|It seems like no matter what moderately sized midwestern city you're in, there'll be some stretch of absurdly massive houses, old mansions with circular drives and tall brownstone walls and fancy dogs. These things cost lots of money, I know they do. Where does so much money come from? And how did it end up in Indianapolis, or Cincinnati, or St. Louis of all places? Is all the money gone, and only the houses left, with the once-spoiled kids fading away inside, trying to get over their guilt or whatever? What's going on? Does Detroit have the same thing? It probably does. |
Indianapolis has it. Then you get through town, past the fancy new baseball or basketball stadium or whatever it is, and then - why, the mansions are gone! And, why, there's nothing but shacks! Shacks, and shit in the yards, and lots of broken big wheels... and this one corner, with a greek place, and a malt shop with an old 45 jukebox that still works & takes quarters, and this place Radio Radio. What a fucking lovely bar! It smelled like Pine Sol when we walked in. Imagine it! Pine Sol! Some stinky punk rock band had played the night before, and it was already entirely disinfected and shiny.
The people who owned the place were funny and resourceful. They had accents. My step-brother and his brother-in-law came up from St. Louis, left their massive mansion and came up for the weekend. The Swords Project played on this show, too, which as you may know by now pleased me to no end. The whole band is fuckable, as someone in Oklahoma City said. Apparently.
So, what... we played, right? There were a few people there, oh fuck! I know I always get excited about this kind of thing, but there were fans, right? and some of the fans - serious fans - were NOT geeky guys! Don't get me wrong, the guys are fabulous. But there were attractive women standing up front, just as slack-jawed as can be. I always dig that, you know, makes me feel... makes me feel whole again. So we played our songs, we played and played. And when we finished, we were through! We didn't play any more songs that night. And The Swords Project left, we said our goodbyes and they left, and we drove North where oh! We found this motel with such an odd little late-night bar attached. A bar full of Nascar fans, have you seen this bar? Nascar fans and strangely unattractive people singing karaoke and dancing slow. Andy and I had a late night drink, gazed in wonderment, and skipped back to the room at closing time.
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