Imagine this... right in the middle of a guy's forehead.
Oh, crazy Transformers Guy, who haunts the 28 from Stonestown to Taraval, and quite possibly the L-Taraval line, you're a haunting reminder of letting oneself go to the point where one man's gut will transform into goo and will just sag, the skin of the stomach not being able to contain the mass of fat any longer and a big, nasty fleshy tarp will spill over the belt line, creating a protective barrier over the presumably small penis he hasn't seen since Bush Sr. was in office, losing the power to suck in, to the point not even a XXXL will cover your disgusting body properly.
You're a haunting reminder not to eat in public while waiting at the bus stop, especially cans of what I assume to be beef chunks with juicy gravy, hopefully not from Pedigree... because eating dog food in public is just one more sign of giving up.
You're a haunting reminder to not let your obsessions go too far. It's one thing to really like something and be more invested into it than other people, but to be a total, creepy otaku about it is just going too far. I mean seriously, who tattoos the Autobots ensignia on their forehead and expect "normal" human beings, especially women, not to look at you funny or disgusted and wanting to walk away?
You're a haunting reminder to respect the female sex, regardless if they're not physically attracted to you. These are some excerpts coming out of the mouth of Transformers Guy:
"I'm into women but not into bitches like you." --after some lady probably looked at him weird and walked away, probably not even talking to him in order to illicit that specific response
"I hate you fucking lesbians who hate men." -- probably still talking to the same lady who looked at him funny, probably not a lesbian
"That's why men are looking to Asian and Latina women because they know how to please a man... and American women are crazy." -- telling some guy sitting down, probably wanting not to be in this awkward situation
"Oh yeah, you're attractive. I'd like to bend over and fuck you if you weren't such a bitch." -- on some other day in the past, probably didn't say it like that, but said something vaguely familiar
I mean, seriously, I know there are women out there who think they're hot shit and will just roll their eyes if they even see a man they don't find physically attractive just glancing their way, but even I know not to make a huge scene out of it on the bus.
You're a haunting reminder to take my meds, not that I have any, but if I did, I seriously need to take it in order to function in society.
You're a haunting reminder that you could very well be the Onslaught of the darkest parts of myself and my dad, taking the darkest, deepest frustrations and rantings and otakuness and lack of proper fitness from me, multiplying it by a million, and fusing it with a super-hyper amplified version of my dad's machismo, misanthropism, and downright lack of inner monologue.
You're a haunting reminder that if anyone should ever find me as misogynistic and creepy and tactless (and smelly) as this guy, that Slightly-Less-Crazy me of today -- like right now today -- would want someone to mercifully take me out of my misery, for I have given up on my life and have all ready died, and the dark soul that has taken over the shell that I once resided in needs to be banished from this world before it hurts anyone else.
Oh, Crazy Transformers Guy, while you do make a typical bus ride more interesting than usual, I think I'll take boring over super crazy any day.
To those who aren't in-the-know, Peter is the one on the far left, or 9 o'clock, if this button was a clock.
So if you've read any of my previous entries to my blog, you all ready know how I feel about the Monkees. As of now, there's a slight-to-good chance I'll go to this year's Monkees show, depending on whether I can get my act together and talk to my friend about buying tickets and getting our asses down to wherever they're playing that's NOT San Francisco but it should be.
I missed out on the Michael Nesmith show because of scheduling conflicts with my friend who was interested and since I can't really enjoy a concert without a like-minded friend by my side, I just didn't bother, which is my own damn fault. So when Peter Tork scheduled a show in San Francisco, my friend and I jumped on top of that and got some tickets. I didn't realize how sweet these tickets were until we finally sat down in the Great American Music Hall and looked at the stage. And fuck, you would hope so with the price on that ticket, right?
Now I've been to the venue about twice in the past and I've sat in both the balcony and on the floor on respective trips, but I've never eaten dinner here. I had the pork spare ribs... and I shouldn't have gotten the pork spare ribs. It wasn't because they were bad... the meat was pretty good... but I am the most inefficient person in trying to get meat off of bones. Plus, I was eating in the dark since we got our food during the opener. Aside from that, I was feeling guilty while eating while the opener was playing, because honestly when I'm at a show, the music should be priority. I didn't really finish because the music was going on and I was getting into that and I felt a little frustrated trying to eat in the dark and paying attention to the music and all that. I had enough food to make sure the booze didn't completely fuck me over, though to be honest, I don't know if I really had enough booze to fuck me over... at least at the venue. The food was good and the service was cool, which is something I never get to say in regards to a concert show. I'm use to nachos and lemonade at the Oracle, not spare ribs with au gratin potatoes and asparagus and a Ring of Fire and a Fat Tire.
So on with the music. The opener was a guy by the name of John Wicks, who was the frontman for this band called The Records that was popular during the 70s... or was it the 60s? He did an acoustic set that was really good. I tried to listen to a couple of songs from The Records from Spotify, but I didn't recognize anything while I was listening to him play, except for his cover of "Yesterday." Wicks' accent reminded me a little bit like Fred Armisen's Ian Rubbish character, since he was British and all, but unlike Ian Rubbish, The Records were more power-pop, like The Cars and Cheap Trick, than it was punk. Steve, my friend's husband, really dug his performance and actually got to talk to him for a little bit after the show.
It looks like their big hit was "Starry Eyes," which he played acoustically (duh). This version is from the album.
