Saturday the ninth, January 2010 my band, Inazuma, and the Runts (and a fourth mystery band, who's name I didn't catch on a count of my inebriation, but who's two Sublime covers I really really enjoyed).
The beginnings of the night were of course covered in hitches. The whole house carpooled that was an undertaking, since everyone decided that malt liquor in forty ounce bottles and tall cans of energy booze were meant to be shaken up together into the same forty ounce bottle (kinda a James B. meets the forty thing , you know "shaken' not stirred".) The chemical reaction of this action you can imagine was a messy one, good thing its all hard flooring, wood slash tile, and of course the drunkenness from these classiest of cocktail treats was a fervent one.
This was all fine and dandy as I had received a phone call to go ahead and not worry about being there too early or even on time on a count of the boats good captain had come down with a case of inebriation of his own.
The boat was initially uneventful we parked by the tourists and walked down past all the shiny new capacity packed attractions (there's a new comedy club chain down there i must patronise soon) the place is awfully populated these days, they should try and spread some of that enthusiasm around the place a little more evenly.
Got to the slip and was thrown into dealing with the problem of having to much equipment(weird i know) so we threw a bunch of drums on an extra sail boat anchored next door to ours, the removal of which became a real undertaking at the end of the night.
We loaded up the boat and after a quick in case of emergency situation briefing and a surgeon general authorised death warning we were off. Which triggered the dropping of the first Dramamine and the end of the first doobie. I voiced my concerns about the choppy conditions of the sea, I was promptly made informed of our coordinates not being out of the harbor yet. The view back towards the beach even just a few hundred yards away was amazing, surely this was enhanced by my condition.
The first band began to ring out I don't remember there name but they had a floor show, a girl with an l.e.d. lit glowing hula hoop she had all sorts of moves and tricks that shoulda served to make her sick with all the boats motion but she held, these guys had a few jazz numbers and a few ska numbers highlighted by a couple well placed and well mimicked Sublime covers much appreciated by the crowd (as admittedly pretentious and elitist as they might have been(me included).
The intermission: Un-eventful. I was with the Runts gang so the occurrences were of course of delinquent nature(I should be outlawed, me and adolescents should not be allowed to congregate).
The Runts played here, The one with the guitbox handed me some fancy peace of techno gadgetry this thing even had its own set of scissors and a corkscrew, it was set to record and all I had to do was hold it, figuerin' I was competent enough I accepted the position and all duties that accompany it. I took the recordimajig held it level to the strike zone of the sound and braced the old long and slender's (me legs) to ride out the "oceans motion" I held well for the first few, maybe three or four, then I was struck by one of the rowdies a Familiar one. This threw me off my balance axis I rolled right, I stumbled left, I recovered my perch. Then I was whacked again from the same direction by the same Bogey, and wouldn't you know it the recordimajig flew, hit the deck and ejected its batteries. How embarrassing, the red in my eye was matching my face. The energy these guys emit is definite and potent, they make the crowd rowdie raviness and wet with cum, always. I don't know what possessed me to believe i would be able to keep on my feet's.
Second intermission: Eventful. By this Point I was many drinks in and approaching the end of what may have been the fifth or sixth doobie with a couple guys I met aboard the vessel, one of the gentlemen was enjoying the salty ocean air with great fanaticism he confessed, poetically, his affinity for its scent, a beautiful set of rhyming words created from love and spontaneity. I was quick to liken it to "old pussy". I pardoned myself and proceeded to the designated vomit expulsion area, ran into one of the roommates the one who lives in the view room, also in the grips of a volatile conversation with the sea.
Came up for air to news of it being our turn to bat, all went as if we'd lacked to plan. The Usual banter to start. The turnstile set went surprisingly well, with minimal stumblin'. The usually unbalanced ratio of drinkin' to "performin' " also showed improvement. one of the Norwalkians had a Jerry Rice banner, Our plan to raise popular opinion of #80 is showing signs of success.
