Park and Hide: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being a Straggler

This blog is going to act as a public service announcement to anyone considering using the Hollywood Bowl "Park and Ride" service. As it turns out, the times are NOT "suggested" arrival time options but instead are the firm time choices that are available for your shows' specific start time.

I learned this the hard way. Allow me to scare you straight.

The day before the Radiohead show I drank like a champ. For no good reason on Sunday I had 6 jaeger bombs and countless beers and other drinks at The Victorian, The Beer Garden, O'Briens, and my house. It made for a great Sunday, but a miserable Monday. This led me straight to the Park N Ride as I planned to rest and rebound in a bus on the way to the venue. Oddly enough, when I arrived at the Santa Monica DMV there were ZERO people waiting for the bus. I thought I couldn't be more worried at that point. I was wrong. Shortly after discussing what to do w/ my roommate Pat, who was kind enough to drop me off, another Radiohead fan showed up. Her name was Monica and she was bat shit nuts. She clearly made the same mistake I did and was having a self admitted freak out. Besides questioning who I was calling when I used my phone to try and verify the p-n-r info she questioned the West Side. Her theory, which clearly ignored the full parking lot, was that there weren't any Radiohead fans on the Westside and that was the reason there was no one waiting for a pick up. I was way too hungover to humor her insanity so I peppered in a few subtle zingers as I tried to figure out my next step. Truth be told I was fucking terrifed of her. CRAZY EYES! Luckily Monica's friends showed up and, following a long brainstorming session, decided they'd drive to the Bowl. After a quick deliberation, they agreed to drive me as well. Kids, I don't advocate taking rides with strangers, but this was for Radiohead. It wasn't like someone asked me to get in their van to help them find their lost puppy (ed note: People, wise up. There's never a lost puppy!). Also, the driver, Nick, was a spot on stunt double for my buddy Schellman...except a Mexican version. John Mexico. Super trust worthy.

Michael Vick would be so proud...en el trato.

The car ride consisted of Monica complaining the entire fucking time, and her friends either rolling their eye balls or telling her to "try and have fun". Why would John Mexico, Bizarro Annie, and the Bourne Ultimatum 2.o want to hang out with such a Debbie Downer. When she found out that someone threw a "Singles" party and she wasn't invited she belted out over and over again: "BUT I'm single (shocker!) Why wasn't I invited?" Oh Monica, I just met you and it's completely obvious why you weren't invited. Her friends made some lame excuse and changed the subject.*

As the straggler, I really wanted to shtick it up by doing the Seven Minute Abs bit from "There's Something About Mary"...but i thought better of it as I was insanely hungover and I feared being dropped off on the 101. (Note: this is also the reason i have no pics of the motley crew. That would've punched my express first class ticket to Creep City.)

"Bingo, man, bingo. 7-Minute Abs. And we guarantee just as good a workout as the 8-minute folk"

At this point I learned we'd be detouring** to John Mexico's boss' house. Hmm, part of their scam perhaps. Get a straggler alone in the Hollywood Hills and then steal his tix. Genius really. My fears were put to rest when we arrived and I realized the boss could probably buy the Hollywood Bowl. They had a friggin Warhol for christ's sake. I knew this because the boss's wife insisted on giving a tour, even when I tried to politely decline by saying "Thanks, I'm good....I'm a straggler. No tour needed." I think she thought I was kidding. A friggin Warhol. Nuts. I was impressed. As evidenced by my living room, I'm a huge art fan:

Matt points out the rich textures of my Bob Ross original knockoff .

After some small talk..and some not so small Monica complaining we jumped into the boss' car and made our way to the Bowl. Of course Monica didn't miss a fucking beat, as she took this second car ride as an opportunity to unnecessarily insult John Mexico's car." Seriously, why did these people hang out w/ her? Luckily it was a short ride, but not short enough as John Mexico and his boss gave each other goodbye European cheek kisses to go along with the standard bro hug. I didn't need to see that. After that we went our separate ways and I met my buddy and headed to the seats and never looked back.

What lessons have we learned?
You know what...I'm not sure I learned a lesson as I'd rather ride w/ strangers than drive to the Hollywood Bowl. That Tetris stacked parking is a fucking nightmare.

Actual Radiohead concert notes:

Ed Grimley + Gary Oldman in "The Professional" = Thom Yorke. Stop trying to come up with a better comparison. It's impossible.

Steve Nash is apparently now playing bass for Radiohead.

No pic needed: Johnny Greenwood is a bad ass guitarist.
Set List
1. Reckoner
2. Optimistic
3. There There
4. 15 Step
5. All I Need
6. Pyramid Song
7. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
8. The Gloaming
9. Videotape
10. Talk Show Host
11. Faust Arp
12. Tell Me Why (Neil Young Cover)
13. No Surprises
14. Jigsaw Falling Into Place
15. The Bends
16. The National Anthem
17. Nude
18. Bodysnatchers
19. House of Cards
20. Planet Telex
21. Go Slowly
22. Fake Plastic Trees
23. True Love Waits Intro/Everything In Its Right Place
24. Cymbal Rush
25. Karma Police
26. Idioteque


Unexpected Highlight: "Tell Me Why". I've never heard the Neil Young version and I don't care. This is now an instant classic Radiohead song in my mind.


Radiohead :: "Tell Me Why" (neil young cover) from gorilla vs. bear on Vimeo.

Sad Lowlight: "True Love Waits". It broke my heart that I could barely recognize this usually great song because it was reworked into a bizzaro organ infused death crawl. The fact that it was my "Man, I hope they play that song" selection, made it that much worse.

