I went to see my good friend Roban's 'part time' band play a gig last night at a high school carnival at St Patricks school up in North Hollywood, not far from where I live.
Sufficiently reccuperated from his attack by poison oak, he did look however kinda funny sitting behind a kids; drum set, but I didn't tell him that. Not me, no. Never.
Anyway,I don't know about you, but ever since I moved to LA 23 years ago, I, like the Bohemian in Queen's Song, have 'served my sentence, but committed no crime.'
I have lost count of the number of AWFUL gigs I have endured just to bulk up my friends' egos and head counts at obscure clubs all up and down the Sunset Strip. The showcases, the bad one act plays, the script readings, the poetry slams (ouch) and now...the bloody carnivals.
To be fair, I did have fun in a peculiar way. I felt like I'd stepped back in time seeing the Haunted Mansion ride and the Kamikaze, Twister etc. and the endless 'try your luck, gimme your buck' games.
But the music! YAARRGHH! Again to be fair, the music was good. Roban who has told me for years about his drumming, was actually great. The guitarists were good two except one mike was live and the bass player kept getting fritzed. What was bad was the singing. The female singer roped into this comedy routine murdered Jumpin' Jack Flash, Hello Hello and several other songs. Unfortunately when she and the guitar players all started singing, they sounded like cats wailing.
It all brought back horrible memories of the time I had a huge crush on this guy Drew (last name won't be mentioend because I have forgotten it).
I lusted and pined after this guy (so you'd think I'd remember his name, right?) Anyway, my good frined Jono told me Drew liked me too and encouraged me to go to Drew's band's gig.
I stuck it out for bloody hours and he came over to me between sets. He was sweet and attentive and appeared to be singing to me all night.
Well, long after the gig was over and the club owners wanted to close up, he was downing drinks at the bar and he kept asking them, "Was it okay? Was it really good?"
No and No.
I waited and waited and finally went home without him.
The things we do for dick!!
Still, last night, I stuck out Roban's show for two sets, some damned fine Filipino chow and I am feeling virtuous for not telling him how bad they really sucked.

So don't mention it to him, okay?

Aloha oe,

AJ