Monthly Archives: April 2013

H is for Hot Tubs

Every day in April I will be participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge. Each day I will write a post dealing with an issue that is near and dear to me that starts with the letter of the Alphabet the corresponds with the day of the month. Neat right? Today is April 8th so the letter of the day is H.

H is for Hot Tubs.

And 3 is the magic number – so here are my 3 favorite hot tub stories. The full stories of the adventures that birthed these stores will be coming in future instalments.

A few years back me and my buddy Ginger and some other friends were at the Rodeo Bar in NYC at 2am on a Sunday night, eating nachos, and drinking beer, as you do at the Rodeo Bar. When Dolly Parton came on the conversation quickly turned to how much we all loved her and then on to her theme park Dollywood. So of course that Thursday 6 of us were on a plane to Nashville for our pilgrimage to our theme park and music mecca. We hopped into a rented minivan and made our way to a house in the smoky mountains, one we picked solely based on it having a hot tub. Of course we all packed bathing suits. After a few dozen drinks we all hopped into the hot tub. Rockin Rodney Speed, who for this trip had boarded his first plane in over 40 years, was the last one out. He strolled out onto the patio in a white Terrycloth robe that had him looking a little bit like Hugh Hefner. When he took it off, he revelaed a rainbow striped speedo. It was the most magnificent thing we had ever seen. I complemented him on it and asked “Where on earth did you get that Rodney.” And if you know Rodney, you’ll know just how amazing it was when he said “The Village!! Where else?!?!”

Oh, did I forget to mention that we stopped at a store called Rebel Corner in Pigeon Forge, TN where She Who Will Not Be Named picked up this amazing Bikini?

Photo by the Author

Photo by the Author

* * * * * * * * *

The night Michael Jackson died, I had a revelation. My band TRAGEDY: The All Metal Tribute to the Bee Gees needed to become DANGEROUS: The All Metal Tribute to Michael Jackson. I was on the phone with Eddie Eyball a few minutes later and he said he and Andy Action would love to be the rhythm section. So we made up the band right then and there and the next day I was booking us gigs. We booked a show to Headline the Norva in Norfolk, Virginia, the night before my birthday, so of course I was ecstatic. The Norva is known in the concert biz as having the absolute best backstage area in the whole US of A. It has a game room with video games, billiards and fooseball. It has a TV room with a giant flatscreen with cable. It has a basketball court. A dining room / kitchen where they cook for the bands. And best of all it has a fucking hot tub and sauna and several showers. Tragedy had opened for bands at the Norva but this time my band was headlining and I decided I was gonna let this night go to waste. Before we booked flights, or figured out what we were going to use for backline, I was on the phone with my friend Sebastian who I had met when we played the Norva with 2 Skinnee Js. I told him my plan. I said “Sebastian, for this show Im going to get 50 backstage passes, and I want you and your beautiful girlfriend to spend the night giving these passes out to the hottest girls at the show and explain to them that we will be having a hot tub party. And you need to be VERY adamant to them that NO DUDES ARE ALLOWED.” We even amended the words to our cover of Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff tat night to “Hot Tub” and Phil gave a little monologue about the party that would be happening.

The plan worked like a charm and not long after we got off the stage the backstage area was full of good looking girls. But there wasn’t a party atmosphere. It was weird. Something was missing. MUSIC! As soon as I realized there was no music playing I grabbed my iPod and fired up my “Little Nicky’s Durrrty South Hip Hop Mix” and got started with TI’s “Big Things Poppin” Before the first song was over several girls were naked in the hot tub. Did I mention earlier that I was the only single guy in the band and that none of my bandmates were scoundrels. I sure as shit made the most of that opportunity. Oh. What. A. Night.

* * * * * * * * * *

The third hot tub story is actually part of a much longer story that will be coming in a few days. K is for Kid Rock. It involved flying to Milan, renting a BMW R1200 GS. Riding that to Cannes. Getting in my first motorcycle crash in Cannes an hour before I needed to be at the red carpet premiere for the U2 3D movie, and ending up seeing the sun rise from the hot tub on on Kid Rock’s yacht. Below is a pic of me at Peter Shapiro in said hot tub.

Photo by Kid Rock - at 9AM

Photo by Kid Rock – at 9AM

G is for Gathering of the Juggalos

Every day in April I will be participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge. Each day I will write a post dealing with an issue that is near and dear to me that starts with the letter of the Alphabet the corresponds with the day of the month. Neat right? Today is April 7th so the letter of the day is G.

G is for Gathering of the Juggalos. Whoop Whoop!!!

