Clean Fun in Sin City

As we were coming home from seeing Tool, we passed a sign advertising that Steven Wright would be performing at The Orleans Casino last weekend. C-Jane was driving and I said, “Look, Steven Wright will be in-town next week,” but since she knows Karate, she doesn’t have to listen to me anymore.

Later in the week, her parents called, and after she hung up she said, “Hey Big-J, Steven Wright is in town and he’s playing at the Orleans this weekend.”

Nodding I say, “Too bad Ticketbastards took $141 in service charges for $150 dollars’ worth of Tool tickets, otherwise we could afford to see Mr. Wright.”

C-Jane replies, “My parents saw Steven Wright last year, they’re giving us tickets for free!”

Yay! So we saw Steven Wright for free. Here is a 6-minute sample of what we got for 90-minutes. Click here to see.  After watching the clip, it is easy to see why it is so hard to write about this comedian, he is too intense. Needless to say, C-Jane’s favorite joke was ‘I’m writing a book about how the end of the Cold War brought the beginning of Global Warming.”

My favorite joke he told was about seeing a baby at the beach, laying in the sun with a happy smile, and Steven saying to the baby “What are you doing here? You don’t deserve a vacation; you haven’t worked a day in your life.” He motions with his foot as if kicking sand at the baby.

That’s just awful– I’m such a mean spirited person to laugh at such jokes. And that ends my story for the week.

I know, I know, this was a short post. I’m guilty and I haven’t done too much on the Shortbus this month. I’m trying to avoid writing about politics because it makes me so incredibly unhappy. (That is the understatement of the decade.)

Okay, okay, I can’t keep my big mouth shut. Does anyone else notice all the media brain-washing going on, or is it just me? In one word – “Newt.”

Really? Didn’t the Rethuglican Party put him in a cage and bury him for 12-years because we Americans hated his double-standard lies? Now the gluttonous adulterer wants to wear the ‘president hat?’ Really?

Let’s get far away from that subject and find a safer one. One that won’t get me ‘detained indefinitely’ in a Cuban prison for being ‘belligerent’. Everybody does know about that, right? You should learn about it if you don’t know already. Then you’ll see why I cannot talk about politics anymore. “Freedom of Speech”… my ass.

Focusing on the bright side, ever-resourceful C-Jane has acquired two free-quent ‘Flier-Mile’ tickets to Seattle where we can stay with her sister for the high price of free. It is going to rain all week and we are not prepared for such weather – we live in a desert, but when has freezing rain ever hurt anybody? There is hope that we will get out of her sister’s house at least once, brave the blizzards and tear up the town. There might be interesting things to write about when we get back.

If I can post on the road, I will, otherwise I’ll be a little late next week.

Tool Rocked the Mandalay Bay

January 15^th is a special day for me. Having almost died in a stupid car accident, a good friend made the greatest effort to save my life. That is another story that I’ll tell later, what is important is that 25 years ago, I was as good as dead, and now I am not.

As a by-product, I view the 15^th of January with more importance than my birthday, Christmas, and Easter combined. So when I found out Tool, who is among my three favorite bands, was playing at Mandalay Bay Casino on the 15^th of January 2012, I bought my tickets.

Side note, Ticketmaster, you are going to hell, you f***ers! You are not allowed on my shortbus without paying 4x what everyone else is paying to get to your final destination. Two $75 tickets for $291 – you suck and you deserve to burn. From here on out, you will be known here on the Shortbus as Ticketbastard.

So, C-Jane decided to come along even though she isn’t the biggest Tool fan. Among her favorite bands is System of a Down. (As some of you may remember, what happened at that SoaD-show is partly why I needed to delete my entire blog from 2009 to July 2011. I don’t really want to talk about it, there are still very hard feelings – see you in hell, Verizon Wireless.)

