So it's about 3:00am and we're lost in the Atlanta countryside after a gig
looking for some girl's house... Dino had met her at the show that night so
of course, they were good friends.
"Have you ever BEEN here before?"
"No... but I have this flyer with directions..."
Dino is turning a crumpled piece of xerox paper over and over, around and
'round like Jerry Lewis inspecting a treasure map in an Egyptian adventure...
... in the dark, no less.
The big difference here is that I'm not Dean Martin and nobody's laughin'.
A car passes in the on-coming lane and Dino holds the paper up to catch the
light, but being Dino and therefore rather slower than the average human being
he misses the light entirely.
"Damn!"
And he's a DRUMMER. Timing is...
... oh forget it...
I hand him my flashlight and shift uneasily in my make-shift seat... this was
my first ride in The Skyshroud Behemoth and at this point I'm cursing myself
for not staying in the hotel, watching some tube, and falling asleep... but
the fact of the matter is I haven't written anything in a long time and if
this even just gets us arrested or me pissed off then it'll all be worth it...
Hell, I'm pissed already... "Mission Accomplished."
Lemme back up a bit here and introduce you to some of the new characters...
The Skyshroud was at one time a van... it has since been turned into home,
office, and dog kennel for two kids who've attached themselves to the DSO
hull like a pair of hemp-jewelry selling barnacles... the van itself is
painted "Modern-Day Prankster" with psychedelic swirls and a big cartoon
mushroom on the side doors... there are stickers and hippie slogans
everywhere and it gets the STRANGEST looks everywhere we go...
This rolling eye-sore is owned and piloted by Bells & her boyfriend Clover.
"A rolling 'Bust Me' wagon!" I hear you cry with glee, but oh no... they
don't carry nor do they allow any controlled substances or open containers of
alcohol in their vehicle...
These are some smart kids.
Well, except for Clover's lead-footed driving habits... but if speeding is
your worst vice, you're already head and shoulders above the rest of the
hippie nation.
They're actually really cool and they've managed to work their way into the
organization the same way the rest of us did: They carried stuff until they
got paid or at least on the permanent guest list.
Clover is a guy of about twenty-one years or so who's a bit of a space cadet
but he's got potential... quite a talented yo-yo artist and one of those
hippies you just instantly like, he's been taken under Dino's wing as a drum
tech to set up and tear down the extensive percussion rig we use to mimic The
Beast as well as Dino's kit because Dino (as previously stated) is slower
than the average bear... when he's not cleaning up after our drummer, Clover
hauls gear and ties hemp necklaces with his girlfriend Bells...
Bells (or Megan to us) is extremely intelligent, but she's somewhat guarded
about showing it. At nineteen, she has an air of worldly knowlege about her
that seems tinged with bitterness as if she might have had a rough time
growing up...
... then again, it could just be having to deal with Clover every day.
She's a beautiful little waif of a girl but after talking to her for a few
minutes you get the impression she can handle her business if she has to...
I'm scared to death of her.
She's been helping Lisa with our merch booth lately but sometimes we can't
get her into the 21+ venues so in that case she works the parking lots,
selling her necklaces... Clover got her started on tying them but by his own
admission she "kicks his ass on knots" now, inventing new ones daily I
guess...
"When you can snatch the pebble from my hand, Grasshopper..."
So anyway, these two ride around the country with us in their van... they've
been doing it for about four months and countless states now so y'all might
as well get used to seein' them around... I have...
So to get back to the story at hand, we're in the Behemoth in the dark
Atlanta countryside, and we're FRICKIN' LOST...
It's me, Clover at the wheel, Dino sitting shotgun, TC, Beau, Brian, and
Bells rolling around in the back with every turn... we're all nestled in
wherever there ISN'T a pile of Bells' & Clover's possessions... Beau is drunk,
and I'm hating life... TC is just staring at the ceiling.
"If we don't find this place soon can we turn around?" Beau asked.
"Dudes... I'm telling you... this is going to be worth it."
"Dino... NOTHING is worth this, OK?"
"Man... she's got CATS... BIG ONES."
So do I.
One of my cats is thirty pounds. I remain unimpressed.
There's a flourish of the xerox and Dino Lewis makes an important discovery a
half-hour into our drive:
"Oh wait... here... I was looking at the wrong side... here's the map."
