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#15
CONTENTS:
StubbyFest '99
Casino El Camino
Miss Xanna Don't and the crew of "Rowdy Round-Up"
Austin Free Shakespeare Society "Comedy of Errors"
Fat Tuesdays
Julian the French blues harmonica player
311 Club
Cheers Shot Bar
Concordia University's "Dracula"
Stubby came down from the Rockies and I had to work all the
damn time the first few days, so that sucked. But somehow
fate interviened and I got the weekend off so that was cool.
After getting off work at 12:30am on Friday night, we decided
to go to 6th street for the last hour of drinking time. We
ended up at the Casino El Camino. Trying to order booze, a
guy walked up and asked if I "knew Xanna." I said
I did, thinking I met him the last time I was at Casino with
Miss Xanna Don't. He said, "She's waving at you."
And I looked over and there was Xanna in the corner looking
all cute in a cowboy hat.
Went over and talked to Xanna and Anne, her friend, for quite
a bit. Xanna introduced me to Anne-Marie, who wrote the script
to "Rowdy Round Up" with director Kevin West and
to Steve, the guy who first asked me if I knew Xanna. Steve
is the musical director for the film.
We talked a lot and they were all very nice people. Anne Marie
is quite amusing and charming. She wasn't drinking and I still
found her fun to be around! Designated Drivers are usually
a drag. We talked a lot about the film. She is doing a novelization
of the script. She has some other projects she wants to work
on as well. She calls the film a sort of horror/comedy/soap
opera. She told a great story about her and Kevin baking brownies
and trying to write the end of "Rowdy Round Up."
Steve and Stubby talked quite a bit. After they closed down
Casino, we all stood on 6th street talking for a long time.
The subject of frat boys came up and I seemed to be the only
one in favor of them. After a while, the ladies left and we
talked to Steve for a long time. Steve was much drunker than
I was, but he was not obnoxious. I even allowed him to ramble
negatively about Tom Cruise without hitting him in the face.
I liked him a lot.
There is so much going on with their film, it is so exciting.
It felt so great to be talking with folks working on their
own Austin film, with Austin music and a humorous and gay
theme and all. I can't wait to find out more about the film
and met the director. Steve told us that Pocket FishRMen have
some songs in the film. He also mentioned that he is doing
the score music himself. We talked about Hollowbody since
I am interested in finding out more about them after seeing
Adam Sultan in "The Boulevard of Broken Dreams"
at the Vortex. Steve felt that Hollowbody is kinda dull pop.
Xanna, Steve and Anne Marie had been to some brewery, Live
Oak, on the East Side, to see some free Shakespeare play.
We are thinking about going too.
Had a great day Saturday with Stubby, until it ended.
We got up at 10:30am when his bro Tim called.
Stubby went back to sleep, but I got up and stayed up. When
Stubby got up at 1pm, we went to Chinese Buffet then came
home and watched most of the UT game.
Looked for happy hour ads in the Austin Chronicle. This led
us to a bar called Lovejoys near 6th street. It was cool,
with a coffin for a table in one part of the bar, a big mural
of "The Last Supper" with Willie Nelson as Jesus
on the back wall and a side area where their were couches
and a bookstand full of old books. We had a drink and found
a fanzine called "Dry Heave." It had pictures of
chicks sitting on toilets (not nude) and the prints were for
sale inside. It had a list of the bars in Austin that had
happy hours and all sorts of weird articles. It was strange.
Walked around 6th street a bit and watched the frats drive
up and down honking thier horns and stuff cause UT won the
game. Ended up at Casino El Camino again. Had a few drinks,
talked to a cute but dumb blonde guy, watched "Fast Times
at Ridgemont High" with the closed captioning on and
played the Southpark pinball game.
(Speaking of "Fast Times," TVLand showed an episode
of the TV spin-off from the movie the other day. It was god-awful.
It had no one in it from the original movie but Ray Walston.
Dean Cameron played Spicoli and he looked about 30 years old.
Jason Hervey (of "Wonder Years") had a small role
as Spicoli's 12 year old brother. It was even directed by
Amy Heckerling, but it was a ridiculous idea for a sitcom.)
