Friday, November 02, 2007

Too Much Fun a Myth!

Too much fun? Like a girl too pretty or a car too fast, I don't know anything about it.

Harbingers of doom rock High On Fire rocked the Independent deep, certain members of the audience even slam danced (yes! in San Francisco!). Lead singer strides onstage, shirtless, tatooed, giant stratocaster in hand - rippppps into it, sweat starts pouring off his frame, maniac grin the whole time. My hoodie-beanie combo had me sweating too, like a pig going down the chute to the killing floor, but just dove further towards the death, pulled the hood tight over the beanie to sweat more, busted hip-hop moves zig-zag through the pit, jumped, jump, jumping, shook my head from side to side like an angry bull, went into an alligator trance with those eyes that shine realms beyond fear. Rock and roll all the way, impossible loud, so loud my ears rang for days even though I wore those wax earplugs. Have a High on Fire disc but it never sounded like this - soooo boss. Next time they party through town you could not keep me away with a line of riot police brandishing cotton swabs soaked in pepper spray, but I'll look for a Sacramento show, where they slam more like the old days, more danger, more fun.

Kid's first time trick-or-treating. First house the boy tried to give away the candy he'd picked up at church earlier, with truly touching generosity. When he figured out that he received candy the excitement only mounted. He kept asking jack-o-lanternless people why they didn't carve a pumpkin. Love that boy.

Later that night...

HallofuckingWestOaklandween, had flame-throwing vehicles shooting 30' (10m) blasts, dancing in the streets, pissing in the streets. A plain blue mini-van backed up the street toward the crowd slow, stopped, dropped, rear doors popped open, two guys plugged a guitar and a bass into two amplifiers, launched in a legendary set of Misfits covers. Not quite slamming, but at least we were dancing. Maira had a party right nearby too, featuring the giant propane jet backfiring wild concussions and spewing various colors of flame. The main attraction at Maira's growled the eyeball of destruction, a track-mounted wrecking ball that shot multi-colored flames out the eye-ball while dripping burning methanol mixed with copper acetate down the chain. It wrecked mock office towers made from dressers, jack-o-lanterns, microwaves and every damned thing it could - my kind of remote control toy. Pumpkin pinata hell to break, especially with Maira swinging it like a madwoman. Organic suckers, what more to say. Siobahn! I told you to come.

2 comments:

Siobhan said...

oh crap I know, well next year Helloween is on a Friday night so I can actually make it out! When I read your description I long to turn back time and go to the party! I love it that you thought of me even after the fact. I walked by the Shooting Star Cafe today and thought of you dear D'art! Sunday at gilman is Citizen Fish, always good for dancing they are......

Fourth Musketeer said...

no worries about yesterday's parties. time is on our side (yes it is), in the kitchen, where the party happens brightest. Citizen Fish, I love them, let's do it!