"There's a MAP?!?!"
We finally pull up outside the fence of this place, and immediately I feel
sketchy. There are drunk people at the curb of the driveway leaning over a
fence... but more importantly...
THERE ARE HORSES LEANING OVER THE FENCE TOO.
It's dark on the road, but there are cars parked up and down both sides of
the street like some sort of John Hughes high school party...
WITH HORSES.
OK... I'm in. This looks like it could get weird.
We pile out of the Skyshroud like the ragged hippies we are and shambled to
the driveway, then DOWN the driveway, past various people in the dark and a
car that Dino was waving to as it sped away...
"That's her."
"Where?"
"In the car."
"OK... I'm lost here... that's WHO, specificly?"
"The one who invited us here."
"And she's... leaving?"
Beau looks around... "I'm getting the cooler."
Guess we're stayin'...
But Dig: We've driven out into the dark Atlanta countryside at the behest of
a girl who is now leaving this remote location in a 4x4... and Dino seems to
know EXACTLY what's going on...
Did I say "This Could Get Weird" or what?
Goooooood Start.
"Are we still WELCOME HERE?" I ask stupidly.
"Oooohhhyeah... I'm sure..."
There are people appearing, seemingly out of nowhere, and they want our BEER.
"Hey dudes.."
"What's up?"
"Nice cooler."
"Yep."
"..."
"So are you guys with the BAND?"
*phew*
At least they know who we are.
"Yeah... were you at the show tonight?"
"Haven't left."
"So you missed it then."
"No. Heard it."
"Here?"
"Yeah."
These people have NO idea who we are.
"No."
After brief introductions and it is determined that we present no immediate
danger (not to mention that the party is temporarily light in the liquor
department), our hands are shaken and our beer is shared.
Gotta keep the natives happy.
TC hands me a bottle of water, opens a beer, and sits down next to me in the
dark on this driveway...
"OK? What Next?"
We made our way out to the back yard area of this place... I say 'area'
because after you got to see the place you realized there was a LOT of place
to see... the house was sort of built into the hillside and around the back
patio there were these huge cages, sort of built into the house...
And there were cats, alright.
BIG ONES.
"It's a Syberian Lynx."
"A which-now?"
"Syberian Lynx... it's a wild cat."
No - as they say - shit.
I'm a cat person.
Go ahead, become thoroughly disenchanted with me... guys, lose all respect...
but I love the damned things.
There is nothing that embodies the word 'High' better than a cat in my
opinion... cats are the epitome of 'opium-cool' and contrary to popular
belief they are very social creatures... they have amazing protocols when
dealing with other animals and they have a highly evolved sense of smell...
they use scent as an important identifier as well as claw-marks on trees,
etc. to mark their world of influence... it's like leaving a tag with spray
paint in the 'hood letting you know who's turf you are on... each clawing has
a scent left by the cat that made it from glands in it's paws... likewise
there are glands in the nose area (which is why a cat rubs it's face on
things in addition, I would assume, to feeling good) as well as the "Morning
Business" end of the animal...
... pay close attention, because as usual in my little writings, this is
setting you up for the punchline down the road...
Yes, it involves defecation.
BUT IT'S CUTE. BEAR WITH ME HERE.
So I'm looking at these cats... technically a kitten I'm guessing... and this
is about the coolest thing I've seen for QUITE some time... I wonder what it
looks like full-grown...
"Who OWNS this place? Where ARE we?"
Our hostess' name (I hope I got this right) is Tabitha... and she eventually
gets back from whatever beer-running efforts took her from us so suddenly...
she's now ready for the Nickel Tour.
This is her folks' place, and they're up on a balcony overseeing this
late-night menagerie of drunks... in their...
... um...menagerie.
Feeling just a BIT weird suddenly realizing that a girl's parents... a girl
we don't KNOW'S parents... are watching our every move from a balcony, TC and
I walk briskly back out to the driveway around front...
"They're... HOME?!?! For this rampant HEDONISM that has obviously been going
on all night?!?! The patio is TRASHED!!!"
OK... calm down... if they're OK with my shaggy personage on their property
then so am -
"Who wants the cat tour?" yells our hostess... and there is a general drunken
"yeswoasure" from the assembled masses... she disappears inside the front
door of the house for a second and BANG!
