CARLY-TOE'S WAY...

ONCE AGAIN, CLEARING OUT EMAILS, THIS ONE WAS CLASSIC...

so here's a recap story from my weekend trip to the hershey theater. call me old school because i'm the only one that refuses to be on facebook, call me old fashioned because i won't send out 40 letters educating the masses (and making the disgruntled ones broke), but a word or 2 must be said about a young ballerina i saw perform on the stage in front of hundreds...

but first more about me...

i woke up sat morning and watched some of the aussie world cup match and texted with timmy about what a hand ball was. apparently it is any part of the arm at all, not the hand itself. i only played soccer for halftime as a kid, we got free grapes and oranges...

i brewed a "pot" of coffee and slunk back on my all enveloping couch and played poker online. thank goodness they have a play money option on full tilt otherwise i'd be just cresting over probably 4 million lost. yeah, i've won a few tournaments but the amount of winnings goes right back into the pot and lost just as fast as i have won. lost some real money too but when drunk you think you can conquer the world, and the poker world is no different. luckily though its only been a few live person cash games, and i won it all back over the years. i play live person real money once or twice a year, and i'd say i'm about even, if not out the $10 buy-in... i digress...

after my pot (8 cups) of coffee i flew down the stairs and grabbed my ticket from jmac... realizing this wasn't a suit n tie affair (hershey theater always seemed to be too hoity-toity to me.) i had a pair of nice shorts not in the filth pile yet so i got them ready for the show... pile, yeah right, if ya ever stopped by unexpectedly, the filth is all over the apt :) i'm a messy bachelor... i need a maid for my 3 rooms.... dad, whats the going rate?

so i ran to the sink, shaved the stubble from my face and head, showered, lotioned up, powdered down, grabbed my GPS (like american express, i don't leave home without it), and headed to chocolate town.

after a few traffic misfits kept me from getting there on time, and a woman in front of me in line moaned over her illegal bottled water (theater is a money making machine... this ain't the colonial commons movie theater) i sat down and 2 seconds later (no exaggeration) the announcements came on. i could have been more on time but i figured with 2 seconds to spare, it was close enough.

the lights dimmed and the groups upon groups of scantily clad 14 to 48 year olds danced their little butts off, tapping and kicking thru the typical dance songs and much were choreographed but some danced to the beat of just one drum... sorry emmanuel lewis, i got nothing for webster lyrics....

then the curtain lifted revealing the "kid-kids", we're talkin the aww factor was in full effect, and of course as if on cue the rush of "awwwwwws" flew through the crowd. after much scanning it was pointed out that carly was on the bleachers waiting to go. the little dancers in front of her finished their routine, and the young female version of barishnikov walked to dead center front row of the stage. (i don't know any famous ballerina names so his will have to do)... while other children performed in their own right, carly stood still and waited for her cue... even when she gave a wave to the crowd, she knew she had it.

music started, and while every other kid looked away, down, talked to their mother or father in the crowd, or looked to the instructor offstage for guidance, carly looked dead ahead and didn't just hit the routine, but it was as if she was giving a clinic to the rest of the kids. every beat was perfect, her timing was impeccable. every move hit every moment and it was truly impressive to watch. i couldn't remember if i tied my shoes that afternoon, and this girl didn't just remember the routine, wasn't just ready to perform, wasn't just amazing... she was perfection. it was as if she was Smokey in the movie "friday"...she stood over that now dazed routine as if to say "you got knocked the F*** out man!!!"

it was truly an awesome glimpse into her brilliance...

afterwards we all went our separate ways, i headed to Annville until i turned on the GPS and turned around, but i realized why those stage mothers do it... i couldn't have been more proud of my cousin, and she wasn't even my kid.

III

PS... the ol godson is next in line. he put on a show during the show of dancin, smilin, and kept the godfather and grandfather actin foolish and makin faces successfully making him smile... then we proposed he get on stage next, but they'd have to fashion a chair facing the back of the stage, have jon sit facing the back of the stage, and have nick peering over his left shoulder, dancing to the beat and smilin with that trademark cheeky face. it would bring the house down.

then again, i think we found our bassist for the 4G band... rock on (god)son!

HOW'D WE GET INTO THIS MESS?

BREATHE IN... IF YOU READ MY BLOG YOU WILL FIND IF YOU ARE AN EMAILED PERSON OF MINE THAT YOU MAY RECOGNIZE A FEW IF NOT MORE THAN A LITTLE OR SOMETIMES EVERY ONE OF MY BLOGS HAVE APPEARED IN AN EMAIL FORM SOMEHOW ONCE OR ANOTHER TIME BEFORE... FOLLOW THAT? THIS IS A GOOD PLACE TO STORE THEM FOR OTHERS TO READ AGAIN AND HELP ME CLEAR OUT MY 8000 EMAILS IN MY GMAIL FOLDER WITHOUT LOSING THEM. I WROTE THIS ON A COLD WEEKEND EARLIER THIS YEAR AFTER AN OUTING TO SEE MY COUSIN'S BAND "A HOT MESS"........................... ENJOY

