where he was leading worship, both on a stage with hundreds of people, or in a Bible study with nine people (along with Michael Warren). He's married to Mollie, who is the daughter of Sybil Johnson.
Sybil Johnson is the leader of Undivided Ministries, and in my top ten all time Most Influential People, Like, Ever. When she was at Valleydale Baptist Church, she lead The Ministry Formerly Known as Common Ground, and when she left Valleydale, she formed (or continued, not sure which) Undivided, including mission trips to Washington, more Bible studies, discipleship groups and more. She's a neat, neat lady, and one of those that when she goes Home, Jesus will meet her and say, "Hey, good job. Really well done."
All that is to say that Sybil is the mother of Noel Johnson, who is the lead singer of The White Oaks. And its a band that I'd never seen, and honestly, I don't go to that many clubs anymore. Not that I ever did, but I had really forgotten what a cool place WorkPlay is. Oh, she's also friends with THE Al Denson. I celebrate his entire catalogue. I'll be honest with you. I love his music. I do, I'm an Al Denson fan. For my money, I don't know if it gets any better than when he sings "When a Man Loves a Woman".
I was going to call up Little Sister Ashley to see if she wanted to grab some dinner, as The Lovely Steph Leann is in The Ay Tee Ell with her mom, sister and niece on a girls weekend. Turns out, Lil Sister Ashley was actually having dinner with The Rev'rn, at his new house... so I talked to Lil Sister Ashley, and the two of us made plans to go to the show later that night.
As the night wore on, part of me didn't really want to go. Maybe its the new house, maybe its because I'm slowly leaving "early 30s" and heading into "mid-30s", or whatever, but I really like being at home lately. Plus, The Last of the Mohicans was on (currently residing in the #11 spot on the Dave100), so if she called to tell me she was on her way, I might have said, "Uh... go without me." As it turns out, I was able to see Chingachgook take care of Magua, avenging Uncas' death, and the credits were rolling before she called.
We headed to WorkPlay, a little club & bar, but also a small theater that is becoming quite the popular stop for rising stars or well-established stars looking for an "intimate setting". Amy Grant played there about a year ago, and I heard that it was an amazing show, and Kathy Mattea played a few weeks ago, both shows I would have love to have seen.
The theater is kind of "in the round" with the stage set back a little bit, and a small area in front that can be used for a dance area, or in the case of The White Oaks show, just an area where people can be close to the band. The seats are in a U-shaped area, surrounding the stage on three sides, and there's even two stories. I would be surprised if they could get 150 people in there, though there's probably some re-configuring that goes one with bigger shows like Amy Grant. You can see a scan of the lobby by clicking here.
WorkPlay was co-founded by Alan Hunter, one of the original DJs, and also contains a recording studio, a film studio and a full service bar.
We get there, and each pay our $10 to get into the show... apparently we missed the first act, which I heard from several people was not very good. I don't even know the name of the band, but somebody pointed out a saw on the stage and said, "you see that saw? They played that saw. Seriously. It was bad."
Being a The White Oaks show, and the attachment of Sybil, there were lots of people there I knew, including:
And of course, Amy V, whom I just love and adore. You know how you have friends who you don't see for a while, and after a while, you think "Ya know, I guess we're just acquaintances, because I never see this person," only you see them just before, maybe days or even minutes before they make that transition from friend to acquaintance? That's Amy. I randomly see her at random places, but it always makes me happy when I do. She's awesome.
Also saw Abbey Gore, the wife of Matt, who also spent some time leading Monday/Tuesday/Thursday night Bible Study at Sybil's (it bounced around days from year to year). Once again, I hadn't seen her in a long, long time. Later I looked at Mikey and said, "Ya know, I don't think I ever noticed it... but Abbey's kinda hot..." and he said, "Yeah, I think your right." Don't tell anyone I said that, though.