The surrounding forest is suddenly extremely well lit.
AND FENCED.
I didn't notice the fence was electrified until I was past the first gate.
Suddenly I'm reminded of the Raptor opening of 'Jurrasic Park'...
There are signs on the gates that warn to make sure that the gate is LOCKED
BEHIND YOU... so that nothing ESCAPES...
OK... NOW I'm into this!!!
What we are walking through, I'm told by our hostess, is a complex of habitats
designed to hold sets of parent cats to repopulate the dwindling numbers of
endangered cats in the world... there are Bobcats and the aformentioned
Syberian Lynx, Ocelots, and who-knows what other types... but as we walked
these caged corridors I was introduced (in one case face-to-face) with some
of the most beautiful animals I could ever hope to see... and not in a zoo
setting... it was an amazing experience to be that close to them, being the
city kid I am, and not FROM Africa, like the odd Ocelot.
I'm in Heaven.
Heaven with a bunch of drunks making far too much NOISE and scaring the poor
things so that I can't get a decent look at some of them...
... and one drunk in particular is beginning to get on my nerves... one I
begin to want to see in the cage with one of these beautiful creatures - it's
soft, regal mouth full of her THROAT...
Why is it that extremely attractive women can't take a back-seat to... well...
ANYTHING?
... when it comes to being the center of attention at a party?
She just wouldn't SHUT UP... this mouthy blonde bimbette in an expensive
looking society-class tight little cocktail dress... Gucci or Armani or
Whatever, I'm sure..."over-dressed", basically... and girls like her never
seem to get what's coming to them unless it's a sorority social and a trust
fund, y'know???
... but never underestimate the power of the cat.
I was checking out this Bobcat named Sadie... our hostess introduced me.
"She's been here a long time. She's older than ME."
Great.
Not that any of my behavior thus-far could have the word 'statuatory' added to
it in a court of law, but you understand...
"Older than you, huh? So is she tame?"
"Oh yeah... she's real friendly... you can touch her if she comes to the
wire..."
She did, and I reached through the wire...
I'M PETTING A FUCKING BOBCAT.
"Hi Mom."
OK... I'm glad as HELL now that I didn't stay in the hotel room, watch some
cable, and crash... this is MUCH cooler. I mean, there's only so many times
you can watch Shannon Tweed getting naked in YET ANOTHER bad thriller and
then it just loses it's luster...
But THIS.
I'M PETTING A FUCKING BOBCAT, OK???
The mouthy blonde just fades away in the significance of it all...
I'm feeling this amazing cat, so close, PURRING to my touch... a deep, heavy
purring sound with not just a little hint to the power that lies beneath...
we're sharing a MOMENT, this cat and I... I've wanted to do this for EVER, be
this close to a cat this size... and it LIKES me... or at the very least I
don't piss it off...
No, I think it really LIKES me...
... likes me SO much, infact, that it turns it's haunches to me and -
"WOAH... Glad I moved outa THAT line o' fire!"
The cat, having rubbed it's face on me, had attempted to mark me further...
The claws would have been a less permanent proposition if you know cats at
all.
This is a completely natural response and actually I should feel honored in a
sense that this magnificent beast wanted to include me in it's world, a thing
to be remembered and treated with favor... and I need to clarify here I
think... it's not like there was a JET of cat urine or anything... it's more
like a misting... a spritzer if you will... of glandular scent and wiz...
But kitty pee is kitty pee, and endangered or no, that stuff STINKS.
When you own cats there's something you get used to if you're going to
cohabit with these superior beings, and that's throwing things away once they
get hit with Cat Cologne.
It just don't EVER come out of NOTHIN'... throw it away... move on... "I
didn't like that shirt anyway"... it gets to be a mantra...
So back to our drunk blonde friend for a minute...
Realizing that the cats were indeed going to steal her thunder for the moment
she decided to make friends with the fellow attractions... there-by
increasing her airtime by sharing the light with creatures who obviously
interested the boys more than she did, being soaked to the gills and such a
VERSATILE conversationalist as she was due to this fact...
'Drunk Dumb & Bim' is no way to try and go through life, and the cats were
going to tell her so... at least in MY eyes, in retrospect, that's what went
down...
As this vapid floozy bent down and said "Pretty Kitty" ol' Sadie let her have
it.
All OVER this girl.