Last night at Casino, Xanna had mentioned that they went to
this free performance of Shakespeare's "The Comedy of
Errors" at Live Oak Brewery. Stubb and I had decided
to go, so we made our way there about 7:30. Xanna had given
me good directions but I still wouldn't have found it if the
actors hadn't been standing along East 5th with signs that
directed you to the place. When Xanna said it was at Live
Oak Brewery, I though she meant some bar that had it's own
microbrew. But this was actually at the small factory for
the brewery, I believe. Xanna also didn't mention it was outside
but, since the waether was perfect, this caused few problems.
Simply put - The performance was astoundingly good. Never
before had I seen a Shakespeare comedy put forth with such
deeply intrinsic understanding of the text and such daring
and audaciousness in performance. The actors in this troupe,
the Austin Free Shakespeare Society, have no director and
one wonders how they work out the logistics of putting on
the play. But this collaborative effort has lead them to a
greater good. Their adaptation of the play weaved and soared
around a panarama of performances where each actor was allowed
to bring whatever "felt right" to the character.
Awesome choices were made, and nary a single flaw could be
found with the playing. I simply sat, under the stars, on
a rickety chair on a concrete driveway, spellbound. This was
a performance worthy of a high admission. The fact that it
was free is simply unimaginable. What true love of acting
and Shakespeare these performers must have to bring forth
such a wondrous play and then be able to see that it's true
beauty not only belongs to them, but the audience as well.
It was one of those instances where, again, I could not believe
I was lucky enough to be living in Austin. This town's cultural
exuberence is deafening. Only here. Only now. These perfect
moments wash over me and fill me with awe and wonder. Truly,
the beauty of this performance is unfathomable, unless you
were here, unless you were there, unless you were me... From
where I sat, life could not possibly get any sweeter.
Another great thing in this ideal setting of grace and community
that was the performance: The actors mingled with the audience.
They broke down the barrier of the stage and although they
had an area which was for the play, they seemed not afraid
to distract from it by running around the audience when off
stage, making noises that underscored the action on stage
or laughing at humerous moments with us. It made the audience
seem a part of the whole performance.
Also, there was an awesome little musical combo who played
during the action's downtime and occassionally during the
performance. They were great as well. To unofficially begin
the evening, the actors came onto the area behind the band,
sort of in the gateway from the building behind, and began
to sing a song together with the band's accompaniment. This
set a tone for the entire production. It opened our eyes to
the idea that anything might happen. And, again, it made the
evening seem more communal. We were not there to "see"
a play as much as to "experience" an event. It was
inclusive and freeing at the same time.
All the acting was good. And new and unique and interesting
and perfect. To single out any particular performers would
somehow, it seems to me, negate the greatness of the rest.
So I won't do that. Instead I will simply list their names,
as a testament to their great sphere of talent: Andy Bond,
Kai Robertson, Daniel Sacks, Mark Lovell, Mike Mergan, Robert
Deike, Patrick Aziz, Devin Griffiths, Travis Hale, Brett Youens,
Dacia Balch, Sara Chauvin, Shanna Smith, Barbara Long, Emily
Abrams, John Botti.
At intermission, Stubby talked to a really cute guy named
Ryan who was taking some pictures of the performance. It would
be great to get some pix of this evening on the site. And
again, after the play, Stubby took the initiative and talked
to some of the performers, I followed his lead. We told them
how wonderful their work that evening was. We discussed working
with them in the future to get them some promotion on the
web. They are truly worthy of any assistance one can give
them. Unfortunately, this was their last performance of the
play and it will be a few months before their next production.
And, alas, while I can not wait, I have no other choice. Hopefully,
I can be more aware of their goings-on in the future.
To completely shift gears, after the play we went to Oil Can
Harry's. It was packed and they played the same damn stupid
music they always do. Please God - someone tell me where their
is an alternative dance club. I am so sick of divas. Next,
when I could not take it any longer, we went to the Forum.
Stubby did not like it here, so we only stayed a bit. The
Forum is more laid back and local. While we were there, we
noticed several guys with neon glow sticks (small ones) in
their mouth. This is, apparently, the new fashion trend of
the moment. If someone would just dip the damn things in LSD
(acid) so you wouldn't care that you looked like a complete
weirdo with this thing in your mouth, the trend could become
monumental. Still, look for me to be walking around with a
blue glowing mouth soon... I'm such a follower.
