Buck City Podcast 2 has arrived! Check out the latest rage in downloadable media. You can click and download the MP3. Better yet, install ipodder, then add the RSS feed:
http://nlbelardes.com/buckcitypods/buckcitypodcast.rss
After you plug in the feed you will get automatic downloads as shows get updated. Oh yes! In Episode Two I play “Don’t Hold Your Breath” from World Wide Spies, “Pay to Play” by Bakersfield/LA band, The Binges, “Laundry Day” from Bakersfield band Stepsonday, “I know” by the fabulously sexy Jessie Deluxe and a classic 80s batcave style punk song by local 80s band Burning Image titled “Hives”.
You'll also meet N.L.’s boring girlfriend, Joyce, and a very poor reader in local singer Pablo Esquival… And if that isn't enough, listen to how N.L. broke up the band, Broken Record Gospel!
Be a part of the podcast revolution. It’s free, it’s high-tech, and we’re the first in Bakersfield to create podcasts. And if that isn’t enough, coming soon will be the super brief Buck City “Morning Cereal” meant specifically to be a morning show for your daily pick-me-up.
Find Brent at Bite Me Cookies in the Haberfelde...
I recently discovered a Christian hard rock band that isn’t getting enough coverage even in the Christian sector… It’s a band called Rockfish, and after spinning their CD “Have you heard the news” I am convinced these guys need to tour local churches to develop a following. Yes, I understand you have to evangelize the heathens if you’re a Christian rock band. But you have to develop a following. And, lots of heathens go to church anyways. You can always count on friends bringing friends and so forth. And then, Whammy, work ‘em with your musack, Rockfish!
With that said, bass player Brent Hicks is a follower of the local music scene. I saw him at the Vendetta Red show where Lostocean jammed to a big crowd. Yes, Brent and his Christian cohorts are all old timers, but so what? Their Jimi Hendrix style is amazing. And they're cool... Brent also makes a mean tri-tip sandwich over at Bite Me Cookies in the Haberfelde building. I should add I get a lot of vanilla Cokes there too (friends will notice I refused to use the ‘P’ word).
If you’re part of a local church or other venue and you want a hard rocking Christian band to come and play, then please contact me and I will get the word over to Brent. Or better yet, go to Angelina’s and you will find him. It’s in the same downtown building as Going Underground Records…
(Hey Brent, you guys need to be on 'MySpace'!)
I was downtown last night first bumping elbows with Jimmy Holliday beneath the big Padre shadow. “We practice in a loft inside the Padre,” he said later in the evening. So, anti-folk hero Jimmy Holliday tears it up with the ghosts of the old Hollywood hangout? There, stars once lurked in the big Tinseltown backyard to creep their decrepit glamorous longings for the strange Bakersfield streets, and high society of the grand lone giant hotel of 1930s yesteryear…
In the Wall Street alley the doors to Azul were closed. I had gone back home to write a quick blog and poem but eventually headed back downtown only to find Francis Mayer from the local underground newspaper, The Blackboard as he met Danielle Belton, entertainment writer and blogger for the Bakersfield Californian. What a strange meeting of media: novelist/blogger meets underground reporter meets Entertainment creative writer/reporter…
“What kind of writing do you do?” I heard one of them say as I approached. I had gone downtown to see Jimmy Holliday and to also be interviewed by Francis Mayer who was researching for an upcoming write-up that either he or some other contributing writer was going to pen.
“I like the new template,” Belton complimented about the Blackboard's latest look. “One of the jokes that used to go around the Californian was that folks over at the Blackboard were afraid of the return key… There were just big blocks of text.” Oh come on Danielle. Don't tell me the Californian pokes fun. I don't believe it. But then, Danielle is funny. She has a drippingly sarcastic sense of humor that many people don't get. And she's one of the most self-abusive writers I have ever known. She's like Dobby from Harry Potter who is always smacking himself in the head for just talking to the Wizard boy wonder.