After a 10 year absence from New York City things sure have been coming up Juggalo over the last 6 months. In April those Clown You Love to Hate aka the Insane Clown Posse made their first appearance in NYC since 2001 when they headlined the Hammerstein Ballroom. They were booked for the Bamboozle fest in Jersey and decided to add a headline show at the Gramercy Theater the night before. A week before that show we got a call from someone at Live Nation saying that the band wanted to have an after-party with their fans and were asking for ideas. Against my better judgement I offered to rent them one of our boats – the Jewel. On two conditions – that they overnight us a cashiers check for the rental fee and a sizeable security deposit. And that there be No Faygo. The next day we had the check, they announced the afterparty with one tweet and it sold out instantly. At that point I didn’t know much about ICP – I had bought the Great Milenko back in 1997 because it had an Alice Cooper cameo never gave it much play.

As that week went on I was filled with a mixture of excitement and fear. ”What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I thought. I had visions of Tila Tequila styled riots on our boat. My fears were raised after seeing the show at the Gramercy that night. I LOVED the show – the Faygo was flying everywhere along with the Juggalos freak flags. But on the walk to the boat after the show, among the packs of Juggalos stampeding down 23rd Street I was feeling like having my head examined for letting this vertiable army of Clowns onto the boat.

Funny then that this turned into one of the most well behaved crowds we’d ever hosted. We had set up a private area on the bow of the Jewel for ICP and their crew to use. But they didn’t spend more than 10 minutes up there and spent the rest of the cruise just mingling with their fans. And for a fan base so rabid, the Juggalos were giving Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope their space. Barely any of them asked for a photo or an autograph. They were just happy to be around and talk to their superhero idols. I was wearing a Rocks Off shirt and all night I got a steady stream of Juggalos coming up to me and thanking me for letting them come on the boat. Almost every one of them had the same thing to say. Basically: “Thank you SO MUCH for doing this. So many people don’t want Juggalos in their establishments. They think we are a bunch of troublemakers, but the truth is we’re a FAMILY. And we are starved for events like this where we can all gather and show people that we really aren’t trouble.” And they were right. The vibe on the boat was overwhelmingly positive. These people really do consider themselves FAMILY.

My friend Sean Dunne, a documentary filmmaker (who you might know form his Johnny Corndawg Film “Stray Dawg” , was thinking of making a doc about juggalos and he came on the boat. He was converted as quickly as I was and just knew he had to go to the Gathering. I connect him with the ICP management and before you could say Ninja he was told he’s be hooked up press passes. His work resulted in American Juggalo – a film the band has yet to publicly acknowlege, yet within a week of it’s release, without any promo campaign, took off like wildfire and is closing in on one million views. Pretty spectacular consider the low % of Juggalos who fuck with the internet.

I woke up the next morning and said “If that’s what 300 of these people are like – I gotta get to the gathering of the Juggalos and see what 15,000 of them are like. So I did. But not before I went and got myself a Hatchetman Tattoo. Not only did we go – but team Rocks Off chartered a bus and christened it the Juggalo Express. That decision ranks up there as one of the best things I ever did. The Gathering is a completely surreal and lawless place; there couldn’t be, and probably shouldn’t be any other place like it on earth. I came home and described it to somebody as “Burning Man for people with no ambition.” It was Shangri La for people who just don’t give a FUCK. And it was so refreshing. There’s no social structure or heirarchy with Juggalos. Nobody gives a shit if you’re skinny for fat or rich or poor or smart or dumb. All that matters is that you’re “down with the clown. Then you’re family.

I still smell like root beer. And I couldn’t be happier. Im a juggalo. And I don’t give a fuck who knows it.

F is for Forgive and Remember

Who ever came up with the term forgive and forget was a fuckin pussy. And someone who enjoyed getting fucked. I totally get the forgive part. Who needs to carry a grudge and all the negative energy that goes with it? That’s how people get migraines. And cancer. That shit will eat you from the inside. But forget??? Forget so you can make the same mistakes twice? Forget so that you can let that person Fuck you again? No way Jose. That shit is for the birds. And Oprah.

I say forgive and remember. Next time you get the feeling that you’re about to be fucked, remember. And fuck em back first. And harder. Forgive. And Remember.

E is for Eagle

The Death of the American Dream Eagle

The Death of the American Dream Eagle

Every day in April I will be participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge. Each day I will write a post dealing with an issue that is near and dear to me that starts with the letter of the Alphabet the corresponds with the day of the month. Neat right? Today is April 5th so the letter of the day is E.

E is for Eagle.

More specifically Crackie – the Death of the American Dream Eagle. Crackie put in his time and went to war for the once-great country that he loves. He came back and found that he was unwanted in a land that had been taken over by corrupt politicians and crooked bankers. He’s wounded and not able to get fixed up because the VA hospital is losing it’s funding. He’s trying to hold on to the tattered shreds of ideals of the country he went off to fight for, but the only thing that’s the same as when he left is the persistence of God in his culture and his ability to bear arms. He hasn’t even been rewarded financially for his sacrifices so he had to pawn his medals, but all that bought him was a bottle of booze. He sat and thought about what to do with the booze and figured rather use it to numb his pain, he turned it into a molotov cocktail and is about to throw it through the window of a local bank as a way to protest the special interest groups and lobbies who have skull-fucked him, leaving him to wear an eye-patch.