Up walks this chick I'd never seen before, and she spends a few minutes talking to Mikey, The Rev'rn, Sybil, and the others at those two booths that were side by side. I had sat down at a table in front of Mikey's booth, and though I was alone at my small table, I was right next to where Dr. Earl, Laquinta and Lil Sister Ashley was sitting, so I wasn't lonely.
The waitress came by, and I ordered myself a Ginger Ale. She said, "Two dollars" and I said, "Pay up front, I guess?" She nodded, so I handed her a 10. A few minutes later, she came back with a 16 oz plastic cup of Ginger Ale. And no change. I figured that they were just keeping a running tab at my table, so I shrugged it off.
Sybil taps me on the shoulder, and when I turn, she asks, "Is it okay for Nancy to sit here with you?" and I replied, "I would love for Nancy to sit here with me!' She asked, "Have you met Nancy?" and I replied, "Not a clue who she is." The girl who had spent time talking to The Rev'rn and his posse turned to me and Sybil, who said, "Nancy, this is David Dollar... there is a seat here, if you'd like." So Nancy stuck her hand out, we exchanged pleasantries and she sat down.
Turns out, she has a boyfriend who is taking the CPA exam and is buried in books studying. I told her The Lovely Steph Leann was in Atlanta with the women of her family, and from there, we had great conversation the whole concert.
The White Oaks started and really... they sounded good. Really good. They have a hard sound to peg, as the first few songs made me think of The Wallflowers and The Goo Goo Dolls, but later they had a song that reminded me of The Soggy Bottom Boys, and still another song made me think of either Vedder or The Crash Test Dummies. I think Noel's voice sounded like Vedder, but the song sound was of the Dummies. Overall, though, it was a great show.
It was hard to concentrate on the music when Noel Johnson looks so much like Judd Nelson. I kept looking around for Ally Sheedy, eating a potato chip sandwich in the corner. Yes, most of you won't get that, but some of you will, I just know it.
Nancy and I both compared musical tastes, and she agreed with The Wallflowers/Jakob Dylan assessment, and we both laughed repeatedly at the sound guy. The sound booth was in the clear area, directly in front of us, so we could look down into it. The sound guy had a tv there, and at the beginning, the concert was on the screen. Turns out, though, the had DirecTV, and he flipped from the Lakers/Jazz game to Sex in the City to something on WE to finally setting on Bravo, showing "Training Day".
The amusing sound guy, and his multitude of channel options. Including one that actually had the concert on.
I wanted another Ginger Ale, and Nancy had piped up that that was a good idea, so I ordered two. The waitress came back with our drinks and said, "Three dollars," and I gave her a bewildered look. "You never brought my change back." She got wide-eyed and said, "Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot! Like, I was wondering where in the hell this money came from! I'm so sorry! I'll be back with your change!" Nancy and I both laughed. I looked at her and said, "It's been a long time since I bought a girl a drink. You don't tell your man, I won't tell my chick," and she laughed and said, "Deal!"
Actually, I think the last time I really bought a girl a drink was in 1993, when I bought Deann Westin a Rum & Coke in the bar on the cruise ship. Another story, another day.
Down in the Standing Room Only clear area, I spotted Joel & Angela Blount, who would probably be a little creeped out at how excited I was to see them. See, Joel wrote this song called "Sunday Afternoon", its one of my favorite tunes on my iPod (at least 6 or 7 plays) and she looks like Paige Davis, who is 2nd to only Samantha Brown as Reality Show Host I'm Overly Obsessed With.
We all have this happen to us: There are some people you run into, and let's be honest, you don't really care how they are doing. That sounds mean, but they don't really care how you are either. I mean, they'll share sympathy over a recent tragedy, or be genuinely happy if something big has just happened to you, but for the most part, its like "I'm good, you're good, let's part ways and not see each other for another few years, and tomorrow you won't remember (or care) how I'm doing, just like I won't remember (or care) how you are."
Once, I saw a guy I knew in college while in Barnes & Noble. To avoid the conversation above, I literally hid on the opposite side of the store. He found me anyway, and we spent five minutes catching up, and all I could think of was, "This might the most we've ever talked, and there's a reason..."