Francis pointed out the Blackboard being a one-man show by an untrained reporter who has a strong love for putting out an underground paper. Although I don’t know much about the history of the Blackboard paper, you have to give them credit for putting out some good alternative reading from big brother Californian who has monopolized the local newspaper biz for years. I personally like the progressive share-the-traffic attitude the Californian has taken in recent months. It’s self-serving on both sides as nlbelardes.com gets traffic as does the Californian, and I don’t get my content managed. Everyone wins.
I think that conversation moved on just after Danielle completely tore apart baseball, especially the St. Louis Cardinals who recently graced her top 20 'you suck' list...
The Blackboard meets The Californian "Let's have tea and crumpets!"
We went inside for a brief bit. Danielle showed off a pen-and-ink drawing after talking to Francis, Alex and AJ. I schmoozed with Jimmy Holliday a bit… and heard that Belton refers to Alex and Aj of Gigantic as Hall and Oates… read this great write-up she did on The boys from Gigantic, Azuls, Dante Esperanza, Nunez, and more...
Francis and I took a long walk around several city blocks, eventually stopping on the steps of the downtown post office to have a talk about some of the goings-on in the music scene…
In the end we headed back to Azul’s where we stood outside and some kids thought they had to show IDs before they entered. Francis patiently took the time to put on his best I'm-a-bouncer-but-not-really-pose before looking at about four IDs, nodding approval to each while I stymied a laugh. He kept a good poker face through it all. Afterwards, I went and listened to Jimmy Holliday for a while. After his performance we talked about a hockey song called ‘Lil Bitty Johnny the Slasher’ while we could hear some guy name Nunez play a guitar on the patio…
In ending I should add I had a great conversation with Joseph and Jenny from Calico Sunset... another hidden Bakersfield wonder... I still feel bad I missed them the night before. We talked about their tour, their music, history and novels...
There he was...
waiting for the bus.
No he wasn't. He's Jimmy Holliday
Wanting to sing a song about the anti-man,
the anti-song, the anti-people who can,
the dreamers who can't.
There goes the Padre, City Father,
a reckless dead martini bar tower,
and Jimmy Holliday needing
legends to sing about...
That was a few minutes ago.
In another few I'll be back downtown at Azul's...
You goin'?
I just got off the phone with JR. He was watching The Goonies. Can you believe this guy? He was watching one of my favorite movies of all time and didn’t invite me?? OK, next topic. Montgomery World Plaza. Gigantic. You know, that vintage clothing store that got run out of Dodge because they were actually helping create a music scene? They got intimidated by the alleged baseball bat of poor consciousness, then set up shop across town. Leave it to Alex and AJ of Gigantic, those two guys who never email me, to put on a great all-age shows with dozens of kids in attendance.
Granted this show had some youth bands. Give the youth credit. You have to start somewhere, and you have to have guys like Alex and AJ believe in you enough to give you a chance to put on a show. I saw some serious youth in action, and I took a bunch of photos to show off the youth who are working hard.
 
 
Unfortunately I missed New Wave duo Calico Sunset. I was outside doing an interview so missed out on their brief set. Why didn’t anyone come and get me? No pictures, no interview, no nothing… When I was outside I thought I heard Bjork playing over the sound system. Little did I know it was the sexy sounds of Jenny Alvis whose song “limbs and hymns” has been infecting the positive vibe of myspace. That’s two New Wave bands in two days, and Your Mother’s Lover is playing in Bakersfield at the Boiler Room on the 30th (this Thursday). New Wave is officially back in a retro sort of synth-pop fashion. I just listened to Jenny sing, “Makes me wanna, want to pow pow pow!” like she’s some cartoon anime hip mama animated and flying through the room. I love it. Go check out the Bad Spellers in Tokyo for a little more synth-pop action. Likely influenced by the melodious synth-backed sounds of the ever-so moody, Bjork, Calico Sunset is quite a duo. I’m hoping they slip me a CD… Since I’m a big Bjork fan, how can I not like Jenny and Joseph of Calico Sunset’s New Wave stylings?