Similar to our experience at Verizon Amphitheater, we’d expected Nazi-Gestapo treatment at the Tool show, but to our surprise, Mandalay Bay’s security team was professional and courteous. Getting into the show was not invasive or humiliating like Verizon Amphitheater in Irvine, California made it to be. There was no ‘bend over, we’re gonna see how far we can fit our fists.’ Even the police at Mandalay Bay were politer than the Goose-stepping Irving Wehrmacht.

So we got into the show with fantastic ease and found our seats; the ushers were nice and professional. Soon after came the opening act. I can’t tell you the name of the band, the singer went to the mic and said, “Hey Las Vegas, we’re Muffle-muff-blah!” and then they jammed for about thirty minutes. They seemed the appropriate opening act for Tool, and then at the end, the singer said, “Tool will be out soon, we are Muffle-muff-blah!” and then, they were gone. I shouted, “What did you say?” C-Jane thought he’d said, “Kick-me-not, or Dick-tied-Knot, or Lick of Snot– something like that.”

As promised, Tool showed up promptly after a quick stage re-arrangement. I was impressed with how amazingly humble the musicians appeared as they came out onto stage. Wearing casual blue-jeans and simple shirts– nothing flashy– there was just a simple rock-band showing up to rip some fantastic songs for us to enjoy. Drummer Danny Carey, guitarist Adam Jones, bassist Justin Chancellor – picked up their equipment and started rocking. Vocalist Maynard James Keenan stuck to the shadows for the entire show, his Mohawk a silhouette against the bright backdrop. Keenan hates the spotlight, an artists’ quirk shared with this author.

First song delivered a blazingly accurate performance of ‘Hooker with a Penis,’ one of their older songs working into a smooth transition, transforming into ‘Jambi,’ one of their highest acclaimed songs. As the song ends, Keenan says, “This next song is about fisting” and quickly goes into the song ‘Stinkfist.’ The crowd went wild.

They performed many of their most popular songs, but I was pleased to hear off-songs like ‘Ticks and Leeches,’ and ‘Pushit,’ but I was surprised when they didn’t play ‘H’ ‘Sober’ and ‘Vicarious,’ their three most popular songs, “Vicarious’ being my absolute favorite.

The highlight of the show was an extended play of the 9 and ½ minute song, ‘Lateralus.’ The roadies ran out and built a mini-drum set. From backstage another drummer steps out and started beating some wicked tribal sounds as both drummers went into a percussion rage. Out of nowhere appears a wild-haired Sammy Hagar look-alike whipping out a wicked guitar solo in place of Adam Jones. I don’t have a clue to who he was, but he tore up the stage for about two minutes, then handed Adam’s guitar back and disappeared backstage. The show closed with “aEnema,” a fabulously cynical song about how Mother-Earth needs to flush the filth of L.A. out to sea.

The show’s visuals were incredible and indescribable. I wish I did hallucinogenic mushrooms and could follow Tool on tour like a new-fashioned dead-head, but sadly for the same reason I didn’t support Occupy Wherever, I’m responsible and have a life to lead. We left the show fully satisfied, (even without magic mushrooms) and came home, C-Jane a bigger fan than before.

Bashing Jake Elliot

C-Jane bought this book called ‘The Wrong Way Down’ off a local author named Jake Elliot about a month ago. I haven’t read it yet, she said it was very enjoyable – strong characters, well-developed story, but had a couple editing issues. So, when she read in the local paper that Jake Elliot was having a signing party at a restaurant barely four miles from where we live, she set up a reservation.

This is why I haven’t written anything this week. I thought I’d have a chance to poke fun at a new author. But I’m very sad to say that Jake Elliot diffused any opportunities for me to slap him around from the very beginning.

We entered into Elements Kitchen and Martini Bar. It was an elegant place, but by no means overly pretentious. We were greeted by a well-groomed waiter wearing a black uniform that was clean and looking sharp. He escorted us to our seats where there were name placards reading ‘C-Jane’ and ‘Big-J.’ Shortly after we sat down, a man wearing a dark brown blazer and a nervous smile approached and shook our hands. Admitting he was Jake Elliot, he thanked us for coming. There were around twenty-five other people gathered and he quickly moved to the next guest. A few stragglers came in after us, the party seemed to have around forty people in total.