Seeing Amy V and Joel & Angela Blount in one night? The polar opposite of that very thing I just talked about. Its more like "Wow, I just want to stand here in your presence and talk about whatever, because I don't see you nearly enough and you probably think I'm a dork but I really am excited you are here!" Which, yeah, is sorta creepy and uncomfortable, so I'll move on.
You know, I hope I wasn't the guy that Joel, Angela and Amy would avoid in Barnes & Noble just to keep from talking too... I might have a complex about this now.
Me and Amy V! Moments after this, Amy V filed a restraining order, and I spent the rest of the evening stalking Joel & Angela outside their kitchen window.
Overall, it was a great night of music and fun. Heck, if this were 1995, I would have asked for the phone number of the chick sitting with me at the table--and gotten it. As it is, 13 years later, I enjoyed telling Nancy about The Lovely Steph Leann, and how great she is. Maybe I'm just getting older in my happily married ways. Next time, I'm bringing her with me. I might even get her hammered just so I can take her home.
Click here for The White Oaks myspace site, also to be added to the links on the right. The song "Hey Julie" has been heard on Reg's Coffeehouse on 94.5
When I worked at 106.9 The Point and then NBC13, I was right down the street, so Mikey and I both abused our location power to The Rev'rn and Big Tom, forcing them to come to us. Now, with The Rev'rn living outside of Birmingham, and who knows where Big Tom is coming from, and I'm all the way down Highway 280, we should make Michael travel farther. But for whatever reason, we don't. That's neither here, nor there really.
Found out The White Oaks were playing Friday night at WorkPlay... Now, I'm not really connected to this band other than I know one guy in it, and sorta, kinda know of another guy, though I know his mom more. Matt Jackson is a worship leader, and I have been on many, many retreats and conferences where he was leading worship, both on a stage with hundreds of people, or in a Bible study with nine people (along with Michael Warren). He's married to Mollie, who is the daughter of Sybil Johnson.
Sybil Johnson is the leader of Undivided Ministries, and in my top ten all time Most Influential People, Like, Ever. When she was at Valleydale Baptist Church, she lead The Ministry Formerly Known as Common Ground, and when she left Valleydale, she formed (or continued, not sure which) Undivided, including mission trips to Washington, more Bible studies, discipleship groups and more. She's a neat, neat lady, and one of those that when she goes Home, Jesus will meet her and say, "Hey, good job. Really well done."
All that is to say that Sybil is the mother of Noel Johnson, who is the lead singer of The White Oaks. And its a band that I'd never seen, and honestly, I don't go to that many clubs anymore. Not that I ever did, but I had really forgotten what a cool place WorkPlay is. Oh, she's also friends with THE Al Denson. I celebrate his entire catalogue. I'll be honest with you. I love his music. I do, I'm an Al Denson fan. For my money, I don't know if it gets any better than when he sings "When a Man Loves a Woman".
I was going to call up Little Sister Ashley to see if she wanted to grab some dinner, as The Lovely Steph Leann is in The Ay Tee Ell with her mom, sister and niece on a girls weekend. Turns out, Lil Sister Ashley was actually having dinner with The Rev'rn, at his new house... so I talked to Lil Sister Ashley, and the two of us made plans to go to the show later that night.
As the night wore on, part of me didn't really want to go. Maybe its the new house, maybe its because I'm slowly leaving "early 30s" and heading into "mid-30s", or whatever, but I really like being at home lately. Plus, The Last of the Mohicans was on (currently residing in the #11 spot on the Dave100), so if she called to tell me she was on her way, I might have said, "Uh... go without me." As it turns out, I was able to see Chingachgook take care of Magua, avenging Uncas' death, and the credits were rolling before she called.
We headed to WorkPlay, a little club & bar, but also a small theater that is becoming quite the popular stop for rising stars or well-established stars looking for an "intimate setting". Amy Grant played there about a year ago, and I heard that it was an amazing show, and Kathy Mattea played a few weeks ago, both shows I would have love to have seen.