Alternative Country in Bakersfield is on the rise with bands like Norfolk, Dante Esperanza and anti-folkster Jimmy Holliday’s Sioux City Sarsaparilla both reflecting the agricultural lands and country roots of the Great Central Valley. Jimmy Holliday was on his own Monday night as he performed an acoustic set of all new material. His raw screaming and lyric-building talents apparent in his songwriting is an anthem to the sarcasm built within the legendary nature of Bakersfield history. These are folk roots working in an anti-root sort of way that Holliday performs masterfully. He’s got a 20-song CD coming out soon that I can’t wait to get my hands on, and he promises a big CD by the end of summer. I should also mention that Holliday is recognized on antifolk.net.
Though Holliday’s got recognition from anti-folk organizations he doesn’t have the support from local venues that he deserves. I hear he can’t play at the Boiler Room, but I see him fitting in nicely in an all ages alt country show there. He and I talked briefly about how alt country is a wide open market in Bakersfield. There aren’t many country bands. There aren’t many rockabilly bands; and there are only three bands that I know of that I can slip into the alt country category, and each has a completely different style. Norfolk with its pop rocking country-based sounds, Dante Esperanza with its 60s flavor of psychedelic cowboy tunes, and Jimmy Holliday's Sioux City Sarsaparilla. His anti-folk anthems often get mislabeled as hilarious without recognizing the underlying truths and social sarcasm of his lyrics.
His new songs slowed the pace a little, have a little firmer ground, less ethereal with the sarcasm, and even got a little sad at times with his guitar playing dropping to a mere hum and his voice trailing to a whisper at times.
If you haven’t noticed, I mentioned another band that many of you may not have heard of. Today I listened to a 16-song CD of incredible alt country tunes; the CD is self-titled, Dante Esperanza (2005) and I listened to it twice and spread some of its love to some friends already. It’s a masterful CD that deserves full N.L. analysis. In the meantime I can say that the psychedelic cowboy tunes are a crooning techno-country tribute to experimental country-influenced sounds of growing up in Bakersfield, California. Yes, here, where country roots run deep, so do countryside themes of agriculture, oil poke towns, desert, and travels.
Their music is an enlightening trip and well educated in lyric-making for such young folk. True genius. Though their live performance didn’t add up to the great CD mix I listened to, they’re an up and coming band that I’m going to be paying close attention to. Hell, the kids in Lostocean have complete genius in their CD ‘Douse the Choir’ but still have struggling points while performing live. But then, isn’t that what performing is all about? Learning. Spreading the sounds. Acceptance… Dante Esperanza is an excellent up-and-coming band who deserve some community support from fellow bands so their atmospheric country-pop crooner tunes can truly reach people while performing…
Dante Esperanza and Jimmy Holliday are playing live tonight at Azul's at 9PM
I was in one of those Bakersfield Bukowski moods: a bit dreary; wanting to fit into the shadows like a little grey-edged puzzle piece; gloomy in my moment, but fitting. I had spoken a bit with Ryan Bright of Seven to the Right out near the entrance to Downtown Records. He smoked like crazy and talked about loaning The Binges something to do with his bass. He talked about Seven to the Right having a crazy show the night before at Kosmos, where everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Still in a dark mood, I wandered into Rileys, the night of a big imported show in the big Bakersfield Indie scene—here in the new age of Bakersfield shows, when posters won’t get ripped down from lightpoles. Heck, just down the street I saw a huge poster printed by none other than promoter, Zill DeVille.
Inside I sat at a table and watched a few guys linger near a pool table with their equipment. I was in a dismal mood, growing darker by the second. I had a bottle of pear cider and still felt cranky. Maybe that’s because it’s the weak beer everyone tells me I'm drinking. Soon Leslie Flores walked up. She talked to me about the Indie music scene and rattled off name after name of bands she loves down in LA. She even told me a little bit of Bakersfield drama that I’m not allowed to post just yet. Colin from Broken Record Gospel was also in the house. He’s the Rileys sound guy. I spoke with him a moment, but still felt a little grey haze of a melancholy night ahead of me.