We opted to go to 6th street instead of another gay bar and
it was packed with people. It was a pansexual candyland. We
were pretty drunk, so it was easy to flirt and say weird shit
as we walked past people. We went to the Aqua Bar cause it
was easy to get in. Stubby had water. How apropos.
We walked some more and ended up at Fat Tuesdays, a frozen
drink place with live music. The drinks are high (over $6
apiece!), but one will do you. The band they had playing,
whoever the fuck they were, were awesome. They were a cover
band but they played awesome alternative rock and had the
pit in front of the stage rocking so hard, I thought it might
collapse. Stubby and I rocked out with the crowd and found
individual moments to enjoy the brustling of the humanity
against our warm bodies. It felt alive and warm and erotic
and pleasuarble...The most gentle mosh pit in the world. It
reminded me of the glory days of punk and new wave. In addition
to doing so many familiar yet rocking tunes, the band was
augmented onstage by several cute girls who threw beads into
the crowd a couple of times. It was cool.
After last call, we began the long trek back to tour car.
Somehow, we engaged a cute guy ahead of us in conversation.
His name was Julian and he was from France. To be honest,
he was the most nice and unassuming European I have ever met.
He works for Antones, not the bar, the recording studio or
record company or something. This is his second time in the
US. He came last year and worked as an intern. This time he
is a paid employee. We offered him a ride and when we finally
got him home, it would have been like a two mile walk for
him. Still, I'm sure he gets offered rides all the time; He's
very cute. He told us he was going to be playing at a club
called 311 on Sunday night. He plays harmonica during some
open jam sort of thing, I guess. He was handing out flyers
on 6th tonite for The Texas Trumpets. They are having a CD
release party 11/11 at Cedar Street and are doing an in-store
at Waterloo Records on 11/12. I imagine they were paying Julian
to hand out flyers and he was earning a living out there on
a Saturday night. Though, I could be wrong. He was a nice
guy and I hope to see him again sometime.
Finally, we went to Taco Cabana and got some food to go. Stubby
met a really adorable junior rockstar guy in the bathroom.
He came out and stood in line next to us with his alt_rock
girlfriend. They were a cute couple. This guy was pencil thin
and had a nose that was so large, it gave me penis envy. I
thought he was beautiful. He looked sort of like a young Stiv
Bators or Keith Richards. Stiv and Keith's bastard son. He
and his girlfriend were a goth rock bisexual weekend waiting
to happen.
Finally, at home, caught the last 5 minutes of "Raw Time,"
which, of course, Stubby hated. He was pretty drunk and he
does not like alcohol, so he was suddenly in a foul mood.
He just kept bitching and whining his intellectual misanthropic
bullshit and I wanted to smack him. I would have if I weren't
so tired that I knew the sting would have ignited a erotic
maylay of lust that would have ended with me unsatisfied and
Stubby sound asleep. Instead I went to my computer room and
opened my e-mail and left Stubb to his own churning bile.
A horrible end to an otherwise unbelievable night of jubilation.
"The Treasure Island Horror"
Sunday Stubby and I were pretty broke so we sit around the
house all day doing nothing pretty much. Ate some food, watched
TV and I took a nap.
Around 10 we decided to go ahead and go down to 6th street
to see Julian at 311. We were also going to check out some
other clubs. It was a Sunday, so I was pretty laid back, just
wearing shorts, t-shirt and deck shoes.
Went to 311 and Julian was there. Stubby talked to him more
than I did. He wasn't going on stage for a while, so we told
him we'd be back. We were going to go to a club called Treasure
Island since they advertise 25 cent drinks on Sunday nights.
Treasure Island is a dump. The place smells like rotting urinals
overflowing with stagnant piss. (Remember how your older brother
used to sit around all day eating beef jerky and chocolate
marshmellow pop tarts, drinking Raspberry Tang and then take
a huge dump in the toilet, forget to flush and blame it on
you. That's what this place smelled like!) The staff there
appears to be a bunch of homeless crack whores, male and female,
which the bar seems to hire for free drinks or something.