Weirdest thing I noticed because I was so hungover I was forced into sober ultra awareness: The asian girl next to me who would laugh uncontrollably EVERY single time she looked at the stage through her binoculars. WTF. Maybe they were displaying reruns of Full House or America's Funniest Home Videos up there. Saget is one funny fuck.


* Turns out Moncia was offered the ticket day of...which usally translates into "Hey...um...we couldn't find anyone else to come w/ us and we don't want to eat the cost...so...um...i guess...um..if you want to come...bring your cash!"

I would have given my ticket to Hitler before her!


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Now playing: Ramones - Needles and Pins [Sire Remixed Single Version]

Free Girl Talk: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Dance Awkwardly

A little more then a month ago i posted a link on Facebook (the bane of my blogger existence) that allowed people to download the new Girl Talk CD for "free". I'm re posting it here because...well just because it kicks so much ass.

DOWNLOAD IT NOW

Another reason I'm re posting it is because some douche at Facebook flagged the link as "malicious content". A bit harsh I'm thinking...but the album does attempt to kick your ass so I suppose Facebook is partly right.

For you goons who might get confused by the transaction questions on the page, follow these instructions:

* Click on the link
* Submit a payment price of $1.00 (you don't really have to pay FYI)
* Click feed the animals
* Select My paypal or credit card account is inside the United State
* Click feed the animals
* Click here to begin download

It's that simple. Unzip the file and put on your dance shoes.

For anyone out there questioning the integrity of not paying you should know that by spreading the love I've sold countless Girl Talk concert tickets...and that's where the money is at. Don't you judge me!

Here is an example of the good times that can be had fueled by Girl Talk and the appropriate amount of jaeger bombs


Dodgers, Play Your Part (part II) from del lefevre on Vimeo.

and for all you visual learners here is a youtube video mash up that gives you an idea of the genius that is Girl Talk:

You''ll Never Measure Up: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Not Getting My Balls Cupped

Let's face facts: I'm lazy. Not in the extreme sense mind you. However, if I can passably take care of something in walking distance from my current location I will ALWAYS take that option over jumping into my car and finding the recommended route. At work I eat at the Lobby Trimanna FAR too often and I get my dry cleaning done from a one eyed Russian who almost always ends up staining my already considerably stained shirts or needs three more days to get me my clothes back. Pretty inconvenient for being "convenient". That said, I'd never consider going anywhere else. He's earned my trust by:

1) being in walking distance
2) always remembering my name (probably because I'm the only sucker dropping off my clothes to him)

Knowing this about me you'll now understand why when it came time for me to send in my measurements for a wedding I have to attend in Baltimore my first stop was this establishment.
I asked Boris to measure me but he said "Wait till tomorrow, the other guy is better. He is tailor. He do better job." I appreciated his honesty and agreed to come back the next day. I trust Boris, I've already established that....but I was a bit apprehensive of the unknown tailor. I'd always seen him in the shop and to me he always looked like Big Fat Bernie Gayle from "Safe Men"

possibly the source of all the stains.

I figured i should give him the benefit of the doubt and let him give it a crack. By "give it a crack" I mean cup my balls...in a totally professional manner. The guy started off by saying "in America they measure by inseam....but in my country this is how we do it."

Del: um.........OK
Tailor: I draw pictures...they understand.
Del: (under his breath) Shit

After 10 minutes of my awkward silence and his non nonsensical mutterings I was presented a piece of notebook paper. This was the end result:

























40 - 39 1/2? WTF does that mean?

Brest? WTF!?

West? WTF! Is that Vest or Waist? Or is that some Eastern European Hybrid?

I'm screwed. If I get 40" legs I'm going to look like Josh Baskin* after Zoltan granted his wish to go back to being a kid. However if i get 40" minus 39/12 I'll be so much worse off.

I had planned on slipping him a Lincoln ($5) for his efforts...but the results warranted a different kind of Lincoln (either a penny or a "Sic semper tyrannis"). Even still I scanned the measurements and sent them to my buddy in Baltimore which elicited a quick "Are you fucking kidding me reply?". I stood my ground and told him to submit the measurements just to get a reaction from the Baltimore counterpoint. Of course the tux guy there was dumbfounded. Rightfully so. I ended up having to spend a hungover Sunday in Men's Warehouse pretending like I was interested in buying crap so I could get some measurements.

Days later as I was dropping more dry cleaning off (to get stained), my one eyed friend asked how the tux measurements went. This is how the conversation went:

Boris: How did the tux fit?
Del: Oh, well the wedding isn't for awhile...
Boris: Ah, but fitting good...
Del: Actually, don't tell your friend but the guy in Baltimore could not follow the drawings...
Boris: What you mean. It was clear as day?
Del: Um, I don't know, he just said it was hard for him to follow..
Boris: Maybe HE not professional..
Del: Ha ha, yeah...maybe not...
(long awkward pause)
Boris: Here is your dry CLEANING (in all caps to stress his inflection)
Del: Thanks...oh, looks like the elbows are ripped.
Boris: That was like that before.
Del(mutters "crap" under his breath) Uh...OK. See you next time.
Boris: See you later Del

You see, He still recalled the name. You can't put a price on that...and laziness. Part of me wishes I stuck with the original measurements as an ode to Chris Farley. It's not often that my physique can pull of a "fat guy in a little coat" moment. This was my chance. ...and i squandered it!



















*Josh Baskin: Don't ever do a yahoo search on "Big".
Also try : hot fat big girls black, big horse woman hot WTF????