ThunderWeb V1.0
Saturday 9th August 2003 - Oklahoma City OK
Saturday morning in the D/FW area consisted of thunder, lightning, and buckets full of rain. Gloriously, although humid to the max, it was cool and refreshing, like the English weather that I was so used to. Then, the weirdest thing happened - and it hit me quickly - I now longed for home. All of a sudden, as I sat on the front porch, watching the torrential downpour, I seriously missed my family and I wanted to go home. Were they with me, I would never have given another thought to being homesick and could have stayed in America forever. Now, in the space of a few minutes, I was ready to leave and get back home.
We bade farewell to Davey’s Texas Wife, after she had taken us to a shopping mall and a half-price staff-discounted feed-up at Friday’s. We left D/FW at around 3PM. OKC was a late load-in so there was no hurry. Melissa, who had planned to head home to Denver, decided to come to OKC with us. A final showdown between Natasha and Greg and Melissa and Natasha was distinctly on the cards. Cue pyro!
We bade farewell to Davey’s Texas Wife, after she had taken us to a shopping mall and a half-price staff-discounted feed-up at Friday’s. We left D/FW at around 3PM. OKC was a late load-in so there was no hurry. Melissa, who had planned to head home to Denver, decided to come to OKC with us. A final showdown between Natasha and Greg and Melissa and Natasha was distinctly on the cards. Cue pyro!
A trcuk stop between Dallas and Yokel-o-homo City
And when we say; e-ee-ow! A-yip-i-o-ee-ay!
And they surely do in Oklahoma...
I don't mean to be cruel, but, come Oklahoma is unutterably dull. It gives the impression of being a state that thinks progressive is wearing underwear. I'm not saying that everyone who lives here is stupid, but I did meet a few who were as dim as a Toc-H lamp, and the rest are stupid.
When we got to The Green Door club, we were asked to show our passports by the brain on the door, in order to get our wristbands. Thinking that the cracker asshole was taking the piss, I asked him if he was taking the piss. I had decided that indeed, he must be. What did he think I was doing? I was on the list of entourage, I’d arrived with the band, in their bus and I was stood behind the bass player and drummer. As it was I didn’t want to find myself meeting lonely, old cousin Merle on a lonely stretch of Okie back road, so I got my passport. He grudgingly gave me my wristband and bade me “enter". Even the fascists in San Diego weren't that bad.
And they surely do in Oklahoma...
I don't mean to be cruel, but, come Oklahoma is unutterably dull. It gives the impression of being a state that thinks progressive is wearing underwear. I'm not saying that everyone who lives here is stupid, but I did meet a few who were as dim as a Toc-H lamp, and the rest are stupid.
When we got to The Green Door club, we were asked to show our passports by the brain on the door, in order to get our wristbands. Thinking that the cracker asshole was taking the piss, I asked him if he was taking the piss. I had decided that indeed, he must be. What did he think I was doing? I was on the list of entourage, I’d arrived with the band, in their bus and I was stood behind the bass player and drummer. As it was I didn’t want to find myself meeting lonely, old cousin Merle on a lonely stretch of Okie back road, so I got my passport. He grudgingly gave me my wristband and bade me “enter". Even the fascists in San Diego weren't that bad.
Swamp Ass
Oklahoma beer
Jesus tap-dancing Christ! I thought Natty Bo was bad but this witch's piss was disgusting. They have low alcohol beer here, presumably, to preserve the few braincells that have not been inbred out of the state. The only good thing to do with this state is electric-fence it in and turn it into the biggest prison in the world; that or just fuel-air bomb the shit out of it!
Maybe I was being unfair about Oklahoma's lack of, well, anything worthwhile. Perhaps I was just eager to get home...
No, I was right. Oklahoma is pointless. Nuking it is probably the best solution. It might raise intelligence levels amongst the survivors.