That was until a few folks from Norfolk wandered into Rileys. Peter Prevost has a bright charm, a true excitement for music that energizes people around him. We talked alternative country for a while. “You know, Pablo might still not be convinced that we’re an alt country band,” he said.
“But you’re buying a steel guitar,” I added. That crazy Pablo. I’ll convince him yet. He’s a madman playing the Tom Petty covers. We all called Peter Prevost ‘Tom Peety’ during Saturday night’s show where Norfolk finished off their rocking alt country set with some incredible covers...
We talked a bit more about it, but then James and his wife Marisa entered the scene and we had a grand conversation. Suddenly my spirits were lifted and I was into the night anticipating the music like I should have all along. Leave it to a novelist to start feeling moody and dark and then snap out of it. And leave it to good friends to lift those spirits of darkness. Leslie Flores came back and I asked who was setting up in the stage area. “Oh that’s World Wide Spies,” she smiled.
I had to meet those guys. I had just played their song “Individual” on my world premiere Buck City Podcast. I went over and introduced myself for a quick “hello.” I met all of their members but their lead singer, JFK. He came over and greeted me a little while later. “What are your ambitions,” I asked.
“I’m a rock star. People just don’t know it yet,” he said in a heavy British accent. “I’m just doing what I am destined to do. I believe in making it, in being successful.”
I totally agreed. I told him that I’m an artist too, that I have to believe in myself as a novelist or won’t ever be successful either. James and I talked about whether JFK really had a British or Australian accent. Of course I said British and JFK corrected us that he was was British, but from London…
World Wide Spies is one of my favorite undiscovered bands. They’re part Psychedelic Furs, part early U2, and part Big Country all wrapped up in a New Wave band with a brand new retro sound. I can’t help that I’m a child of the 80s. I totally bonded with their melodic New Wave sounding riffs, steady bass-playing and passionate vocals. JFK has a forceful presence on and off the stage. He had all the comandeering prowess of a Bono/Bowie fusion. He sings with a song-making confident yell that I just don’t hear in a lot of bands. It’s very intoxicating, very convincing. I tend to be a little shy around the stars-to-be, but JFK sure had a presence Sunday night with his piercing eyes, short blonde hair and strongly passionate voice. The guys from Norfolk gave their thumbs up and commented on the perfection of the drummer. They even had a song that started out as Sunday Bloody Sunday but then transformed into a unique song with the World Wide Spies stylings of fast melodic riffs and near-militaristic drum beats.
I have already spun their CD three times… I’m going to be doing a full review in a future blog as their CD’s raw New Wave power deserves a closer look…
At about that time I went outside for a little while. I hardly ever go into the Wall Street alley anymore, so it was kind of strange to go into the old alley where part of The Citrus Girl novel took place. I talked it up with some musicians while a police car cruised the alley and some BPD flirted with a group of girls. The girls played with the side light and mirrors while we just rolled our eyes and talked music.
Jesse Deluxe was up next. She came from LA on a birthday night with The Binges to play some mad jams to the Bakersfield crowd. I admit I was a bit skeptical as Jessie Deluxe is a three-piece band with two lovely ladies and a bald guy on drums. Then maybe that was a carryover from my Bakersfield Bukowski dark mood. Who am I to go stereotyping any band? Jessie, who the band is named for, sure has a presence. She’s tall and domineering, with dark hair and eyes, big dimples and a confident smile.
