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Worldwide Ace » “Dave Gordon will always be a swinger.”

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“Dave Gordon will always be a swinger.”

28 March, 2004 (18:10) | Random

You may be wonder what the title means and who Dave Gordon is. Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m not sure and apparently he’s a swinger, and will remain so. Today, when I went to Deli Zone, my all time favorite sub shop, I got myself an Nantucket Nectars Half & Half and on that cap was the sentence, “Dave Gordon will always be a swinger.” Now, I don’t know who Dave Gordon is, but thanks to that cap, I do know he is a swinger, and that’s amusing. So Dave Gordon, if you ever read this, know you’ve inspired laughter in at least one person, and for that, you should be proud.

Shows, Snows, and Witticisms: All the news fit to print… or post… or whatever…

Tuesday March 23, 2004: Deep in heart of Denver, on the edge of Broadway in Englewood, sits a small venue (max occupancy 1200) known as the Gothic Theatre. Its mottled edges and twisted aztec veneer glower in the dimly lit venue and the dingy tables glom to your arm with the stickiness of a thousand drinks but only 10 wipe downs. It’s not dark, small, or dirty enough to be a dive, but it’s pretty damn close. Early in the afternoon, I got an email from Libby reminding me that the Death Cab for Cutie show is tonight and that they may need my help starting around 6 pm, they being Music For America. I’m not a big Death Cab fan, but it’s an 1190 show, so at least I’d know people who are there, and it’s something to do in my mindless spring break week.

In the meantime, I head down to the park to play some basketball. When I get home at 5:45, right before the 6 pm deadline, I find a phone message from Libby. She’s frantic because of some stupid shit the organization is pulling. At the last minute, the national volunteer coordinator called Libby and told her Jenny couldn’t make it, so it was her and Dixie. Dixie had complications that prevented her from going (asked her about it, I’m not comfortable explaining things I know naught about), so I’m suppoed to go instead, which I don’t mind.

SIDE NOTE: Music for America is supposed to be a national non-partisan voting organization. If you think about the number of people you need to organize in a national campaign, then it’s pretty obvious that the higher ups can’t be nit-picky about details of every event. We’re supposed to be the Colorado Chapter, but they don’t let us collect email lists, coordinate volunteers, hold meetings, or even schedule events. People have to sign up on the website and, according to them, it’s better to get more people involved by sending untrained volunteers who have never been out and don’t know much about the organization than it is to have them train with someone who knows what’s going on before going out on their own. It’s just common sense. But does MFA do that? No. They wanted to send Jenny (who neither Libby nor I have spoken to) and who hadn’t been out before. I know it’s not a tough thing to go run a table and try and get people to vote, but it’s much nicer when there’s at least one person there who has done it before to learn from. So at the last minute, the national volunteer coordinator called Libby and told her Jenny couldn’t make it, so it was her and Dixie. Dixie had complications that prevented her from going, so I’m suppoed to go instead, which I don’t mind.

So here’s the second part: Music for America is supposed to be a national non-partisan voting organization. Suddeny, I find we’re a leftist voting organization. The mission statement at the webpage has even been changed to:

Music for America is a partisan, political nonprofit getting 1 million new progressive voters to participate in the 2004 elections. The country is headed in the wrong direction; our generation has the most at stake, and as long as we remain spectators, nothing will change. Through live concerts and an interactive web site, we are connecting culture and politics, exposing political hypocrisies, and igniting a grassroots movement.

I’m sorry, but we just gave up on the right? The slogan to Inquiring Minds is It doesn’t matter where you stand, as long as you understand, which clearly states that I think everyone should vote, regardless of party. To reject the Republican and right wing voters as a lost cause not only hurts us as an organization, but it hurts the democratic party. Sure, more lefties are part of MFA, myself included, but ignoring the right is just wrong.

6 O’clock rolls around, and I’m off. We rip down the highway, hit FedEX at 6:59 (it closed at 7, as opposed to 7:30, which is what we thought), grab the goods (buttons, cards, and forms), and head for the Gothic to try and get there a half hour before doors open at 8. We get there and inside and are offered a spot at the merchandise table, but elect to set up some of the sticky tables and stools over in a corner in the music hall. Soon enough, Rock the Vote arrives. I smell rumble!

SIDE NOTE: So you have Rock the Vote and Music for America showing up at the same show. Why? They both do the same thing. Libby and the girl running Rock the Vote at the show even discussed that. I knew about MFA and Rock the Vote as well as the New Voter Project, but apparently there are nine other pro-voting groups in Colorado alone. The girl from Rock the Vote said she was at a show a week before in which 5 different groups all showed up. Quit wasting our time and start talking to each other, dammit!

Libby was starving so she ran next door and bought some Chinese food from the place that charges the gothic for parking and who tows people who park there. Apparently it was good, but she had some left over, so she tossed it on the floor behind us. I’ll explain why this is important later, but just trust me, it is.