Anyway, we loaded in and went to secure hotel rooms for our last night on US soil. The shower was orgasmic to say the least, not that I was doing anything untoward in there, but the relief of removing sodden, dried, sodden, dried sodden clothing and languishing under a cold shower cannot be underestimated.
I was dreaming of getting home and spending at least a day in the shower. By this point I was really missing my girls. In twenty years I had never been separated from them for so long and as much fun as I was having, I really was missing them terribly.
Jesus tap-dancing Christ! I thought Natty Bo was bad but this witch's piss was disgusting. They have low alcohol beer here, presumably, to preserve the few braincells that have not been inbred out of the state. The only good thing to do with this state is electric-fence it in and turn it into the biggest prison in the world; that or just fuel-air bomb the shit out of it!
Maybe I was being unfair about Oklahoma's lack of, well, anything worthwhile. Perhaps I was just eager to get home...
No, I was right. Oklahoma is pointless. Nuking it is probably the best solution. It might raise intelligence levels amongst the survivors.
Anyway, we loaded in and went to secure hotel rooms for our last night on US soil. The shower was orgasmic to say the least, not that I was doing anything untoward in there, but the relief of removing sodden, dried, sodden, dried sodden clothing and languishing under a cold shower cannot be underestimated.
I was dreaming of getting home and spending at least a day in the shower. By this point I was really missing my girls. In twenty years I had never been separated from them for so long and as much fun as I was having, I really was missing them terribly.
It's Good-bye From Them...
The gig was very good. The Brats performed to their usual excellent standard and the Skeptix guitar player joined in for his party piece with them . The crowd was small, as we expected for OKC. No-one ever thought that 500 kids would turn up in this dumb, shitkicker, remedial backwater corner of Hell, but thirty-odd did and were very well pleased, duly showing their appreciation.
Surprisingly, this venue, which was little more than an old moonshiner’s shack in the ghetto end of town, was actually very good. Apparently, they are moving downtown to a new location and The Skeptix were the last punk band to play there. That of course, does not mean that there will be any more people in the new location, but at least they will not get quite so dirty when they fall on the floor, as a result of their exuberant slam dancing. Of course, they still won't feel any pain, because no sense, no feeling, don't you know.
The gig was very good. The Brats performed to their usual excellent standard and the Skeptix guitar player joined in for his party piece with them . The crowd was small, as we expected for OKC. No-one ever thought that 500 kids would turn up in this dumb, shitkicker, remedial backwater corner of Hell, but thirty-odd did and were very well pleased, duly showing their appreciation.
Surprisingly, this venue, which was little more than an old moonshiner’s shack in the ghetto end of town, was actually very good. Apparently, they are moving downtown to a new location and The Skeptix were the last punk band to play there. That of course, does not mean that there will be any more people in the new location, but at least they will not get quite so dirty when they fall on the floor, as a result of their exuberant slam dancing. Of course, they still won't feel any pain, because no sense, no feeling, don't you know.
...And it's Good-bye From Them
The Skeptix actually played as well as I'd seen them on the tour. For once, they looked as if they were having fun, rather than just doing something that seemed like there should have been more, but they just couldn’t be bothered.
The guitar player’s nightly stroll into the crowd was easier than had been in any of the other gigs and he had some space to wander around. For once, people actually made way for him; or perhaps their brains had turned to mush because of the concept of radio packs hasn’t quite filtered through to this hick part of nowhere.
Ironically, turned out to be the longest and best set they had played all tour, but to the smallest audience of the whole tour.
The Skeptix actually played as well as I'd seen them on the tour. For once, they looked as if they were having fun, rather than just doing something that seemed like there should have been more, but they just couldn’t be bothered.
The guitar player’s nightly stroll into the crowd was easier than had been in any of the other gigs and he had some space to wander around. For once, people actually made way for him; or perhaps their brains had turned to mush because of the concept of radio packs hasn’t quite filtered through to this hick part of nowhere.
Ironically, turned out to be the longest and best set they had played all tour, but to the smallest audience of the whole tour.