When Jessie Deluxe started playing, something transformed in Rileys. The whispering started, “Hey, she can shred!” and then the loud talking, “Hey, she can sing! She’s better than Gwen Stefani, but with a guitar.” And, “ This is the best band to ever play Rileys!” And so on, and so on… Yes, Jessie Deluxe was loved by the Bakersfield crowd. I went forth and snapped a few pictures to record such a moment…
What an amazing night. Two bands loved by the good people of Bakersfield… I have to admit, Jessie Deluxe has a refreshing soft edge to their hard star-struck songs. Yes, Jessie is a rock star and she knows it. But there is a humble side to musicians who truly want to connect to people through music and I saw it even in her hard-rocking songs. She could sing. She could play. She was almost melancholy herself at times as she performed and perhaps wondered about herself, her music, everything spinning just then in her own Bakersfield Bukowski artistic moment…
Of course I didn’t help when I called her ‘Jenny’, perhaps thinking of Jenny Angel of the Dusk Devils. I came across like a moron who didn’t care about her music and not like a fellow artist who was just touched by rhythms, bass lines and drum beats by a band who just took Bakersfield Indie music and turned it on a hard rock edge…
The final band of the night had a celebration in its midst, Jan Dylan Geurtsen. Bakersfield birthday boy moved to LA to seek stardom in a big rock and roll band; he and the rest of The Binges were in town to rock the night at Rileys. Maybe I sound too positive here, but this was one of the best nights of music I have ever witnessed in Bakersfield where all three bands in a row had an incredible power over all the fans in the house. Normally Bakersfield fans come in waves as each band has a following. But not World Wide Spies, Jessie Deluxe and The Binges. These were all new bands to me... As for The Binges, I found myself carried away on their new hard rock blood-pumping riffs that were like Punk meets AC/DC meets The Killers meets Bakersfield angst and Asian sexiness.
The Binges had the crowd rocking hard. Dylan has a great AC/DC kind of smoldering voice, while Mayuko Okai’s lead guitar and back-up vocals just fueled Dylan’s birthday fire to an incredible level. If you don’t believe me, just go check out a song on their site. Heck Mayuko’s sister is a great bass player in Jessie Deluxe. Like Jessie said when introducing Tzusumi Okai, “Big things come in small packages.” She was right, for Jessie Deluxe and The Binges. These are two rocking sisters!
The Binges are a Bakersfield/LA band that’s going somewhere if they play their cards right. I think they have just the sound that the LA record labels are looking for. I will be surprised if they don’t become one of the next sensations out of Bakersfield and LA…
What an incredible, incredible, incredible hard rocking night in the Bakersfield Indie scene… thank you Rileys, Leslie, Colin…
Hey NL, What's going on in your corner? As I mentioned before, sort of candidly, we have had to make a difficult decision. In talking to label representatives for several different companies, I have been made aware of how hard it is to break into the big music scene. As everyone here in Bako knows, we are not exactly spring chickens and we have an extremely small window of opportunity to work with here. We have decided ( collectively ) to make a change in our family with RIDIKULE. Our drummer, Martin, is stepping down from the drum riser and we have recruited a new member to our family. His name is R.J. and he is 22. He has great appreciation for Martin and respect. What everyone needs to keep in mind is that we didn't just decide to replace Martin, we made a business decision that benefits the band as a whole. We will miss him on stage, but he will still have a part in the band as far as a mentor and to contribute his knowledge. This is extremely hard for us to do, but RIDIKULE as a whole has outgrown any one member and we need to keep the momentum going. We will be playing all of our shows that are scheduled and we will be doing future shows. As of today you can also pick up our merchandise at Outer Limits in the downtown area at 2006 Chester ave. We are proud to have them as our sponsor. You can catch R.J.'s first show at Mongomery World Plaza on July 14th with The Filthies, The Politicians and Hit bya A Semi. Thanks for your support and your coverage of all the happenings in Bako. Chris and Ridikule
I went to the Boiler Room Saturday night looking for some music to bubble out of the Bakersfield darkness. Little did I know I showed up for a historic night of music that had as its apex Bakersfield’s alt country band, Norfolk. They were being followed by Sara Gettys, a budding photo-essayist whose work for the Portland Tribune and Columbia Missourian has won her accolades for her moody journalistic images of daily Americana. Will she be the next James Nachtwey?
Sara sitting on the floor...