The theater is kind of "in the round" with the stage set back a little bit, and a small area in front that can be used for a dance area, or in the case of The White Oaks show, just an area where people can be close to the band. The seats are in a U-shaped area, surrounding the stage on three sides, and there's even two stories. I would be surprised if they could get 150 people in there, though there's probably some re-configuring that goes one with bigger shows like Amy Grant. You can see a scan of the lobby by clicking here.
WorkPlay was co-founded by Alan Hunter, one of the original DJs, and also contains a recording studio, a film studio and a full service bar.
We get there, and each pay our $10 to get into the show... apparently we missed the first act, which I heard from several people was not very good. I don't even know the name of the band, but somebody pointed out a saw on the stage and said, "you see that saw? They played that saw. Seriously. It was bad."
Being a The White Oaks show, and the attachment of Sybil, there were lots of people there I knew, including:
- The Good Doctor Earl. He was sitting at a table with a girl named... Latika? Lateeka? Either way, apparently her parents thought she was black upon birth, but for whatever reason, white girl don't have a white name. She was really nice, though.
- Tommy McL. He was sitting with The Good Doctor Earl, but ended up at another table. Amy McL and Baby Sophie were absent, understandably. Little Sister Ashley ended up sitting with Dr. Earl and Laquisha.
- Mikey and his wifey Ashley. They were at one of the booths, sitting with...
- The Rev'rn Ty, and his friend Brooke. I think it was Brooke. I only know her as Amanda's roommate, not that I've ever met Amanda. I really don't know what I'm talking about here.
- Drew, who sat down at the end of the booths, though I didn't get much of chance to speak to him. He looked in good spirits, though.
- Heather Rowland, whom I haven't seen in a couple of years. I think she might have been with Drew, but don't quote me on that.
- Sybil, of course. She was with her boo Dan, who I think I could count on two hands the number of times I've heard him speak.
And of course, Amy V, whom I just love and adore. You know how you have friends who you don't see for a while, and after a while, you think "Ya know, I guess we're just acquaintances, because I never see this person," only you see them just before, maybe days or even minutes before they make that transition from friend to acquaintance? That's Amy. I randomly see her at random places, but it always makes me happy when I do. She's awesome.
Also saw Abbey Gore, the wife of Matt, who also spent some time leading Monday/Tuesday/Thursday night Bible Study at Sybil's (it bounced around days from year to year). Once again, I hadn't seen her in a long, long time. Later I looked at Mikey and said, "Ya know, I don't think I ever noticed it... but Abbey's kinda hot..." and he said, "Yeah, I think your right." Don't tell anyone I said that, though.
Up walks this chick I'd never seen before, and she spends a few minutes talking to Mikey, The Rev'rn, Sybil, and the others at those two booths that were side by side. I had sat down at a table in front of Mikey's booth, and though I was alone at my small table, I was right next to where Dr. Earl, Laquinta and Lil Sister Ashley was sitting, so I wasn't lonely.
The waitress came by, and I ordered myself a Ginger Ale. She said, "Two dollars" and I said, "Pay up front, I guess?" She nodded, so I handed her a 10. A few minutes later, she came back with a 16 oz plastic cup of Ginger Ale. And no change. I figured that they were just keeping a running tab at my table, so I shrugged it off.
Sybil taps me on the shoulder, and when I turn, she asks, "Is it okay for Nancy to sit here with you?" and I replied, "I would love for Nancy to sit here with me!' She asked, "Have you met Nancy?" and I replied, "Not a clue who she is." The girl who had spent time talking to The Rev'rn and his posse turned to me and Sybil, who said, "Nancy, this is David Dollar... there is a seat here, if you'd like." So Nancy stuck her hand out, we exchanged pleasantries and she sat down.
Turns out, she has a boyfriend who is taking the CPA exam and is buried in books studying. I told her The Lovely Steph Leann was in Atlanta with the women of her family, and from there, we had great conversation the whole concert.
