Monthly Archives: March 2013

Mosh Pits And Incontinence – Recapturing Youth

Mosh Pits And Incontinence – Recapturing Youth
Step off, bitches!

Step off, bitches!

I’ve been fortunate to have accidentally lived in certain cities during their heydays. In the 1980’s I was in Silicon Valley and San Francisco for the high tech and new wave music boom. 1990’s it was Seattle for Microsoft and the grunge movement.

I’m not sure exactly which city best represents the 2000’s but for me it was split between Portland (before Portlandia existed) and Santa Barbara.

Not sure there is much to say about Santa Barbara…..Michael Jackson’s pedophile case was tried here. Does that count for anything?

As I’ve gotten older and my kids are no longer the parasites they once were, I’ve been trying to recapture a little of the person I was before I turned into the life-giving drone I became.

So, when one of my dearest and oldest friends mentioned that The Specials were on their reunion tour and playing in San Francisco, I immediately committed to getting my saggy ass back up to The City by The Bay to do some serious recapturing.

Let me start by telling you that I have always FREAKING LOVED THE SPECIALS! I believe they are one of the best but shortest-lived bands ever. I am a closet ska girl. I made the DJ at my wedding reception play all their songs, even though there were only a few of us who would get out there and skank (ska dancing for the unenlightened).

One of the steps in recapturing my inner rude girl is going to a concert that is general admittance where one must stand pressed inappropriately against strangers.  In recent years I’ve gone more the barc-o-lounger route, because I say shit like “Oy, my aching back!” or “Is it loud or is it me?” and “What the hell is that smell?”

But see, with a Ska band, you CAN NOT sit down. It is physically impossible not to dance.

This is a scientific fact. Go look it up.

The next step is remembering all the important concert rules. First and foremost of said rules is that one must never “break the seal.” Meaning, hold your pee because once you go the first time, you will have to go constantly through the concert and no one wants to have to go to a bathroom in a venue that would have any band you’d want to see. So, if you hold it until that initial need passes, you can hold it for the duration.

This is yet another scientific fact. See, I entertain AND educate.

Or, at least that’s what used to work when I was in my 20’s and had not yet had children. Suffice it to say that there is really no “seal” to speak of after that.

But, pissing oneself aside, this was one of the most fun nights I’d had in years. It was easy to get right back to that place of feeling so much joy in music that you love while being surrounded by friends that you love.

Plus, I have come up with a new product idea. Concert diapers for the post-30’s crowd. You can buy them next to the t-shirts in the lobby with the band logo on them. Let’s face it, most of the bands could use these too.

Introducing
Piss Off! Concert Nappies ™

 “Not Your Grandma’s Diapers.” ™

Rude Girl is back.

Personal Space Invaders

Personal Space Invaders

At one time or another we have all come across one. Some of you may even be one. What I speak of is the Close Talker, the all-too-frequent person who just loves to get all up in your space.

It seems like, and this may just be me and my pile of neurosis, but the universally agreed-upon personal space boundary of 18 inches to 4 feet seems to be in jeopardy. I’d love to think it’s simply my exceptional magnetism that is causing people to stick to me like flies on shit, but I believe it may be a wider spread problem.

It seems to crop up all over the place. At work, social events, standing in lines. Who hasn’t had that  person behind you in line seeming to climb up on your back while waiting to buy their Hot Pockets and Tab?

No one will take your crappy food products, honey. Back off and relax. Do NOT make me mark my territory….because I will. In fact, it’s one of the few times when I sort of wish I had a penis, as marking off that distance would be much more effective with that tool at my disposal.

We are not in China, people! We have wide open prairies here.

We are not in China, people! We have wide open prairies here.

Then, there are those who get up in your junk because they are simply liquored up. These people live in the “negative-space” world where they actually seem to try to crawl inside of you.

Now, I understand situational space limitations when one needs a drink at a crowded bar. I’m not an animal, people. I have feelings.

Barkeep! Another Gin Fizz for the little lady!!

But, if you are pushing your way in for, let’s say, your 10th drink, I no longer have the empathy I would have had for your 1st or 2nd.

I had an experience just recently with this exact situation. While standing at the bar of a groovy new hotspot I started to feel a strange pressure against my back that slowly turned into a full-body press. When I turned around to see who my assailant was, I realized it was a famous person who I will refer to as “Sam” because that is his name.

This fine establishment was obviously not his first stop of the night as he was doing that squinty-eyed swaying sort of thing that indicates either an astigmatism and vertigo or being tanked. Me thinks it was the latter.

So, instead of swaying and toppling over, why not just lean up against someone and hope they don’t make any sudden moves. Find a human lamp post, as it were. And if said lamp post is a woman, and I am a drunk dude, all the better.

I was a human lamp post to the stars. A very proud moment for me. Though not so much for him as he was soon escorted out of the place.

So, the moral of  the story is simply this:

Back the hell off!!!!

I will leave you all with this educational film. Watch it and learn. And, by God, stand your ground!

 

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly of Fashion

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly of Fashion

“If you wore a trend the first time around, you don’t get to wear it the second time around.”
― Stacey London

Oh, Stacey London, you are the Socrates of Style. If only people listened.

Like death and taxes, one can always take comfort in the consistency of bad fashion making a return appearance in our culture. It is a testament to the creative limitations of the fashion industry.

And proof that we are a planet of lemmings.

I’ve often wondered where fashion trends are born. I know where they all die – in the back of my closet. But what sort of demented mastermind came up with the idea to resurrect culottes (which first came into fashion as knee-breeches commonly worn by gentlemen of the European upper-classes from the late Middle Ages or Renaissance).

Yeah, I read shit.

I picture a room full of these guys huffing hairspray and coming up with the Summer line.

I have been unfortunate enough to have been the willing victim of several hideous fashion trends. Just like the rest of you, I have happily worn shoulder pads so big I had to step sideways through doorways. I’ve worn neon mini skirts with suspenders and sang “Oh Mickey You’re So Fine” whilst kicking up my sparkly tennis shoes.

Let’s take a moment to walk down memory lane. Well, not so much memory lane, since most of this crap is back or on it’s way back into the fashion focus. Maybe more of a walk of shame.

Hammer Pants (or the “I’ve taken a dump and you can’t tell” pant)

Then:

A bit of street pimp with a dash of Ali Baba.

Now:

Jesus, Chris Brown, did you beat Rihanna with that thing?

The One-piece Jumper

Then:

Just because you could make it in you hobby room, does not mean you should.

Now:

I want to wrap him in a blanket and put him down for a nap.

I want to wrap him in a blanket and put him down for a nap.

 Overalls

Then:

The item of clothing that knew no racial, gender or economic boundaries.

The item of clothing that knew no racial, gender or economic boundaries.

Now:

Here, let me just put on my jaunty chapeau before I hit the fields, Pa Joad.

 Bonus Now:

I…wha?....huh??? I am a business man. No, I am a blue collar man. No, I am a bookish hipster. How about just NO!

I…wha?….huh??? I am a business man. No, I am a blue collar man. No, I am a bookish hipster. How about just NO!

Double Bonus Now:

What do we love more than a hillbilly? A BRILLIANT hillbilly!

What do we love more than a hillbilly? A BRILLIANT hillbilly!

I could go on for many pages about neon, ripped up t-shirts, Varnais sunglasses, mock turtlenecks and platform tennis shoes. But, I think we all get the rather sordid picture here. So, I will leave you with a quote from my favorite famous gay, who is NEVER wrong.

“Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.”
― Oscar Wilde