So, Friday was the concert at Skippers Smokehouse (brought to you by Downtown West Events, Paragon Music, and sticksoffire.com). I rolled in about 7:30, in order to ensure I could make the start the show with a drink in hand. This is my natural reaction to live shows featuring bands I’ve never heard of before, because as we all know, booze makes everything better.
I arrived, saying hello to Tommy and Wifey (whom I had previously met once in passing), and meeting Joel, his wife, and Wendy for the first time. Not long afterwards, the irreprecible Kate arrived, and the circle of Tampa blogger hotties was complete. Conversation was had (indulge me while I attempt to pull an L here) including the popularity of “Mommy” bloggers, dinner with James Dobson, the butchering of Ozzy Osborne, male cattiness, dancing the jitterbug, and unenthusiastic 14 year-old groupies.
I guess that wasn’t very L-like, considering every one of these topics actually had something to do with what was going on. But I digress.
During the show, Kate kept getting text messages - while she said they were just from her friends checking up on her, I happened to sneak a glance at one of them while she was gawking at the perfect coiffure of the roadie/dad for Hat Trick Heroes:
From: Jerry
Come home, Ben misses you. We rented “The Notebook”. Boy, is the couch comfy.
Not really sure what that’s about.
Oh, there was also some music (brought to you by Downtown West Events, Paragon Music, and sticksoffire.com). Rappongi’s Ace was a good surprise - kinda a White-Stripes-ish duo with more blues rock leanings. And while I’m all for guys playing music to get chicks, you don’t have to invite them on stage to sing with you in order to close the deal, guys. Leave Yoko in the audience and stick with what really works. The previously-mentioned Hat Trick Heroes brought energy and a couple of cover songs (in addition to their own tracks) that, honestly, must be seen to be believed, including a rendition of LA Woman that had Jim Morrison spinning in his bed in Paris.
As for the headliners (brought to you by Downtown West Events, Paragon Music, and sticksoffire.com), there are really only two things I can say about them:
- The bassist looked like he needed a doctor after the first four songs on stage. Somebody schedule that man a triple-bypass, stat.
- “Child Eaters” might be the finest punk song ever written. With the possible exception of every other punk song ever written. Pairing it with a three-dollar toy doll was nothing short of pure genius.
I’d like to thank Tommy for the invitation and a fun evening. I’d like to thank Joel for the beer and conversation, Wendy for being fun and not scared of my hairline, and Kate for being willing to give all this up for Focus on the Family socials and Bill Frist rallies. You go, girl. (And you can read her take on the evening as well).
This post was brought to you by Downtown West Events, Paragon Music, and sticksoffire.com.