So while trying to finish dinner, they played a short homemade movie that starred a very young Peter, probably during the late 50s/early 60s... not really sure. They were playing old Monkees songs but obviously that wasn't the original audio, if there was any, to the video. Basically the small movie has Peter Tork in love with this girl, who is with someone else. Desperate for her love, he goes to a psychic gypsy who gives him a love potion. At a party, he tries to slip the potion into her drink, but instead, slips it into a jug of lemonade or some type of drink. All the females at the party take a drink, even grandma, and chase him off into the wilderness, ending the short. It was cute, and it really looked like it could have been an episode of The Monkees, humor and all.
So the man of the night comes out and let me just point out something right off from the start... Peter Tork is a damn fine performer. People can play an instrument on stage perfectly, but some can't pull off the performing part once they get on stage. Not only can he play, but damn, he gets everyone's attention when he's up there. He's funny, his stories are entertaining and engaging, he plays three instruments while on stage (piano, banjo, and acoustic guitar) and he moves unlike someone of his age would stereotypically move. You would think he could break a hip moving his hips the way he does, but no. Maybe he does yoga? I don't know.
I'm not going to be able to talk about every song or every single detail, because my memory is a piece of shit... maybe it was because of the booze... maybe... maybe not... anyways, someone was awesome enough to actually know what was played and the order it was played in here on this site, so check it out, if you want to follow along.
So the entire gist of the show is that he talks about his musical career -- his background, his beginnings, the Monkees, and post-Monkeedom -- all while playing music in between the stories he tells. He talked about how folk music was more of his background, with some inspirations like Burl Ives, and played some music that he was use to hearing while growing up, like "Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho", which I only know because it was a "previously unreleased" song off the 90s re-release of Headquarters.
He talked about his time living in New York, playing in Greenwich Village, talking a little bit about the scene. He then talked about his move to Los Angeles and how he wasn't doing as well as he did in New York because everything is so spread out down there. He then told the story of how Stephen Stills suggested he audition for a role for the Monkees TV show, with the producers asking Stills if he "knew someone better looking but with 1/10th the talent," or something similar to that. It was funny, and I think it was meant as a joke. He had said that the pilot for the show tanked amongst the test viewers, but did way better when they added the personality interviews of each of the Monkees to the shows, giving the audience some background to who they were. This is a video of all the screen tests, since I can't find a separate video for just his, but if you want to see Peter's, it starts at 9m25s.
He talked about the time The Monkees created a traffic jam in front of the roundabout around the Arc de Triomphe for hours because the directors wanted zany action in Paris. While he was cramped up in a Paris hotel room, he wrote "Lady's Baby," an ode to his then girlfriend and her baby. He also sang his own song that he wrote for the movie Easy Rider that they rejected and went with something else. He went on to talk about his times after the Monkees and the bands that he formed, leaning more toward the blues nowadays. He sent the audience home happy with some more popular Monkees songs, playing "Shades of Gray" and "Daydream Believer" on a piano, and "Pleasant Valley Sunday" as an encore.
I was pretty happy with the show. I was hoping for more songs that he wrote for the band, especially the ones he wrote for the movie. Then again, he did play "Do I Have To Do This All Over Again?" at the beginning so I was happy about that.
We contemplated getting in line to meet Peter Tork, but by the time we got out of our chairs, the line was pretty big. Plus, we had to go to the bathroom -- there was no way I was shaking Peter Tork's hand with my spare rib greasey hands -- so we stayed in line for that. Fortunately the line for the bathroom wasn't nearly as long as the line for Peter. However, as we were waiting in line, the biggest moment of the night happened for me: Peter Tork came from a different door away from the bathrooms, and walked past the bathroom line, thanking everyone for showing up. That's right, I was eye-to-eye with Peter Tork while waiting in line for the bathroom. I don't know if I should be bragging about that, but fuck it, I was a foot away from Peter Tork! That made my week.
My friend Bernadette and her husband Steve were awesome throughout the entire night. We had a great time at the concert, and we had a fun time when we out to drink after giving up on waiting in line. Bernadette thought if we were last in line, we would be able to spend more time with him since there'd be no one behind us, but Steve thought that he'd be completely tired by then and would just want to get to his hotel room by then... and quite frankly, I kinda thought that, too, because I'd probably think the same if I was in that situation. But you know what, I never would be in that scenario where a hundred people would want to shake my hand and take a picture with me, so who knows... I might be thrilled that a hundred people want to meet me because they loved my music and just give each person my utmost attention. Either way, I was satisfied with the night.
But anyways, we went to Tommy's Joynt on the corner of Van Ness and Geary. Even though I'm a San Francisco native, this was my first time here. We didn't get any food because you know... spare ribs... but the beer selection there is pretty cool. I got myself a Grolsch because if I'm not talking about music and video games, I'm talking about Amsterdam. At the bar, we just talked more about beer and random topics that will stay between the three of us... mainly because my memory is shit.
So yeah, if you couldn't tell, I had a great time. It wasn't just the performers that made the night for me... it was mainly the company that was I keeping. This is why I can't go to concerts by myself. I need to enjoy it with someone, and even though most of the time I'm not drinking during or after a show, I'm still sharing my experiences with someone I like. It'll be nice to see the three remaining Monkees one more time just to get another Monkees concert in, but we'll see. But even if I go to the next concert, there's probably no chance I'll have a random encounter with any of the Monkees, or any artist I might see this year, like the one I had last Friday. Now if I could only meet Micky Dolenz at a barbershop and Michael Nesmith at a local grocery store, then my life will be complete. :D