The hostess appeared and I’m guessing she is the owner of Elements. She proclaimed Jake had been a regular at the restaurant since their opening day. She boldly announced he would be the next best-selling author before turning the floor over to him.

I saw him set his half-empty martini glass down before admitting he hated introducing himself since he was “horribly average and just had a knack with writing.” He said he’d gone to the same school as Tolstoy, Twain, and Poe, and like them, had never finished his degree. He then boasted that his novel was off to a good start and was at the bottom of Amazon’s 1.2 million best-sellers list, but his Kindle sales were through the roof at just beneath the rank of half-millionth author.

I decided I liked him right then.

Then appetizers came, Spanish Meatballs accompanied with Curried Vegetables in Purse Pastries. The meatballs were a blend of veal and pork, so I ate C-Jane’s entire share. I did not love the curried vegetables, but C-Jane did, so we were both very satisfied. As we were finishing the appetizers, we received a glass of wine (I forgot the name, sorry) and a Martini shot called ‘The Root of All Evil.’

I’m not sure why ‘the root of all evil,’ but they said it was fitting to the book. It was to be used for a toast by Jake Elliot, who omitted himself and toasted the entire restaurant, praising the entire staff but focusing on the back waiter as being among the best in the city. He thanked pirates for not attacking the restaurant (What? Pirates! Where!) He also toasted some kid for being the only under-age person to crash his signing party. We drank our Root of All Evil, which was a sweet, root beer flavored martini – it was very refreshing.

Salads came next. Mixed-greens drizzled with house-made vinaigrette, simple and tasty. Mr. Elliot spoke about his book. The book stars a strong-willed priestess whose ambition lacked wisdom, the core reason for the title, ‘The Wrong Way Down.’  He said what made the book unique was that the main antagonist of his first book was also a woman– a foul-mouthed thief.

Then he read a few pages, his selection being a conversation between the thief and the priestess wherein the thief quickly figures out that she is being taken to a military garrison to ultimately be tortured. It was a great selection for a read, and in a very short time I found myself intrigued by his characters.

Dinner was next, Pork Osso Buco with Crab-Stuffed Flounder. Surf and turf!!! The pork fell right off the bone, it was fantastic! I didn’t love the flounder, but C-Jane did. I traded my fish for her pork loin.

Before dessert we got another reading. This time he explained that one of his characters was a sorcerer and that he’d had a hard time deciding what to name the character, so he called him wanker, until he could come up with a suitable name. C-Jane and I both thought that was a funny fact to tell. The next selection he read was Popalia the priestess getting her butt-kicked by the thief, and the sorcerer saving her from getting beat to death. It was brutal, exciting and believable. I’d wished I’d had some cash on me– I’d have bought a book.

Dessert was a small platter with Red-Velvet Cake, a Mint Cheese Cake, and an Apple Strudel. The only thing missing was a big scoop of ice cream for the strudel. The Cheese Cake was amazing– very soon; we’re going back to Elements to get more.

C-Jane got her book signed by a frazzled looking Jake Elliot. He has the worst hand-writing ever, but inside C-Jane’s book, it says, “Thank you for the courage to join my party, Jake Elliot.”

Dear Donald Trump

Dear Donald Trump,

I’d like to start this by saying, “I have nothing against you.” I don’t blame you one bit for abandoning the Republican Presidential Candidate Race. Although, I must also say I don’t understand why you sided with them in the first place. Maybe you thought you could beat all the Repubs and give President Obama a run for his granted StateFarm/Aflac/Pfizer money?

Here is a little wisdom Mr. Trump, from a man whose debts are under $1000 bucks.