They are so busy puking in the men's room or trying to score
some heroin, that you cannot get your 25 cent drinks. Our
hooker/waitress was named "Cheese Whiz." The place
looks like a comdemned building and several times I was afraid
I was going to fall right through the rotting floor. And the
worse part was the horrible drinks. This 25 cent crap wasn't
rot gut, it wasn't even watered down rot gut; It was some
kind of concoction which seemed to be made of Drano and seltzer
water or something. After one drink, we feared for our internal
organs and we high-tailed it out of there. Our waitress, the
alleged crack whore, followed us out going, "Where's
my motherfucking tip..." and when we told her we were
leaving, she pulled down her crusty shorts and panties and
started talking about how good her pussy was. "Don't
you want some of this smelly pussy. It's nice and soft and
slimey. Just buy me a drink baby, and you can get some pussy
and some free cheese. It's oozing out right now for you baby."
Suddenly I snapped to why they called her Cheese Whiz. But
I think I'll call her the Treasure Island Heroin Whore, because
of the track marks all around her puffy, saggy hole. Treasure
Island was a rip-off and a joke. The city should shut it down
as a health violation. I would be afraid to drink out of the
glasses at the place. (Actually what happened was, they wouldn't
let me in because they said they had a dress code and I needed
sox. This would be funny if it weren't so stupid and infuriating.
This is Austin dumbasses. You have made an enemy. It is my
mission in life, now, to tell everyone I know, everywhere,
what a rude, arrogant, creepy, frat boy infested, shithole
Treasure Island is. Can't wait for you to go out of business.)
Went instead to a place called the Cheers Shot Bar. It was
a piece of crud dive but had cheap drinks. Had a few and admired
the bartender, who I think was named Adam. He looked pretty
downtrodden until Stubby engaged him in conversation. He was
nice. He kept doing the Tom Cruise "Cocktail" thing,
juggling the silver shakers and stuff, which was silly. The
cheap schnapps "shots" at the place were watered
down with something.
Went back to 311 and watched Julian play. He was having technical
problems so that was a bit of a letdown. He also seemed more
interested in getting some P than playing, which is fine.
He is still one of the most charming and friendly Europeans
guys I ever met.
There was a wonderfully cute, lanky guy with a big nose sitting
at a table with his Strat waiting for his turn to play during
the R&B jam session. I couldn't keep my eyes of him. He
was one of those guys who pouts even when he smiles. He was
adorable. Stubby talked to him briefly, and found out he was
from Berlin. When he finally got up and played, he jammed
like a firecracker. He was out-riffing every other player
on stage. Sometimes he was too eager to be the star, but he
was so awesome when he caught fire, that it didn't seem to
matter. Watching the band jam reminded me of how communal
and democratic music is. Not only based on mathematics, it
has a language and a pathway through it much like film or
theater. It reminded me of the Shakespeare play last night,
where actors riffed off each other and allowed others their
moments to shine in the spotlight. The visual clues and eye
contact the musicians make on stage lead them through their
performance, shuffling the balance of power and allowing a
sweet weaving stream of joyousness to emerge and carry us
through the performance. It was cool. I want film to be like
that too.
The German guitar player was beautiful to behold. For some
reason, watching his lithe arm descend from his shirtsleeve
was like heaven to me. Like the best of art and film, it mesmerized
me. It connect me to him and to the music. It was erotic and
artisitc and solidified the moments for me. He was beautiful.
Watching him, his face moving subtly to each change in texture
of the music was eurphoric. I wish I could have spoken to
him and told him how much I enjoyed his playing. Stubby did,
when the place finally shut down after 2am, and his eyes lit
up light Roman candles. And his perfect, unusual, erotic,
pouting mouth curled into a beautiful smile that made me see
stars (yet it somehow never lost it's saddness). He was it.
My goddamn upstairs neighbor continues to rearrange her furniture
every day. Sometimes at 7am, sometimes 12 midnight. I cannot
take much more of this. This became more freaky when, later
this week, I saw a part of Roman Polanski's "The Tennant..."
Went to Rich and Kelly's on Monday night. They were obviously
dog-ass tired. It must be getting close to the middle of the
semester and I think they are drowning in the responsibility
of being students.
