Some Velvet Morning

By Rob Gillaspie

Wednesday, October 4, 2006

What the hell happened to all the interesting looking people in this town? Back in my day, a fella gussied up before stepping out... Combed some Fop through his hair, buttoned up his best frilly shirt, and spent forty minutes preening in front of the mirror before finally revealing himself to the public eye. Going to a rock show was like heading out on safari-- You spent as much time gawking at the downtown wildlife as you did listening to the music... Taking and comparing notes, snorting in disregard, plotting your next Big Splash as an image-whore on the scene. And I'm not talking about the whole grade-school-clash-day look that all the young hipsters are shooting for lately. Once upon a time, the local underground was stuffed to the bursting point with fascinating people, genuine mad-science types whose very physical appearance seemed to be a fun-house reflection of their subconscious manias. Where have all these people gone?

From the looks of things, they grew out their beards, dropped twenty IQ points, and traded in their bathtubs for a giant pair of faded overalls. The Adventure Hippie aesthetic has descended upon this town like a plague of lice-ridden hacki-sacks, bringing with it a fresh batch of patchouli-scented cave dwellers from the deepest cracks in the Earth... Each of them born of privilege yet strangely unwashed, hiding their sinister bursts of misguided testosterone behind a false veneer of, "Aw, shucks... I'm just a poor, whiskey drinkin' country boy! Yee-HAW!"

Look-- I'm as Joe Worker as the next guy. I drink cheap beer, I bitch about The Man, I laugh at the occasional fart joke. I sweat my ass off to make ends meet, and I'd wager one of my hard-earned paychecks that I have less money in the bank than your average dirt-worshipping, banjo-strumming trustafarian (On a side note, why is it that none of these guys can figure out the correct way to play a banjo? Every time I see one of these dreadlocked fucks hammering out power chords it makes my head EXPLODE... Look, buddy: You do NOT play a banjo like an electric guitar. Please post this in a memo to yourself for future reference)... But that doesn't mean I undergo some mystical Jekyll-and-Hyde transformation whenever some self-styled, faux-"bluegrass" musician takes the stage*, automatically devolving into some whiskey-belching, chest-beating sycophant with a forced drawl and a penchant for nose candy and woven-hemp outerwear. I may be a little rubie-dubie, but at least I've got CLASS.

As an example of my refined tastes, I'd like to present the newest addition to our household:

They say the Tears of Presley can cure any ailment, from blindness to the clap. But are they powerful enough to heal the existential wounds in my soul?

This is by no means intended as a slight against bluegrass music, which is a genre I hold very dear to my heart... But the microbrew-diluted mish-mash that passes for "bluegrass" in most circles is merely a notch less artistically significant than the most dreaded product of suburban culture-envy, RAP ROCK... I shudder to think what will happen when the unholy union between these two inevitably occurs.

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Posted by copt_a_feel (anonymous) on October 4, 2006 at 8:04 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Welcome to my world...I moved to Colorado 6 years ago (after spending my entire life growing up in Lawrence). I've been working in Boulder ever since. It's kinda sad to see good ol' Larrytown succumb to its inevitable fate…unfortunately, Boulder now, is what Larryville will be in, I’d say, about 10 years. At least Lawrence still has a middle class. If you live in Boulder, you’re one of three things – ultra-rich, ultra-poor, or a student, no in between. My heart will always belong to Lawrence (but I don’t miss the heat, and I fallen in love with the mountains).

The "fiesta of frenzy and fright" sounds wonderful...

Posted by scary_manilow (anonymous) on October 4, 2006 at 9:14 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Ten years? Hell, at the rate this town is sinking, I'll place money on an even FOUR.

Posted by quinno (Patrick Quinn) on October 5, 2006 at 7:29 a.m. (Suggest removal)

"Fop"?

<bitter, bitter hair-envy screed deleted>

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on October 5, 2006 at 8:14 a.m. (Suggest removal)

If it makes you feel any better, I and my collection of puke-stained prom dresses are still fighting the good fight, when we can. But I absolutely hear you. After six years of dyeing my hair utterly unnatural colors, I'm starting to get *those looks* in town. You know the ones, the looks that folks in, say, Iola give someone who looks like me. I've gotten so used to no one in town giving a damn, it's really freaking me out. Plus, the hostesses at Zen Zero have begun seating my spectacular ass right next to the bathrooms, as though I have to be hidden from the hipper clientele. That pisses me right the fuck off.

Posted by cutny (anonymous) on October 5, 2006 at 8:30 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Yeah...I don't man, twenty years ago it was all the rich kids in their tye-die shirts strumming their Bruce Cockburn covers on the patch of grass between the Crossing and Yello Sub. Then they'd hop into their convertible Volkwagens, plastic beads dangling around their neck and head off to shroom somewhere. I destested them, and they likely destested me, as well. There will always be posers. The clothes change, but the people never do.