Take a look at her ‘photo of the week’ that captures the melancholy nature of one woman’s twilight years, or Maurice the cat who was likely her college buddy while going to school in Missouri. Two of my favorite photos are her WWF photo and honorable mention image that is probably as moody and atmospheric as the church moment she captured.
Sara carried a Holga toy camera, a fully plastic camera that has a personality like a cat. No two are alike as they leak light into each picture you snap. With a plastic lens, the Holga offers a leap backward in technology while offering some funky image textures, light seepage and lens shadowing. I have to order one.
I arrived at the Boiler Room at the end of Stepsonday, a local jazz/Indie/rock band. Jason Ford Turner fronts the band and is quite fun to watch as he loves to goof around while singing and playing the guitar. He’s a bit more reserved in his Norfolk bass playing. Unfortunately I only caught a portion of a few songs…
The next band hailed from the LA area. I don’t know who they were, but they performed and sounded like a youthful pop group. They were young, energetic, yuppyish, and if I were scouting bands to throw on Radio Disney, these would be the guys. And that’s not a bad thing either. Poppy songs for kids are a big industry. Just look at how many kids love the yuppie youth bands of today… The lead singer said he was from Bakersfield but moved away when he was five. And I dug his Star Wars shirt even though he thought the audience was dead because they weren’t dancing as if parading down Main Street, Disney.
Cedar Street is a local band I had never seen until Saturday night. Composed of guys from Bakersfield and San Diego who are all in Bakersfield for the summer, they have a unique piano-driven sound with a whole lot of raw songs they’re developing. This was the perfect opportunity for them to get out in the scene and practice in front of the local crowd. I always find it impressive to see a piano in a band. Front man Bryan Gonzales is no slouch either. He belted out the songs and melodies and played a lengthy set to the Boiler Room crowd.
Norfolk played a great set. James Ratliff did a little storytelling about his new Dodger cap and why baseball is a sport where you watch grass grow. He promised to tell a ‘biting’ dog tale, but sadly never got to it. Sara Gettys snapped photos like some crazed tentacled beast. Three cameras but only two hands? How does she do it? I have enough problems with my one camera and a shaky hand.
Norfolk’s full alt country sounds really grabbed the crowd. But then they only played half of one of their songs, claiming it was for some guy in the crowd. It was a great slow country wail of a song that really slows the tempo and gets the crowd on track. But only half? Come on Norfolk… Ah, but whom am I? I’m just the whiny novelist who wants to hear all the Norfolk material when at a show. I can understand how someone would get sick of their own songs. I get sick of my own writing all the time. I’ve written entire novels that I don’t like to read. I generally don’t read them at all even after finished. I create the art for others to read, not for myself. Music is different. You perform it, you immerse yourself in it over and over again, even after you think it’s perfected. And so you have to keep finding ways to love it. Or you would never be able to perform.
I was sarcastic and tried joking around and telling the guy with the big nose who told Norfolk to stop playing their slow song “thanks for ending a great song.” But he wouldn’t talk to me, even after I trailed Norfolk to a lonely bar attached to Zingo’s diner on Buck Owen’s Boulevard.
There James Ratliff and I talked a lot about music and art, ordered fries, burgers, and jalepeno poppers. I contributed two bucks to the Johnny Cash and other country songs blasted from the jukebox while Peter Prevost and some other Norfolk friends played pool. Of course I confronted the big-nosed guy again, but he ignored me. So I defiantly yelled, “Thanks for ruining a great song!”
There's a compilation CD coming to Bakersfield. N.L. wrote the lyrics to most of the songs. If your band wants to be involved, contact N.L.
Contributing bands: The Filthies, Myndsick, Exithead, KooKooNauts, Rocky Nash, RidiKule, The Black Jerks, Dirty Spanglish, and Mento Buru...
Charity: Noveltown Kid's Books.
Get excited. It's all about helping out the community: hockey, music, the arts...