Crackie might be down, but he’s not out. Much like the American Dream. Time to take back what’s ours.

Tattoo by Tasha Rubinow at Inborn NYC

D is for David Allan Coe

Every day in April I will be participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge.  Each day I will write a post dealing with an issue that is near and dear to me that starts with the letter of the Alphabet the corresponds with the day of the month.  Neat right?  Today is April 4th so the letter of the day is D.

D is for David Allan Coe

The Longhaired Red Neck Rock N Roll Son Of The South.  Ever since I started booking the Wetlands – my dream booking was the outlaw country artist David Allan Coe.  Year in and year out I would call his crazy booking agent who would tell me over and over again that David would NOT come to New York City.  Said he had a semi truck for his gear and a huge tour bus and just was flat out not interested in bringing those vehicle to New York City cuz traffic and parking were just such a nightmare.

When I started booking shows at BB King’s in Time Square I called his agent and said “Hey what if I put David up at a hotel in Jersey and send a car service for him and his band – he won’t need to take the tour bus into the city but the equipment truck will need to drive in…”  His agent was like “No way.  David ain’t coming into the city.”  Then I got an idea to do try to have DAC play on a boat.  I did a little research about this crazy idea of mine and then called the agent and said “Hey man – I have an idea.  We do shows on this boat that holds 500 people – it’s called the Temptress.  The boat is docked at 41st street and the west side highway.  About 1,000 yards West of that – just across the Hudson River is New Jersey.  There is a dock there and plenty of parking.  Im thinking we can pul the boat across to New Jersey and you guys can park your bus and truck there, we can load you on the boat, take it back across to Manhattan, load the customers, do the cruise, let everyone off in Manhattan and then take the boat back to Jersey to unloadDavid and the band and all his gear.  What do you think?”

He said “So lemme get this straight – David will never actually have to set foot in New York City…?” and I said “YUP!”  He called David and called me back and said “You got yourself a deal, buddy”  I was SO excited!!!  We made up posters that said “1st NYC show for David Allan Coe in 32 years!” and started hanging them everywhere.  The show sold out pretty quickly and I was pretty proud of myself for making this happen.  A few weeks later I ran into Stef Scamardo who is married to and manages Warren Haynes.  Warren used to play guitar in David’s band.  I told her the whole story, and how excited I was.  She said “You know why David hasn’t played in NYC in all this time, right??  I said “Yeah, he just has this weird thing about not wanting to bring his vehicles into NYC!”  She just laughed and said “Hahaha, no you silly goose – it’s because David used to be the President of the Outlaws Motorcycle Gang in Nashville and they had some major beef with the Hells Angels 30 years ago and they made a pact – as long as the Outlaws never came to NYC then the Angels would stay out of Nashville and they would agree not to kill each other!!!”

Well I almost shit my pants.  For weeks I was having nightmares about the show.  Thinking that the Hell’s Angels were gonna come tearing down the pier on their motorcycles and get all “rape and pillage” style on us.  The night of the show everything went mad smooth and David played a great show without incident.  I breathed a huge sigh of relief and counted my blessings… and my money.  A few weeks later I saw Steve Bonge who is the president of the Hell’s Angels NYC Chapter.  on the street in the East Village, not far from the Hell’s Angels NYC HQ. Most sane people cross the street to AVOID a Hells Angel.  I crossed the street to CONFRONT him.  I had met him a buncha times when I used to work at a club called Coney Island High that he frequented on St Marks Place.  I approached him and introduced myself and told him the whole story and apologized and told him I meant no disrespect to the Hell’s Angels and all that.  He just laughed and said “Man that was like thirty years ago – whatever that was about is long forgotten.  It’s all good!”  Then I bought a motorcycle.

Letting You Know How They Really Feel

Letting You Know How They Really Feel

C is for Cancer

Every day in April I will be participating in the A to Z Blog Challenge.  Each day I will write a post dealing with an issue that is near and dear to me that starts with the letter of the Alphabet the corresponds with the day of the month.  Neat right?  Today is April 3rd so the letter of the day is C.

C is for Cancer.  And the fact that there’s no Cure.  Maybe it’s Cuz those Cunts in Congress keep Churning out Changes to the Charters that let the Chemical Companies poison your Crops and Challenge the well being of your Children.  Or Contaminate you with Cigarettes.  There’s no CASH in a CURE.  Question Everything those Cocksuckers do, Compadres.