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on October 5, 2006 at 10:18 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Heheheh.... It's not that I don't have some sympathy or empathy for the complaint and comments. It's just that you all sound so "OLD" to me (who is already much older then you all) when you talk about "The Good Old Days"! It's a bit like what those of us in college in the 70's thought about the 80's era kids...etc...... EVERY generation feels much the same, as the next one takes over center stage. Wait a few more decades. Nothing - and I mean nothing - ever stays the same.

Posted by rednekbuddha (Kelly Powell) on October 5, 2006 at 10:30 a.m. (Suggest removal)

C'mon man, you got to love the too tight western shirts and "ironic" trucker hats........Add the gay pornstar stash and that spells class!

Posted by OtherJoel (anonymous) on October 5, 2006 at 12:20 p.m. (Suggest removal)

I don't want Fop; I'm a Dapper Dan man!

Posted by lori (anonymous) on October 5, 2006 at 12:38 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Rob wrote:

"What the hell happened to all the interesting looking people in this town? Back in my day, a fella gussied up before stepping out..."

The kids and I were downtown yesterday afternoon, and we saw some fellows (? I *think* they were dudes) in full ICP regalia. They were definately interesting looking, and I guarantee they had spent more time on their makeup and attire that afternoon than I have in my entire adult life--which, in all honesty isn't probably saying much, but you all get the picture.

Not really the look I assume you were thinking of, but I just wanted to assure everyone that, when the stars (and shows) align properly, you can indeed find interesting looking, gussied-up whippersnappers in good ol' downtown lawrence.

Posted by tomking (Tom King) on October 5, 2006 at 12:49 p.m. (Suggest removal)

The tears of Elvis Presley could indeed cure cancer--also warts, dyspepsia and sexual ennui. But he cried only once in public, at his mother's funeral, and he wiped his eyes on his coat sleeve. That coat, however, from that momemt on, never again needed dry cleaning.

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on October 5, 2006 at 12:54 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Personally, I noticed (and admired) the green eyed pussy cat on the couch far more!! She/he seems to be purrrrrrfectly happy knowing all the secrets of the universe, and not sharing them.....

Posted by pissykitty (Melissa Lynch) on October 5, 2006 at 2:45 p.m. (Suggest removal)

I actually OWN that Elvis record that the painting is from. Elvis: A Legendary Performer Vol. 2. It even has the false starts from the studio session on "Such A Night". I believe it has helped cure my depression, and the plantar wart on my roommate's left foot disappeared moments after she accidentally stepped on the empty (thank the gods) jacket for the record...

Ladylaw is right, we all sound too old for our own good. We're just jealous, you know.

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on October 5, 2006 at 3:09 p.m. (Suggest removal)

lori--Yes, it was ICP regalia. ICP was scheduled to play the Grenada last night, but had to cancel. I'm sure downtown was pretty interestingf yesterday evening as a result. But Juggalos don't count.

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on October 5, 2006 at 3:10 p.m. (Suggest removal)

And those aren't tears, folks, just sweat.

Posted by scary_manilow (anonymous) on October 5, 2006 at 4:46 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Whoa, hey! I didn't expect anyone to comment on this, so I haven't bothered to check it all day... You like me, you REALLY like me!

Quinn: No need for envy... I'm sure Miss Edie would be more than happy to lend you something form her fabulous wig collection.

Mitzi: Sometimes, at Zen Zero, it's best to be seated as close to the bathroom as possible. And I need more info on this "puke stained prom dress" phenomenon, please...

Joel: I'm glad someone caught that, and I'm glad that person was you.

Ladylaw: His name is Vincent Price, and he IS quite admirable-- though I wouildn't give him credit for knowing the secrets of ANYTHING. He scratches the walls and ceiling of the litter box when he's done taking a crap, and has been known to pounce upon knotholes in the hardwood floor. Not the brightest bulb in the box, I can assure you... But we love him anyway.

Lori: Some of those ICP kids totally "rioted" out in front of the Granasty yesterday afternoon when they saw that their clown-painted godheads wouldn't be preforming, after all... It was like the Hive-Mind failed for a moment: Confused shouting, running in circles, and misdirected hostility, followed by long hours of stumbling up and down the street in broken clusters of terminal sorrow. I wish, I WISH, I could have felt bad for them, but hopefully the shame of having to walk up and down Mass street all night in clown makeup and baggy shorts will be just the jolt those kids need to find something useful to do with their lives.

Posted by rednekbuddha (Kelly Powell) on October 5, 2006 at 7:15 p.m. (Suggest removal)

I've allways wanted to get a bunch of people dressed like characters from shakes the clown and go fuck with the jugalos......

Posted by lori (anonymous) on October 5, 2006 at 8:31 p.m. (Suggest removal)

I'm not sure I had ever encountered the ICP followers before; but the hubby, being the high school teacher dude he is, informed me about the terminology: the jugalos, and their female counter parts, the jugahos.

Yeah, I wasn't really feeling sorry for them, either; but I couldn't deny it, they made people watching downtown pretty interesting yesterday. My kids had a moment of panic, thinking they had maybe screwed up and almost missed Halloween.

