It's A Rad, Rad, Rad, Rad World
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Denver...part 2. (A post made 7 months later.) 2/22/2008 10:58 AM We last left our heroes striding across the tarmac before departing the now powerless General Mitchell field. Winging our way westward to Red Rocks Colorado to see Rush. The significance of the trip, you ask? When this tour started and I was still warming to the Snakes & Arrows album and since we had seen Rush in nearly every locale in the Wisconsin and Illinois bi-state area. Time to shake it up. We’ve been afforded a modicum of success in life and its time to feed the Colorado economy with the thirty to forty dollars that a Jared and Norb can bring to the area. The band has said on several occasions that Red Rocks is one of the favorite American locales to play. There is history with me and Red Rocks as well. One of the first “live” things I saw as a young torn jean rocker was “U2 – Live at Red Rocks”. The video is gothic in its look. Fires burn from atop the outcroppings. Rain and steam combine for effect to make some awesome footage. It made me want to be in a band for images alone. I even remember the quotes vividly the pretty but ditzy girl (obviously a girlfriend dragged to the show)…”It’s great…the rains great.” Then the typical U2 fan…bandana tied pirate style over his head. “I hear it rains a lot in Ireland so I hope they can relate.” But that’s the past we are in the now. The first thing you’ll learn about landing at the Denver airport you’ll be surprised that it is nowhere NEAR Denver. I would be surprised if it is actually IN Colorado. I think we may have landed in Nebraska and taxied to the Denver Airport from there. After about 2 days of taxi-ing we arrive at the gate. Far later than expected but we are elated to be IN Denver. One of the initial ideas was that we “road trip”, to drive across the American landscape! I labeled this plan quickly as the “Operation: dumbest fucking thing”. We were short on time. Only 3 days had been scheduled. Now technically it could be done. But it would mean driving non stop to Colorado for 1 day…seeing the show…not sleeping…getting in the car and driving straight back. To say I hated this plan is to say that Custer kind of had a problem with the Indians. What happens if the car breaks down in some backwater Nebraska town or worse yet some backwater road? I ensured that if that did happen I would be serving hourly portions of “I told you so” and nobody wants that. So it was decided…thankfully that we’d jet. So anyway… We arrive in Denver and making our way to the Rental Car Counter. To me Rental Car Counters are a lot like MySpace… Same hell but different circle. Since I do travel I don’t want to generalize and say that rental car agents are morons. The sheer statistics make that impossible. There has to be at least 1 or 2 of them out there that have an IQ over 78. But it’s not happening today. My agent speaks in a tone that is at best inaudible. He mumbles something about insurance. I feel as stupid as the guy with the bad tie behind the counter. Now my brain searches…“Do you ALWAYS get it? Or is it that you NEVER get it? Am I thinking of the Best Buy Service plan? Why the hell did we consider driving out here? I’m starving…I could eat that tie and not think twice about it.” Focus has never been my strong point. I glance at Norb for acknowledgement on whether to get the insurance. He’s mesmerized by the guys tie as well. I may have to fight him for it if I want to eat it. We both say “well…we are going to a concert.” We decide to go with caution and also to be able to drive with reckless abandon throughout Denver. It’s unsaid but we both already know we’ll be beating the hell out of whatever mid-sized sedan they assign us. We walkthrough the rental lot looking for our car. We’ve been assigned the car in space “B-46”. But B-46 is empty. Norb: What space did he say?” Me: “B-46”. Norb: “What’s the key say?” Me: “B-46. The car is not here” Norb: “Or it’s invisible.” Me: “I didn’t ask for an invisible car.” We reach forward and wave our hands through the space checking for invisibility. No…the car is definitely not there. We stride back into the agency. “Bad tie” sees us incoming and points a manager towards us who is about 20% George Jefferson and 80% Barry White. “Is there a problem with your car?” he says in a wonderfully low and sonorous tone that I’m sure was heard by whales. “Aside from its non-existence. No.” George/Barry doesn’t laugh and thankfully Norb does. He sets out to get us another car. Now “car” can be a vague term. The definition can fit many different images. Some think a Cadillac or perhaps and image of a sports car. 15 minutes later we are clearing the parking lot in… A mini-van. A we are going to see Rush. Wall of sound and musical intensity in…a mini-van. Of course its roomy but that’s not the point! As we rolled off Norb mentioned our marriages being safe because no single woman is going to come with in a mile of this car. I can feel the inner teenager dying slowly. We gave in to George/Barry mostly for want to be away from this car rental office. In approaching