And being "sheets" (to be polite about her condition), she didn't
see/feel/smell anything... not, at least...
... until she sobered UP, I'm sure...
Bet that dress got retired.
"Thanks Fer Comin' Buh-Bye Now!".
TC caught the whole thing too, and we fell down laughing for hours afterword
talking about it... that one scene had made the entire trip worth it, and we
were just getting started...
This place was AWASH with possibilities.
The next stop in my little "Marlon Perkins Fantasy Camp" involved cute,
adorable, fuzzy little versions of what we had just seen out in the habitats,
put in my hands to hold and play with... a Lynx kitten and a Bobcat kitten,
just as cute as Monday is long...
... cute little suckers with RAZOR CLAWS and of course, little in the way of
"house training" ... so it was advised that we hold them with the towels we
were given under them or they might -
"Gaaaaaahhhhh-DAMMIT!"
Oh Brian.
"At least it's just poop." I offered.
"JUST PO - The thing took a SHIT on me!"
"Hey Brian, it could be worse... see that girl in the cocktail dress? Lemme
tell you a little story..."
After the kittens got bored with us we put them away and got back to the
party...
... which had fizzled to a few semi-conscious people on the patio, the
ominous and ever-watching parents, and the drunk kitty-pee girl, looking for
attention...
TC and I avoided her.
Dino and Beau had found 'Tour Guides' of their own, which just left me,
Bells, Clover, TC, and Poop-Shirt Boy to amuse ourselves...
... I looked around at the passed-out on the patio...
...yyyyeeeeeeaaaahhhhhhhh... weeeeelllllllll... BEEN A SLICE, BUT...
"Can We Go Now???"
Simple Math Time:
Beau+girl and Dino+girl= Not A Fucking Chance.
Fair enough.
I tried.
Now you'll be sorry. I'm not sure HOW, but I will have my revenge.
Bells and I wandered into the house.
To my way of thinking it was get into trouble or get on the road, and...
well... rich folks have such NICE THINGS... but before I could get into my
usual game of "Household Appliances: Just One Use Or Many?" or find a fish
tank to over-feed, the voice of an angel came to me... she said:
"Heeeeyyyy... they've got a PLAYSTATION."
I liked Bells a WHOLE LOT MORE at this point... just for saying that... the
WAY she said it... it was like the thirteen year-old vidiot geek in me found
the perfect woman...
"Wow... she's pretty AND she likes video games... " pushing my glasses up on
my nose and staightening my pocket protector...
"I wonder if she grasps the subtle side of English Comedy... Willikers!"
So we fired up a lil' Tony Hawk Pro Skater and we did a little skate
boardin'... some tricks, y'know... one of the few games that awards you for
"Popping an Ollie"...
... I used to see guys get beat up for that in the locker room... my, how
sport has changed...
Anyway, I was getting pretty good at it, y'know... and for several
consecutive runs now I was out-scoring Bells so I thought I would let up and
let her win a few, but not before I got in a shot - after all I'M A GUY -
"Hey Bells... I'm KICKIN' YER ASS!"
That - my friends - was the last round, for the rest of the night, that I
won...
Try as I MAY, try as I MIGHT...
Megan... "Bells"... kicked my ass SO BADLY... so VICIOUSLY... that I had to
finally quit before I hit her and took my ball and went home cryin'...
Like I said, the girl scares me to death.
One futher point to this little video challenge... we were both vying for the
Spine-Melter 2000 while playing... they had one of those chairs that you
could set to massage you from head to toe in a variety of ways, with and
without heat... 'Slow', 'Medium', and 'Who Needs A Man' settings, of course...
Getting my ass kicked by a girl, a chair doing more for her and me than I was
capable of doing on my own...
The sun was coming up.
... it was all too much...
It was time to GO.
So we rounded up Dino and Beau ("If you can't put her down then just bring
her with you" I remember saying... Beau doing just that) and headed back to
the hotel to get some rest...
... after all we had the last show of the tour to do that night...
Gotta keep yer mind on business SOME of the time, y'know?
Thanks Dino-Man, I'm glad I went.
Ed Note: We received an email from the parents of the party hostess who, quite to my surprise, were NOT ticked off at the way their affairs were splattered over our pages. They even offered the following link to their website. CLICK HERE
Thanks Fred & Bobbie!