Posted by pissykitty (Melissa Lynch) on October 6, 2006 at 8:37 a.m. (Suggest removal)

what's a juggalo?

Posted by cvillehawk (anonymous) on October 6, 2006 at 9:50 a.m. (Suggest removal)

"Fop"?

<bitter, bitter hair-envy screed deleted>

I'm a Dapper Dan man, myself.

Posted by cvillehawk (anonymous) on October 6, 2006 at 9:58 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Note to self: read ALL previous comments before making allegedly clever pop-culture response.

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on October 6, 2006 at 10:09 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Of course we like you Rob. Why wouldn't we? Clawing by cats is like nail chewing by humans. It relieves tension and helps keep them from doing something worse!! As for jumping on knot holes, he is in quite likely merely pretending it moved. However, I think that cats see spirits, so he may also be jumping on tiny ghosts to protect you! LOL. If he is terminally dumb, I have his sister; Ellie (Black and white). She's as ditzy as any natural blonde but really sweet. And her thing is playing with used q-tips...ewwwwww. He's really beautiful (but of course I have a thing for black cats). Vincent Price is a great name, and it's really funny b/c that's the next baby name Misty has picked out! I kid you not!! LOL. And do explain the juggalo nom de plume to those of us who are not in the know...I confess to being hyper-un-hip...

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on October 6, 2006 at 10:25 a.m. (Suggest removal)

pissy--A Juggalo is a fan of the Insane Clown Posse.
rob--Well, I've a collection of old prom dresses I've picked up at garage sales. Not suprisingly, most of them now have vomit stains on their tulle and 1979-yellow-satin. I think that simply lends them character. There was a day when you'd find me clad in one of the dresses, my beautiful bald head adorned with a Sharpie pirate treasure map and one of my tiaras, staggering around with a bottle of Old Crow and crashing college-kid house parties most every weekend. Ah, good times, good times.

Posted by pissykitty (Melissa Lynch) on October 6, 2006 at 12:23 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Well, not Vincent Price, but Vincent nontheless. Vinnie Nuckolls - he's bound to be a teamster...

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on October 6, 2006 at 4:13 p.m. (Suggest removal)

And Vincent Marcellus Nuckolls is a suitably villanous full name if he decides to follow family tradition and become a lawyer. . .

Posted by edie_ (anonymous) on October 6, 2006 at 5:58 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Ladylaw: The photo doesn't depict how really LARGE el gato is. His paws are MASSIVE. It's true that he's got an inbred uncle daddy I.Q. but he's got a good fake-it-til-you-make-it attitude about that and loads up his audience with superlative charm and personality, not to mention that he's very sweet and affectionate with kids. Such a devastatingly handsome devil like Vincent fits in perfectly with the rest of Sleazetopia. (ha ha)

I'm especially reverent to this particular Black Velvis because of the bizarro strango EAR on the side of his head. If you look at it wrong (or RIGHT in my jurisdiction) it looks like an odd flesh HORN curling out of the King's temples. A cursed mutation from dead twin Jessie? I guess we'll never know. Perhaps that's what accounts for the glycerin crocodile tear. "A ding dang doo...Iove me tender and love my tender horn. I'm taking care of business in a flash and gettin' me some peanut butter banana sandwiches to cry over." In all seriousness I love Elvis.

On the other hand, about this blasphemy on the banjo: If you never learned to play banjo in the first place, do not take it out on the rest of the world by getting on stage with your five stringer and doing power chords. This is the kind of incident that deeply janks up my humors.

Posted by lori (anonymous) on October 6, 2006 at 6:16 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Argh Edie! Now I can only see a flesh horn, where all I saw before was an errant wisp of hair!

Posted by OtherJoel (anonymous) on October 6, 2006 at 10:22 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Woo hoo! Now I can play some Nirvana on me banjo!

http://www.musiciansfriend.com/product/D...

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on October 7, 2006 at 12:10 a.m. (Suggest removal)

ooooo..he's a BIG black cat...I think I'm in love. LOL. My little female black cat (Schatze) is smart smart smart, but wary of all things male (proving the point?), so doubt she'd enjoy Mr. VP's company. Still, bet he purrs LOUD! I've rarely met a cat that did not like me.... and vice versa! Very Nice el gato....

My brother USED to play a wicked blue grass banjo. In his first entry at the Winfield Festival's banjo picking contest he got into the top 5 finalists, with his own blue grass arrangement of "somewhere over the rainbow" (truly, it sounded really good)... Ahhh. Good memories. The many many many days/nights of practice (in my garage) and how he'd concentrate so hard I'd think he was going to chip a tooth (but never crack a smile). It was "the good old days" in some respects (sneaking beer into the festival in a trunk). But now, he works too hard and plays too little. Maybe he needs a little more black cat in his life? LOL.

Misty, now watch; there'll be a sudden surge in Vincent Marcellus's! LOL.....

Some Velvet Morning

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