our middle age we fall away from the conventions of “cool” and rather round to “available” and “good enough”. We ARE now starving and desperate to get to our hotel. It takes us an additional hour to drive there. We passed at least 2 planes taxi-ing in from Nebraska and 1 invisible car. After checking in without incident we decide to hit up the local BW3’s. We want to do the right thing in the face of imminent drinking so I call for a cab. They state it will be at least 45 minutes to get us. No way, I’ll stay sober long before waiting any longer to eat. We end our evening with full bellies of wings and in the air cooled comfort of the mini van. But the adventure is just starting…in days to come there will be a mine collapse, Norb will frighten a grandfather and his grandchildren from a public bath room and we’ll meet two of the most influential people in our lives…Kevin DeLange and Banjo-man. Strike one 2/2/2008 9:56 PM I know you all have been waiting…sitting on the edge of your theater seats wondering how we here at Radworld feel about the writers strike. Why I was just watching an interview with George Clooney and he didn’t say it but he seemed to have “a look” about him that said it. So I thought I’d take this time to address it. Go back to work. Why? Take a lesson from any of the high profile strikes before baseball, hockey, baseball again. Let me tell you something about a majority of us, the common man/woman who don’t get paid to think of gems like “White Chicks” or “27 Dresses”. We really don’t care. You’re getting to do what a majority of us dream and those that don’t dream it would welcome it versus waiting tables, slinging papers or shoveling dirt. I’ve read the arguments for the strike and what the writers want. They aren’t unreasonable but going on strike was a mistake. Because when we thumb through the People or turn on E! at night we see Eva Longoria buying this faceless group of writers pizza and sandwiches while the cast of the office hold witty strike signs and we realize that at this dark and hard time for the writers your lives are still a lot better than ours. Baseball should have showed you that we’ll find something else to do. You’ve had a warning sign for the last few years that bright red flashing light on the dashboard that says “Reality TV”. The networks know it…throw some celebrities into any stupid situation so that we have something to talk about on Monday morning instead of actually having to communicate with the drone in the cube next us. We’ll get used to whatever is offered. In the days of yore they would have shows of bears and dogs fighting. Now we’ll watch Gene Simmons sell hot dogs for an hour and think its REALLY good. Internet, DVD’s and maybe family. Will nicely wrap up our days. Talk to baseball about getting people to come back after a long strike. See how well that worked for them. People get used to doing something else and then when it does come back they wonder for a good long while what they ever saw in it in the first place. Even after this is done there will probably be at least another 6-9 months before new shows and movies will be available while everything gets ramped up. I used to be a union kind of guy in my youth but the years have shown me that most unions first concern is their own profits through dues from their members and their members protection takes a backseat if its even allowed to ride in the car at all. These unions are as corrupt as the management they fight and what will they want from higher wages and better benefits…a bigger taste of those dues. Well I’ve offended the labor unions, Hollywood writers and Eva Longoria. I think I’ll call it night. Floridays 1/24/2008 10:42 AM I know I owe you the readers of Rad World many a post. Things have been going on and I will be sharing. I still have to finish my Tale of Colorado and Banjo man. Thanks for hanging round. Big doings this week. Headed to Florida for some I&I (idiocy and irritation). This stolen from myself about Florida. Florida is my best friend from high school. A little bit of an asshat now but we have history and I love him. When the hard times hit Wisconsin in January and February and I haven't seen the sun in half a month. Florida recharges me and makes it possible to go home and not have to kill some one. I like visiting but I could NEVER live there. Some of the worst driving I've seen is in Florida. Granted that a majority of the bad drivers are either tourists or moved there from out of state. As I drive on its freeways doing 50 mph in the left lane feeling my life ebb away as I follow a parade of cars for the next 30 miles. Eating there is a see saw. You can never get a brunch or breakfast in a timely manner because the old ones have been out since dawn. However, its rare that I walk into any restaurant after 6 and have to hate. God love you Early bird special. The government is rife with corruption that is exposed at the times good government is needed the most. The state has an abundance of artists, writers and musicians and the atmosphere is ripe for inspiration. I've had a lot of fun in Florida...I just don't want it at my house every weekend. |