Third intermission: Different from the first. Second Dramamine un-inventoried drink start of ninth doobie(if you count the one that went around during our set). The seats were full of woo'ers court'ers and romantic's, the tiny bar surrounded by story tellers and musically inclined drunks, the deck covered in noise making equipment and good time Charlies pedelin' goods. the place looked like a colony of colonies of chaos with smaller colonies of chaos with in, no one colonies wake crashin' or overlapping, unprecedented harmony. All the while around us in the misty ocean night this poem inducing beauty. it was a wonderful time to be intoxicated (on a boat).
Last and certainly not least Inazuma, A gang of rock and roll samurai. As they tend to do they were awesome all on perfect time and every tune struck out with un-intended coolness, artfully directed energy. Rock and roll.
All entertainment duties done we were left to our devices, all our devices were rapidly drenched in alcohol, cheers and toast and well wishing were casually tossed around. It may have been the promiscuous use of liquor what made the trip back to shore a quick one. The clearing the boat was less quick. Slowly drunks and other debachaurists were hand delivered to the unloading ramp, once on the slip and of the boat all concerns of keeping people from becoming submerged barnacles were abandoned recklessly. Our attention turned to getting drums off a loosely anchored sailboat. the thing was wobbly to say the least and each peace I tried to maneuver off the thing felt bulkier than the last, so I gave up and went about collecting my troop.
The trip home: un-eventful. The walk back to the car found us traversing the same beaten path as we did to our engagement, the area was still lively we stopped for drinks at a couple places on the way not much memorable about this joints all similar except in facade, under dressed women with terrible speech patterns and men wearing overpriced undersized T-shirts with a serious misconception of how interested others are in paying attention to them and or their possessions.
once re grouped and pile into the compact four door hatchback we drove off only to run right into an after hours taco stand, Delicious. piled into the compact four door hatchback once more, drove off once more, "home or bust" was the general consensus. Ran right into a twenty four hour donut shop, OJ, maple bars, and breakfast stuffed croissants. Tummy's stuffed and night at its end and land loving in full swing it was clear that the one who lives in the front was leaving this excursion with the contents of his stomach intact, a real feat, especialy considering we were coming off a sea trip.
Back on the road, drove past an infuriating scene a scene we all have witnessed and been peeved about. one guy in one car (an early nineties jalopy of Japanese origin) four police interceptors, so this is at least eight officers and possibly a dog(considering they all ride partnered at this time of night, morning if your into technicality). Now this is already to long and probably wont be posted for even longer so I don’t want to get to much into it but, What the fuck.
why do they need this amount of man power for the one guy, yeap just one guy one solo mother fucker on the curb hand cuffed behind the back and all possessions on display on the roof of his car like a yard sale in the middle if a minor flood.
there’s no rational reasoning here no humanity, what is this guy maybe a dui if he was he couldn’t have been to hard to control he seemed pretty tame when I saw him, he couldn’t have weighed more than a buck and a half and wasn’t a basketball player.
what is he a drug lord with the store bought glass pipe and the tube of medi. pot on the roof.
Did you all need to concentrate every spotlight you have at the highest setting on the guy too, REALLY.
And now we all have to merge a lane over for your four patrol cars to take up space that could be used for normal traffic flow.
I wonder if they are aware of the recession, you know the money problems, or do they find it necessary to take our tax money and spend it blatantly on harassing the very civilians whose money is ripped out of their paycheck in order to pay the salary they earned that night by overpowering the ONE guy eight to one. AND HERE I FAUCKING AM EATING TWO FOR A DOLLAR FRUIT PIE AND FUCKING CANED BEANS AND GENERIC SLOPPY JOE SAUCE. YOU HAD FOUR DIFERENT EIGHT CYLINDER 250 HORSEPOWER GASOLINE POWERED ENGINGES ALL RUNNING TO KEEP YOUR OVERWHELMINGLY BRIGHT SPOTLIGHTS ON THE ONE GUY ALL BURNING UP GAS AT 16 GALLONS PER MILE. you sons of bitches sons of god damned mother fucking (and their fore lesbian(not that there’s anything wrong with that just pointing out the fact) bitches.
FUCK YOU POLICE AND FUCK YOUR DRUG SNIFFING ASSHOLE DOGS TOO.