A HOT MESS

 A few weeks ago I decided to go to the midtown for a jets / patriots game to watch it with an old midtown regular buddy named johnny mustache… he’s an older Puerto Rican dude who said no one can pronounce his last name, but he’s always worn a mustache, so he’s called johnny mustache.. If you were ever there while the steelers games were on with mike and I a few years ago, he is the guy who is always rooting for the jets, and I pass him on a daily basis on my bike on third street on the way home. (what were ya sean like 19? Ya gotta love midtown… cause that’s when I started going there too!) He works at roxy’s on third st and always screams my name (to him) “STEEEELERRRRRRRS”... when I pass him you can hear his echo thru the side streets of the city. Truly a nice guy and completely awesome to sit and have a few beers with. Heck in that case he could be president. Isn’t that how Bush got elected (‘a guy you’d wanna have a beer with’)?

 So I walk in to surprise johnny cause I hadn’t been in there for a while on a Sunday and low and behold johnny wasn’t there. So I drank my pitcher of water and as I sat by myself for a depressed 45 minutes, who walks in but Patty mac daddy and his friend/manager/former bandmate/the greatest bass player I’ve seen, err, rather, heard (who I can easily say that about who isn’t family) adam bustin. They decided to sit with me and life became manageable for that next hour. We chatted and joked and watched the pats jets game and figured all was right with the world.

 Midtown promoted January 22 as a day that a kickass blues band called the cornlickers was playing there.  I suggested they come down to hear them play and that’s when pat said he couldn’t… that he was playing downtown Gman that night… so naturally those who licked corn were put on the backburner. I knew I was in for a show, but I had to drive to get to it.

 On a side note, I’m weird. I like to go out and see a band. I am not there to talk, I wanna listen to the band. so it can be viewed as antisocial and in fact it is the definition. I’m not the social butterfly you think about when I’m out n about, cause in fact I don’t go out often. So if anyone thought oddly of me well, deal with it… that’s just me………sober. People say what’s new and I say I’m out of the apt., that’s what!

 Fast forward to the coldest night of globally warmed winter thus far.  January 22 was upon us with a feared frozen vengeance and so I threw on my long johns and layered up for the 2 second walk to my car, then the known 2 minute walk from the parking garage to the bar. Bundled with a masque and compfy carhartt hat I was warm and happy to see my cousin.

 I walk in and low and behold they were playing on the smoking side. Whats 2 showers in a night like for me? well I’ll put it to you this way… it was cold enough I would have done the second one after even if it wasn’t the smoking side. That’s how cold it was. But with me, a former smoker of 16 years (working toward my 4^th year without) I now know I am officially severely allergic to cigarettes. But I wasn’t leaving, as my cousin pat was there and was gonna play. I sat with kiwi and his awesome girlfriend Christine, their smoking buddy whose lit cigarette was contending with my staying there the entire evening (one of the few times in a restaurant where I couldn’t complain about the cigs, even though I never do anyway… here I just couldn’t if I wanted to…) but I toughed it out. *sniffle* 

Another room scan produced aunt mare and uncle pat, uncle patchy, aunt Phyllis, Sharon, vince, the 45 minute vince and his buddy I think merv even came. (you guessed it, like clockwork eventually they left. Vinny’s funny that way, and hopefully he understands I get it. We’re an annoying group of people, there’s never any seats when ya go out, ya always have to slide by someone cause grampa and gramma couldn’t stop at 2 kids no, they had to have 14 and they turned around and mass produced 38 million cousins, then we grow up and the cycle continues… it’s the cirrrrrrrcle, the circle of liiiiiiiiiiife.. I guess the baby BOOM didn’t happen till grampa got started… err, finished… how did we get here? Oye vey…. Oh yeah, see vinny? I over thought by 4 minutes, that’s what happens. but I love the young lad.)

 Kiwi’s mow hawked lookalike (the promoter guy) got up and announced a young woman would be opening so we shot a few games of pool, discussed the merits sports where you can smoke a cig and drink a beer and still be called an athlete… poker, shuffleboard, pool, darts, anything no sweat breaking and non physical I am good at… bowling, curling I’d imagine I’d be the thrower not the sweepers, etc etc etc. (writing… ok it isn’t a sport nor is it athletic, but I am told its an acquired skill…) 

So FINALLY PJ and his bandmates got their instruments and began playing. The girl was good but well, she went on too long in my opinion, and uncle pat said she sounded like some other cat on a fence I couldn’t listen to…

 First up, if howard stern didn’t play bowie’s “rebel, rebel” constantly into and out of the breaks during the “history of howard stern” shows, I would have never known the song…..