The night goes well. We get 30 people registered, though because both we and Rock the Vote report it, that means 60 may get recorded. No good, if you ask me. About two thirds of the way through Plus/Minus’s opening act, this creepy old guy comes over and starts hitting on Libby. She eventually gets wierded out and slinks away. I, seeing him begin to follow her, step up to the plate, cut him off and engage him in witty banter about politics, taking evil extremist views until he gets freaked out and leaves. SUCCESS! HA! I knew that “I’m a Jew against Israel” point of view would come in handy! I thought about trying to mack on him, but I was too afraid he’d actually take me up on it, when all I wanted to do was scare him away.

The show goes on and Death Cab kicks out a rocking set. I swear their guitarist is such a fucking pansy-dancer. Same move over and over. Once you’ve seen them once, it’s not worth going again. I had seen them before at the now defunct Raven with Maraca 5-0, a kick-ass surf band, and John Vanderslice, who’s bassist played a Chapman Stick, one of the slickest instruments known to man. Libby and I decided to split early, so we pack up and head out a couple songs before the first set ends. Here’s where the Chinese food is important.

With everything we have to carry, I grab the Chinese food with my empty hand. We hop in the car and start heading back to Boulder. After about 15 minutes, I feel something on my leg and smack it. It was just a little particle of something, so I think nothing of it. After the third one, I flip the light on above me and spot an ant on me. I mention this to Libby and she pulls over and starts freaking out because she has an ant problem at home and is afraid that those ants had gotten into her car. I open the Chinese food box and it’s swarming with ants. Apparently, they had been slipping out of the box and crawling all over me without me realizing it. We toss the Chinese food and keep going. All evening after I get home, I keep finding ants in… well, odd places. It’s the first time I can actually say I’ve had ants in my pants without being a liar.

Saturday March 27, 2004: Tim calls me up and tells me he just saw the Seldom Scene on Friday at the Boulder Theater and was so impressed by the opening band, that he wanted to go see them tonight at Trilogy. It’s bluegrass, something I thoroughly enjoy, but don’t know enough of or about, so, of course, I’m in. The band is Mary & Mars, which I’ve never heard of, but the cover’s only $5 and Tim says the singer is way hot. I hate to think I’m shallow when I’m expanding my horizons, but I must admit that fine ass does not deter me from enjoying a show. Au contrair, mon ami. Fine ass is an enhancer to all get-togethers, parties, and shows. And my was there a bunch of fine ass at this show… not that I had any chance, but it’s a nice aesthetic to the venue.

Now, Saturday was the last day of spring break, in my mind. My plan for the day: play video games, kick back, and smoke the rest of the pot cause I don’t want it around during school. Let me say that I was unsuccessful on all counts. Regardless, when I head out with Tim, I’m pretty damn stoned. We hit Old Chicago’s where I eat too much, even though I didn’t eat any of my fries, and then head to the bar around 8:05. When we went to John Butler Trio the previous week, we got there early, but still late enough to no be able to find one of the few seats that skirt the edges of the performance room. Tim claims, if we get there between 8 and 8:15, we can find a seat in time for the 9:00 PM show.

There are two problems with this theory.

  1. It assumes the show is at 9:00.
  2. It assumes the doors will be open by 8:00.

Both of these assumptions were wrong. The show is at 10 and the doors don’t open until 9:30, but do we find this out by asking? No. We wait. Admittedly, it’s a good wait. Trilogy has these HUGE comfy chairs (if they had been 1 foot higher, I would’ve looked like a fat, bearded, school kid) and I snag the only open one in the restaurant/lounge while we wait. It’s doubly cool because I’m stoned and in a huge chair.

Now, I remember most things when I’m stoned, but I’m often afraid I’ll forget. I eventually make a stupid comment and Tim says something like, “I knew I should’ve invited one of my non-Jewish friends.” I pause for a moment, look at him, and say, “What? Are you afraid I’m going to tax you to death?” and he breaks out laughing. +1 for me, apparently. Josh, back me up here, that’s +1 right? Eventually the conversation turns to women and my lack of success and Tim’s lack of guts (he’s spineless, but good-looking, trust me… or don’t… there might be a picture on my not-recently-updated college page).

Tim: ” There’s an inherent difference between you and women. You know what that is?”
Me: “Yeah, about ten feet at all times.”
Tim: “I was going to go with facial hair, but that’s a good one.”

9:30 rolls around and we head inside. I snag the only super huge comfy chair in the performance room, and then I realize I’ve had two good lines which I can still, at the moment, remember. I rush to the bar, borrow a pen and jot them down while Tim laughs at my stoned ass. He seems to do that a lot.

The place is almost empty when the show finally starts. There are maybe 7 not-staff members, including a very drunk man who continuously pesters the band. It’s almost as if he’s asking them to play Freebird. How fucking trite. Regardless, Mary & Mars is absolutely fantastic. I left a little while after Jesse (“He’s the pussy-vaccuum, right?”) showed up around midnight and walked home. It was a good night.

On top of that, some random guy gave me a ticket to Jerry Douglas and the Coal Creek Bluegrass Band at the Fox Theatre for tonight. So that’s the plan for today: More bluegrass goodness and an early class tomorrow.

It may have snowed outside, but I have sunshine in my heart.