(Notes from 05/04/13)
1) First stop MAYDAY (or Gypsy Hut to you older blowhards) which also marks a return of sorts for me to this location. I’m ashamed to say this but this was my first trip to what is now known as Mayday.
a) "I haven’t seen that many people in Mayday ever!" said the patient and understanding The Panther. This day was 'May the 4th be with you' event. Star Wars themed trivia... And a pig roast! If you believe it...
b) Taking the advice of the painting upon the northern facing wall of Mayday The Panther gets us whiskey on the rocks. Mark 'Maketewah' Zero and AJ finds us... At one point the infamous Tatooine bar scene music from the film (on Mayday SS (sound system) and I feel like ca universal oddity and make reference to it... "Fuck man... I hope some Jedi doesn’t come in here and cut my arm off” I say to someone.
c) "Your hair is so long!" Troy tells me as he hugs me and tells me he misses me and loves me. Sentiments are returned. Finishing the whiskey a decision is made to retreat en force to a secret location for more whiskey.
d) "Brian, what the fuck are you doing?" I plead to him. "I’m cleaning out the drain" he responds. Brian McCabe who I’m starting to think may be my own personal imaginary personal Tyler Durden. His right hand up to his middle wrist is into Maydays floor attempting to clear it. What a guy!
2. "When AJ sez he is only gonna be a minute it never is" states Zero. AJ asked to return to his local to get a jacket. Mark continues his story "Once I was waiting and I turned off the engine and just listened to music using the battery power and by time he came out the battery was totally dead and the car wouldn’t start" soon though AJ does return with a new shirt, a leather jacket that Zero states as his Carlitos Way jacket and what we would discover was a 'chicken and a biscuit' wrapped up in a paper towel. I learned long ago from road trips associated with him and The Socials that AJ is a crumb-making machine. His feast makes his mouth chomping a hearable smack-smack-smack as the retreat leafs us back to a screened in porch and...Whats next? You guessed it! More whiskey.
3) Parties. A party. Fine and dandy... I accompany The Panther to the Northside UDF for beer and box wine. This same UDF was plastered all over local news after a brazened night time (Nite Crime) robbery involving three youths, a sawed of shotgun and pistols. Long time bruddy Max B. was seen being pushed to the ground and experienced a weapon being pointed at his head in an attempt of submission. If I was in Maxes’ spot I’m almost confidently sure that I wouldn’t handle it the way he apparently has. Max: Mental Giant.
a) No box wine available (fuck!) A thirty pack of High Life... In 'Red White and High Life' colored cans (fuck yeah!) After all these years and taste changes and shit... Guerrilla soldiers always stick to the basics because basics are STANDARDS. With High Life you know what you’re getting... Drunk+er.
b) I’m absolutely no good when it comes to talking about real estate. Please make note. Many times, I feel like a phantom spirit. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me. Take note.
c) Switching momentarily to beer from whiskey I see one of those giant poodle dogs, which I decide are way better than miniature poodles. "Holy shit! Look how big that fucking poodle is.. It's a giant."
d) Tine keeps slipping into the future. FUCK THE FUTURE! Hurry up and live motherfucker. Its time for Homemade Drugs at MOTR. Please note that I once drove in s Subaru that got up to 110 mph on Central Parkway.
4) MOTR PUB. My first time here too. Walking 14th Street in the Cincinnati Neighborhood of Over The Rhine I think of my bud and past manager John Merritt.
He told me as a little boy he use to watch out the window from his and his Moms apartment at all the action below at 14th and Main. John lived into his 80's his
Mom was 99 when she died. They both drank whiskey EVERY day. Please note.
a) MOTR use to be a place called COOPERS. A place where Jenny Fever of The Hypochondriacs punched a college dropout who had some sort of weird shit going on and finally found someone to do exactly what he wished for... For someone to punch him in the face. Jenny hit him three tines if I remember. Each punch harder than the last. I remember writing something in The Neus Subjex about it sounding like raw hamburger neat hitting a counter top. Why does no one ever noticed the sound of fighting?
b) HOMEMADE DRUGS are playing as soon as I enter the facility. I walk thru the crowd and invade the demusicalized zone... An area that is void of stand-closers and the band. This space is mine. I nestle in an area just between floor monitors. I get another whiskey shoved into my hands. The Panther at work. To my right is Zero as well as Rob S. Things are getting blurry at this point but Homemade Drugs acknowledge me and launch into "Walking". Rob S... You better be good to him Chicago! OR ELSE!!! Rob looks like he could be in The Embarrassment. He’s not though... A half glass of whiskey drops from my hand but is readily replaced with ... an Old Style? Life gets more blurrier by the moment ...
b1. Hurry up and Live You Motherfucker
c) At Mayday, as Brian promised I would dig SACRED SPIRITS and they were in fact good... I barely remember listening to them holding Another Old Style... Then another whiskey... Sacred Spirits, I had to check Homemade Drugs fb site to ensure the correctness of your name but that’s my fault not yours.
c1) I was totally under the assumption Sacred Spirits were from somewhere else than Cincinnati. They aren't. Wow, another cool band from Cincinnati! This place is a fucking creative factory! Decent ambient moody music. Fans of shoegazer rock take note.
d) I’m losing the Battle with sobriety or winning it depending on how you feel. The 20 minute Subaru drive thru downtown Cincinnati to the Northern Suburb of Fairfield-- And this time duration is in Subaru time... The Panther holds 3 of the top five spots in considering the top mph's I have ever witnessed. Actually, The Panther and I spent more time in the White Castle drive thru warning for food than actual driving. Zero was gone as was AJ. Just the Panther, Me and White Castles.... Being thirsty I ask fir water. Bad idea. Blackout drunk I finally succumb to all my vomit eat backs and explode. This is where The Panthers patience and understanding comes to bear in full force. He is one hell of a guy that admits to still being pissed at me the next day...But was still thankful of being able to get me out of the house... That is what I call a hero.
5) I surprisingly wake up and acknowledge my hangover making me feel bad THIS TIME! Usually my declining health leads to me feeling somewhat hangover most days so I did ok. A quick call and e-mail to the Panther who was en route to clean up my mess "There’s a puddle of puke in the floorboard of the Subaru where you sat." THIS is the humbling truth about me... Sometimes I have been known to be THAT GUY . Apologies to The Panther and then I find my clothing and cane and Medical boots. My T-Shirt and blue colored collard shirt are laying outside drenched in puke. My pants are in the kitchen covered in puke, which I find embedded in my beard. I can only imagine the horror I unleashed upon Panthers Subaru... I would cry if I weren’t so dehydrated... I promise myself and Panther and god himself that I’m not ever gonna get THAT drunk again but I’ve said that before a number of times... I’m not 24 years old anymore. I’m a 40 year old with the innards of a 70 year old... An MRI showing evidence of lesions and at least one stroke... So this time I REALLY promise this apocalyptic drunk is the last... Hopefully... Fortunately I acknowledge to myself this fact... God made Sundays for hangovers I tweet this on Twitter later in the day after several talks with myself, The Panther again and others... Nothing is more humbling than a good ol' drunk. Shit gets put into perspective rather quickly when you finally realize that blackout drunks are NOT really that incredibly cool... My thoughts strangely enough drift back to Mayday and the hog carcass they were open roasting... Some pig.
|Photo courtesy of Brian Niesz|