When I was in high school, there was this guy who thought he was really cool. He was so cool that he decided that if he hung out with a bunch of losers, he’d look even cooler. Nope, he became a loser by association. I realize by eating dinners at a cost per plate more than most people make in a week, sitting elbow to elbow with people like Herman Cain, Gomer Perry, and the Bachman Twins, it must have made you think you could easily take the presidency from those fools. You were right, but it doesn’t change the fact that we all saw you hanging out with the little clique of losers, having a taste from a plastic American ass.

Notice I’ve said nothing about Ron Paul. This is because Ron Paul is cooler than you. He successfully manipulated the Repub Party to get him more air time, but he doesn’t party with the dumb Fascists. Sure, he is crazy, but unlike you, he isn’t out-of-control in debt like you’ve been. The difference between him and you is we all like Ron Paul. Ron Paul has integrity and he could beat Obama. Seriously, Mr. Trump, you’re not going to take any votes away from President Obama. In fact, you are nothing but a celebrity carbon of Mitt Romney — but with more colorful language skills, and absent of the religious background.

We all agree you are a fabulous opportunist, and have successfully accrued an ugly debt no different from the rest of our corrupted government, but “We the People” are sick of that type of ‘management.’ So as the self-proclaimed ‘Nobody of the People,’ I ask you to just go back to doing what you do best, and keep your pretend business on T.V. where you can fire people without access to nuclear weapons.

Sincerely,

Big J

PS, Now that we have bonded, can I call you Donny T?

Re-Post Christmas

(This is a re-post from 2009, sort of.  Again, I was so bitter and resentful before publication that I’m sanding down all the nasty barbs that were on it, but at the heart of it all is a really good CHRISTmas story.)

I feel a tremendous resistance to writing this post.  Perhaps I’m just unsure how to start it.  On the other hand, maybe it is shame.  You see, I went to church on Christmas Eve.  There, I said it.  Yes, I the agnostic went to church, but it isn’t my fault.

I blame C-Jane.  She is Christian, and a good one at that. She has convinced me that by helping other people, I am in-turn helping myself. It isn’t hard to fathom that when we help to build another’s life, fate might be there to help build our own– even if it is reluctantly.

Some people (Darren) think that as an agnostic, I hate Christ, but this is not the case—I just hate most of his not-even-close followers. Oftentimes, C-Jane amazes me with her interpretation of Biblical text.  It is as if she sees the story as it was meant to be, and not what it has been made into.  It is one out of many reasons why I wanted her as my wife.

I didn’t put up much of a fight about going to church on Christmas Eve. It was part of our ‘marriage contract’ that I’d endure church on Easter and Christmas. Of course I went begrudgingly, but quietly, knowing I’d signed the contract with my blood.  Believe me; it doesn’t stop me from acting like a well dressed cactus. The pastor acts surprised to see me, but he saw me sign the contract, so drop the act dude.

They all sing some songs.  Not me.

They sing Christmas songs that I know the tune, but realize I don’t know the lyrics.  O Holy Night being one of the songs sung. There was also Silent Night.  And then my mind begins to wander like it always does at church, ‘Really? Do you all believe ‘Mary’ was a virgin?” I am stumped by this thought and miss most of the sermon.

It is these little things that make it impossible for me to become a Christian. I wonder what really happened when the Christ was born.  Did ‘Mary’ really get the heads up from Gabriel?  Was it really a star that led the shepherds to the manger where our Savior lay as a baby?  I believe in miracles, but I see them as mathematical improbabilities, not factual impossibilities.

But through all my doubts and uncertainties, I hear something for the very first time.  “And God so loved the world as to give his only son…” In the hundred-thousand times I’d heard this told to me from Southern Baptists (who manipulate the Bible for their own agenda) in Texas. For the first time EVER, I realize that this phrase is about the Christ’s birth, and not about his death.

I had always been told by Christians I can’t stand, that this scripture was about God sacrificing his own kid. Last Christmas Eve, I heard it for its truer meaning.  The Pastor sent the message strong with the next verse, “for He did not come to condemn the world, but to save it.”

And I left thinking, ‘Wow, what a cool idea.  A church that actually thinks God likes us.’