One more time
After the standard ending and encore, Brats joined Skeptix for an impromptu song for the last night of the tour: White Man in Hammersmith Palais: Drums -Jordy, Bass-Rick, Vox -Max and Chig, Back Vox - Ugly. It had been common for Brats and Skeps to appear together for odd numbers at the gigs, but this was very special and although a bit scrappy and rough, it was very enjoyable and quite touching.
After the standard ending and encore, Brats joined Skeptix for an impromptu song for the last night of the tour: White Man in Hammersmith Palais: Drums -Jordy, Bass-Rick, Vox -Max and Chig, Back Vox - Ugly. It had been common for Brats and Skeps to appear together for odd numbers at the gigs, but this was very special and although a bit scrappy and rough, it was very enjoyable and quite touching.
After the gig had ended and the punters had gone home to their trailers, the Brats showed the Skeps the present they had made for them - a hand-printed SkepDicks T-shirt.
Fond Farewells
We left for the very last post-gig party aware that we couldn’t stay too long because of having to fly out the following day. With a check-in time at Will Rogers World Airport of Noon, we couldn’t be going to bed at 7AM and sleeping until noon and leaving at 1, 2 or 3PM. So, we went along to this apartment and partied for an hour or so, then returned to our hotel with the Brats who were going to have some beers before retiring to their own room.
Everything was going swimmingly. Beers were drunk, the world was put to rights, sports odds for various team's prospects were chewed over and troubles were shared. Everyone was looking forward to going home to see their loved-ones, but emotions were running high because of new friendships made and soon-to-be-parted.
Also a feud had been running since Phoenix, between Brats manager Melissa and Skeptix hanger-on Natasha. We’re out on the balcony having beers on what is a pleasantly cool night. This is a Travelodge so the balcony runs the length of the building with stairwells every 10 rooms or so. Me, Rick, Chig, Max and Snotty are shooting the shit when we hear a“You little fucking bitch!” from along the way. Seemingly, Melissa has called Tash a cheap slut and was telling her a few home truths when Tash maced her. We considered intervening, but felt things were already in hand. Then, seemingly, Natasha fell over and hurt her face.
After some tense and deep conversations, everyone kissed and made up (except for the maced Melissa and accident-prone Natasha) Brats kissed, made-up and we bid them farewell as they left for their fifteen hour drive home to Chicago. Somewhat saddened, we turned in, to get a few hours sleep before we had to leave.
Click here for the last bit
We left for the very last post-gig party aware that we couldn’t stay too long because of having to fly out the following day. With a check-in time at Will Rogers World Airport of Noon, we couldn’t be going to bed at 7AM and sleeping until noon and leaving at 1, 2 or 3PM. So, we went along to this apartment and partied for an hour or so, then returned to our hotel with the Brats who were going to have some beers before retiring to their own room.
Everything was going swimmingly. Beers were drunk, the world was put to rights, sports odds for various team's prospects were chewed over and troubles were shared. Everyone was looking forward to going home to see their loved-ones, but emotions were running high because of new friendships made and soon-to-be-parted.
Also a feud had been running since Phoenix, between Brats manager Melissa and Skeptix hanger-on Natasha. We’re out on the balcony having beers on what is a pleasantly cool night. This is a Travelodge so the balcony runs the length of the building with stairwells every 10 rooms or so. Me, Rick, Chig, Max and Snotty are shooting the shit when we hear a“You little fucking bitch!” from along the way. Seemingly, Melissa has called Tash a cheap slut and was telling her a few home truths when Tash maced her. We considered intervening, but felt things were already in hand. Then, seemingly, Natasha fell over and hurt her face.
After some tense and deep conversations, everyone kissed and made up (except for the maced Melissa and accident-prone Natasha) Brats kissed, made-up and we bid them farewell as they left for their fifteen hour drive home to Chicago. Somewhat saddened, we turned in, to get a few hours sleep before we had to leave.
Click here for the last bit