Back to Friday night. Don’t think I was just lurking downtown pondering the future of Pizza in downtown Bakersfield after Soulajar’s big performance. I soon headed over to the Empty Space Theatre over in the Oleander Arts Collective. It was the least I could do after my controversial blog on Drama Rama I wrote earlier on Saturday. After a minor run-in with an unsatisfactory evening a few months back I finally decided to give the Empty Space the chance it deserved.
I arrived a little early and saw director of the upcoming July 8-23 run of Closer, Roger Mathey coolly hanging outside. “Are you staying for the show?” I asked. He nodded and we greeted each other; then I took off over to Pizzaville and ordered some grub. Inside I saw several patrons arrive that I could tell were waiting for An Adult Evening of Shel Silverstein directed by Joe Mitchell and Guinevere Park-Hall. I used to have a few Shel Silverstein books, but I lost those in a divorce more than ten years ago and haven’t read them since.
Back at The Empty Space I ran into one of the actresses from the Bakersfield Ninjas short film. She was shocked that I recognized her and that I had a permanent link on my website to the film… more on that in a future blog…
On the way to my seat I saw some cool local artwork...
Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) was a creative genius, a storyteller, cartoonist, and author of one-act plays with a sometimes abrasive content brimming with hilarity. An Adult Evening with Shel Silverstein are little vignettes, walking cartoons, playlets dripping with the poetic comic phrases of his genius that also include a few drier pieces.
Although this show’s running ended yesterday, I still think the show and The Empty Space deserve a serious blogging as it was a hilarious tour de force through some of Shel Silverstein’s finest.
The cartoony playlet, One Tennis Shoe, featuring Kamel Haddad’s comic concern over Cory Rickard’s bag lady transformation at a café table was my favorite episode of the night. The deadpan was right on, the costuming and props were hysterical as it took me a few minutes through the dialogue to realize that Cory’s character was indeed a bag lady in full denial of her identity. The slapstick was masterfully arranged which made for a difficult time taking photos because I was laughing so hard.
Bus Stop, featuring Sarah Downie, AKA Maid Marion from the Misadventures of Robin Hood sure did say a lot of potty words along with the purposely bumbling Pablo Reyes who Enrique Fuentes is still stirring over for his machismo in the same Robin Hood play. A vignette about Feminism meeting machismo head on, I thought it was hilarious until I realized that I hadn’t heard every variation of the word, “penis.” Then I just felt plain uneducated.
Blind Willie and the Talking Dog was so funny I once again had trouble taking photos. Here was Rebecca Lotze in a fluffy dog costume portraying an attitude-filled puppy who felt a sorrowful angst for the very hand that feeds her: a very kooky harmonica-playing blind man portrayed by Kevin Lively. Their argument over life was really Shel Silverstein’s comical way of communicating to us that other perspectives on life may not seem normal only because we haven’t taken the time to laugh along with those we stereotype, including man’s best friend who just may be loyal for reasons unsuspecting.
Going Once was a disturbing ode to humanity’s manufacturing of beauty. We see it all around us, in the cars we buy, the TV shows we watch, the high society clothes we wear, and so forth. Haddad’s parading around of the semi-nude Sarah Vara reminded me of the shallow nature of humanity that sells itself out for what? Exposure of each other based on aesthetic wants… ...disturbing but true.
The first half of the show ended with The Best Daddy, a cartoony view of a daddy’s torturing of his daughter’s innocence. I loved it. Reminded me of the Calvin and Hobbes where the dad tells Calvin the sun is the size of a quarter… and Calvin believes him. There’s an innocence in how a child believes the parent is the gospel of truth. It doesn’t last long, but when it’s there, and children think a parent can explain who they are, where they are going, and where they came from, as well as the size, dimensions and chemical make-up of the sun… well tell them what you know while you can. Sarah Taylor’s innocent face and near tantrum moments were just as fun as Ronnie Hargrave’s portrayal of the victimizing daddy.
I wish I had stayed for the rest of the show, but unfortunately there was an intermission, which meant I could sneak out, go home, and finally sleep…
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