Watched about an hour of Polanski's "The Tennant,"
which sucked the life completely out of the room. No small
feat if your in the room with Kelly.
Just saw the video fro Foo Fighters "Learn to Fly"
in which Dave Grohl plays himself, a teenage girl, a gay flight
attendant and much more. I love Grohl. He's very daring, makes
awesome music and refuses to conform to modern conventions
of celebrity. Just the other day, someone was telling me about
how he met some record company peon at a party one time and,
instead of spending the time schmoozing, sat and talked with
her for like an hour about some personal relationship problems
she was having. Now that's a rock star.
Also saw a video for Macy Gray, which I liked quite a bit
too. She has a really cool voice and the music is very retro
without being camp.
Web came to town Wednesday and after work, I went on a 6th
Street tour with him and Stubby. We went to about 3 or 4 bars
and ended up in a place called Shakespeare's Pub or something.
Got blitz within an hour. Went to Taco Cabana and got food.
Proceeded back to my place to eat and engaged Web in a circular
argument which he could not win. He does NOT know me.
Thursday, we went to see "Bringing
out the Dead" and then, exhausted, went home early
to try and get some sleep. My goddamn neighbor, however, was
up at 4 am, hanging pictures and building birdhouses with
an industrial sized ball-peen hammer. It was just more insanity
to endure. didn't sleep well at all.
Friday, worked all morning, then came home to Timmy and Stubby
at my pad. Went to Concordia University to see my friend JC's
brother in "Dracula." It was horrible. The play
was an atrocity. The actors were all bad. Either they had
no concept of how to act or they simply mouthed the words.
It was more amatuer and ridiculous than a junior high school
play. No one, even my friends brother, Tim Cubbinson, who
played Dracula, had any idea of what the play was about. Some
of them were so bad it was actually delicious. Others were
just tiresome. At least Cubbinson had some of the physicality
of Dracuyla down. In his long black robe and luminisecent
shaved head, he looked quite eerie. But then he spoke and
ruined the illusion. He also had fake teeth and a mean snarl
but it could not save his complete incomprehension of the
idea of Dracula. He had no power, no inteelectual presence,
no conception of being immortal, and in complete and utter
control of other's destiny. He did not walk with confidence.
It was lame.
The stage had these moving walls (on wheels) and after about
2 or 3 minutes of action, the stage would go black, the actors
disappear and not-so-quiet set moves would wheel the walls
around to make new sets and areas for the action to take place.
This would take at least a minute or two. It added nothing
to the production but time. Without all this needless movement,
the play would have probably been about 45 minutes long. The
writer of this adaptation, who also directed, Jeff Hinkle,
must be one of the most pretentious and ludicrious people
to live in our city. His work seem pompous and trite. He too,
like his script, shows an utter lack of understanding the
source material.
The whole damn thing was bad. My friends told me that Concordia
is a Christian University, so perhaps, we decided, the play
was supposed to be about redemption. There was a lot of posturing
about this at the end of the play which was quite senseless
and ridiculous. And after the play, as the cast took their
applause, in unisone, they made some sort of weird, pretentious,
peace sign to the heavens or something. The perfect pretentious
end to the imperfect pretentious night...
Later that night, Kelly came over and the four of us filmed
some silly, useless footage but we had a good time. Kelly
is a great guy but quite overbearing. He wore out his welcome,
but he's young and vibrant and that makes it acceptable. As
I fell into a sleep, he talked to Tim about his ideas for
short films and such... it flavored my dreams.
Saturday, took Stubby to the bus station, came home and crashed.
I could not get up in time to see Xanna at her gig. I hope
she will forgive me. It's been a hellacious 9 days of StubbyFest
'99 and I was zonked. something had to give. I'm sorry it
was Xanna. She is one of my favorite people.
Some bad poetry of mine:
In the glimpse of the eye
in the frame of a film
moments collide
the architecture of time elapsed
fails
Bringing out the lad's divinity
flowers of diversity
teaching universal university
the trinity of masculinity
father son and sacred musk
all emotions void of rust
like abandon city's dusk
angel succumbing to human's lust
in man we trust...
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