Thursday night we met The Pope at the local snooker hall for a bit of friendly billiards. We three Yanks played against the Kiwi mathematician-musician, his friend the Argentinian mathematician-magician, and a Scottish biologist. There were also magic tricks, some of which I could catch being done by sleight-of-hand and some of which seemed frickin’ impossible. My favorite was the Invisible Deck.

We played Yanks vs. Foreigners, and even managed to get in a little kelly pool. Why don’t pool halls ever have kelly peas? Then on the way home we stopped in at this block where some of Singular’s office’s ridiculous 10-bedroom single-family homes are going up.


On Friday, the folks from The Onion were throwing a free viewing of Rock’n’Roll High School at the Vic. They were there giving out swag like “Let the Fucking Begin” shirts and a Ramones skateboard signed by Johnny Ramone. We had a drink and watched the cult classic. I have no idea where they managed to find a print of this old movie. The crowd was really into it, which was good for the most part except for some asshat sitting next to us who thought she was at Rocky. She was the only person yelling things at the screen, and they were dumb things. For example, in one scene the students throw their papers out the window of the school, and asshat-ra yells, “It’s a ticker-tape parade!” Oh, be still, my quivering belly! I cannot handle such hilarity being yelled while I’m trying to watch a movie!

The movie itself was fantastic. Amazing how the Ramones’ music stands the test of time. What didn’t stand the test of time was what was considered “punk rock” clothing… it was so free back then, so up to the individual. The punk rockers at the movie were all dressed in a tightly conformist uniform, which allowed variation only in the color and style of one’s hair. I wonder if the Ramones knew what a homogenous army they were creating when they first donned those leather jackets.

One of my favorite parts was that the Ramones almost seemed like they didn’t know the movie was being filmed. Who knows what they were on in this one… probably heroin, if Dee Dee’s death is any indication. But Joey always has this look like he thinks he’s just playing a gig, and so why is there a six-foot dope-smoking mouse over there and a guy cramming wheat germ into his mouth?


Saturday, a Herculean task was achieved as the Rat Patrol hauled a bunch of crap from Logan Square to Bridgeport. We had four trailers piled with bikes and bike parts and three or four escorts, making us look like a parade of bums. I can’t believe we made it without any incidents. I’m sure there’ll be a writeup at chicagofreakbike.org

Later that day, my ole buddy’s band 12RODS was playing at Double Door, so Singular and I headed down there. They played a good show, a nice mix of new and old compared to the last show in town which was the CD release. Ryan does this thing where he’ll see a fan in the front row who knows all the words, and he’ll let the fan sing a verse… it’s a nice touch, the ultimate recognition for the obsessed disciple.

He also put us on the list and let us drink comp beers with him the green room, two things that are minor to him but can really mean a lot to friends not used to such privileges.

In fact, it was The Week of Nice Bands. At that same show, the lead singer for the opener (Phistine Verona) introduced himself to us because he had seen us diggin the tunes he was delivering earlier. I’m a sucker for any band with a moog, especially if they throw out a 2/4 beat now and then. Then, today, I get an email from James of the Polkaholics, saying thanks for mentioning the band on the webpage and “those lederhosen rocked!” Damn right they rocked. It’s easy to rock out in black leather and studs… it takes true rockin’ness to do so in green leather short-shorts.

Could this be the beginning of an era of considerate, appreciative rockstars? Nah, I probably just been listening to too many assholes.