The White Oaks started and really... they sounded good. Really good. They have a hard sound to peg, as the first few songs made me think of The Wallflowers and The Goo Goo Dolls, but later they had a song that reminded me of The Soggy Bottom Boys, and still another song made me think of either Vedder or The Crash Test Dummies. I think Noel's voice sounded like Vedder, but the song sound was of the Dummies. Overall, though, it was a great show.
It was hard to concentrate on the music when Noel Johnson looks so much like Judd Nelson. I kept looking around for Ally Sheedy, eating a potato chip sandwich in the corner. Yes, most of you won't get that, but some of you will, I just know it.
Nancy and I both compared musical tastes, and she agreed with The Wallflowers/Jakob Dylan assessment, and we both laughed repeatedly at the sound guy. The sound booth was in the clear area, directly in front of us, so we could look down into it. The sound guy had a tv there, and at the beginning, the concert was on the screen. Turns out, though, the had DirecTV, and he flipped from the Lakers/Jazz game to Sex in the City to something on WE to finally setting on Bravo, showing "Training Day".
The amusing sound guy, and his multitude of channel options. Including one that actually had the concert on.
I wanted another Ginger Ale, and Nancy had piped up that that was a good idea, so I ordered two. The waitress came back with our drinks and said, "Three dollars," and I gave her a bewildered look. "You never brought my change back." She got wide-eyed and said, "Ohmigosh, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot! Like, I was wondering where in the hell this money came from! I'm so sorry! I'll be back with your change!" Nancy and I both laughed. I looked at her and said, "It's been a long time since I bought a girl a drink. You don't tell your man, I won't tell my chick," and she laughed and said, "Deal!"
Actually, I think the last time I really bought a girl a drink was in 1993, when I bought Deann Westin a Rum & Coke in the bar on the cruise ship. Another story, another day.
Down in the Standing Room Only clear area, I spotted Joel & Angela Blount, who would probably be a little creeped out at how excited I was to see them. See, Joel wrote this song called "Sunday Afternoon", its one of my favorite tunes on my iPod (at least 6 or 7 plays) and she looks like Paige Davis, who is 2nd to only Samantha Brown as Reality Show Host I'm Overly Obsessed With.
We all have this happen to us: There are some people you run into, and let's be honest, you don't really care how they are doing. That sounds mean, but they don't really care how you are either. I mean, they'll share sympathy over a recent tragedy, or be genuinely happy if something big has just happened to you, but for the most part, its like "I'm good, you're good, let's part ways and not see each other for another few years, and tomorrow you won't remember (or care) how I'm doing, just like I won't remember (or care) how you are."
Once, I saw a guy I knew in college while in Barnes & Noble. To avoid the conversation above, I literally hid on the opposite side of the store. He found me anyway, and we spent five minutes catching up, and all I could think of was, "This might the most we've ever talked, and there's a reason..."
Seeing Amy V and Joel & Angela Blount in one night? The polar opposite of that very thing I just talked about. Its more like "Wow, I just want to stand here in your presence and talk about whatever, because I don't see you nearly enough and you probably think I'm a dork but I really am excited you are here!" Which, yeah, is sorta creepy and uncomfortable, so I'll move on.
You know, I hope I wasn't the guy that Joel, Angela and Amy would avoid in Barnes & Noble just to keep from talking too... I might have a complex about this now.
Me and Amy V! Moments after this, Amy V filed a restraining order, and I spent the rest of the evening stalking Joel & Angela outside their kitchen window.
Overall, it was a great night of music and fun. Heck, if this were 1995, I would have asked for the phone number of the chick sitting with me at the table--and gotten it. As it is, 13 years later, I enjoyed telling Nancy about The Lovely Steph Leann, and how great she is. Maybe I'm just getting older in my happily married ways. Next time, I'm bringing her with me. I might even get her hammered just so I can take her home.
Click here for The White Oaks myspace site, also to be added to the links on the right. The song "Hey Julie" has been heard on Reg's Coffeehouse on 94.5