 Their sound is awesome. They have a sax player who is off the chart, the bass player (not adam) was very good and is a good lead singer, the drummer who is a spitting image of mikey if mikey had any arm muscle mass (made mikey look like a weak $5 soldier-boy), patrick the picking and lead guitarist extraordinaire, and I think the last guy on stage was the sound guy… no the third harmonizer may play guitar too… (it was dark and I think I have glaucoma… if I could only grow my meds…) but what sets this band apart is the harmony. Its an old goofy joke, but seriously, somehow, someway pat found a band where his singing adds to the show. It was phenomenal, and emotional. They were so good, it’ll bring a tear to your eye. Well ok mine did, but maybe that was the blue hue in the air too. but I’ll admit it… I’m pat’s biggest fan. Even if I don’t get to see him play ever, I almost don’t have to. He’s that good. (GIMME YER SCHEDULE KIDDO!!!) I was pee’d off at the reunion I didn’t hang outside more than I did to hear him play that banjo…

 Every song was recognizable, like “Renegade” I overheard it was called, but I can’t remember the titles… well, enough to remember now. Pat knows the sets and hmmm maybe if uncle joe was doing his backyard bash you’d all understand what kind of band we had here, I must say I will see them again. And again. And again.

 “A HOT MESS”… I could make a pun here but well, its half how we all came into this world. So I need not to. You could think of it to mean “crazy” and well, this writer has a feelin its gonna come out now:

My night with the family was cut short though unfortunately when I decided I was a bit chilly (icewater will do that) and our formerly wonderful waitress had regretfully for her, me, Patrick, and the rest of ya realized she threw my hat out. It was sitting at the table behind us, so you’d think she’d say “you guys know who’s this is?” but no, she said it had been laying there for a while (by my estimation since around 9pm-presently 11:40pm) so she threw it out. Naturally I was livid, I love my hats, especially the carhartt… so soft, warm, n compfy, ask langan masciulli… but since it was 38 billion below outside I was more pissed than I may have shown… I could have laughner’d her. But I didn’t. I was cordial to her, knowing it was a mistake, said my goodbyes regretfully to the family and pat, and left while they were starting their second set. 

If it weren’t for the other cars and pedestrians I’d have hit 120 down 2^nd st. but I think I grazed 30 between rage fueled red lights. I got home and ripped a new one into my cat for no reason, and immediately apologized to him. He’s a Jackass though and he knows I am too. Even he realized I was too keyed up and peeved to end my night. Then I looked down at the floor and there was the midtown card I had grabbed a few weeks back. To calm my nerves, and to cleanse my soul, I walked to midtown. I had on another hat by then though. I wasn’t a complete idiot. Yet grumbling to myself without a Bluetooth headset in my ear made me look like a schizophrenic so it scared off potential robbers along the way… midtown hbg at night even in frigid weather isn’t what it used to be.

 “Cornlickers”… googled is another name for moonshiners back in the day cause you make it from corn (like ethanol). These guys are from Mississippi and like the Eagles, the drummer is their lead singer. I first heard them play at der mannerchor on a Tuesday night and haven’t missed a performance of theirs yet. Simply for 2 reasons. 1 der mannerchor is not far away and 2 I’d be long dead if it weren’t for old school blues… some people take antidepressants when the alcohol doesn’t work anymore… not me… until I can grow my meds, the best meds ever, I take in blues. I dunno how to describe it but they know how to do it so well, that at the beginning of their set I was crying (how does an awesome night turn into stressful angry night? Ya gotta be a hot mess I guess) but at the end I was smiling. I am always sure to say thanks when I leave them because they don’t know what they do, medicinally, for me. they said they’d be back in feb sometime… if I think about it I’ll shoot out an email.

 There’s something to be said about live music that you just can’t download.

Moral of this story: keep track of your hat on a cold night… no, NO that’s not it… I’m just an idiot and didn’t put it in my coat pocket….

The real moral is this here: see pat’s band, “A HOT MESS” when the email is sent out by aunt mare. They’re awesome, the songs are great, and well, pat rules even if playing on my couch, but on stage you’d think it was Jimmy Page.

 III

turns out its not that bad...

So I am sitting here in the evening and I am running thru my failblog chuckling cause I get me… and this last one struck me funny but for an odd reason…

 On the internet there’s a fad called rickrolling and it involves the never gonna give you up song… rick astley was a redhead or whatever color my tv was turned to that day, and he sang in front of a windy beach all studly and windy. Its an odd video. Can you hear it?

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around and hurt you

Or whatever,,,

Point of this is I was way past that particular fail picture, like 20 seconds, and I realized I had to finish the refrain of the song…. Never gonna make you cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna run around and desert you… or whatever. God love karaoke. (Um, impossible.)

I guess im like eric cartman of south park… he always has to complete that song…

I’m sailing away………..

 Set an open course for the virgin sea,

(Can you hear it? are you finishing it? who's singing it?
you hear cartman or styx? both?)

 What I really wanna know is

Are ya gonna go my way

And I got to got to

help, I need somebody,
Help, not everybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.

 Did your head complete the songs? Did they change in your head?  Did they play in your head or did you just read them…?

sorry my song selection could be one of those "the compilation of awesome" cds, its so cheesy until you're ar a party and "all these great songs come on"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooh give you up.

Maybe its just me…

Song tune memory rules, I just wish I knew the words.

never gonna give
never gonna give

III

ps... give you up.