So last weekend I went out to San Diego for a tattoo/hot rod convention. The first song I heard on the radio once I hopped in my rental vehicle (NOT a hot rod) was Let's Go by The Cars...not a bad omen; hell, at least the weather was decent. Featured at the show was Barris Custom - they had their Munster Koach there & were selling some great swag (I felt compelled to buy every mini tiki patch they had). There were plenty of other car customizers there, and a ton of really great tattooers as well. On Friday night I headed up to northern San Diego to catch The Weirdos and Duane Peters' Gunfight play in a pool hall. Does punk exist in San Diego anymore? I'm not sure... I had a great time & both bands were smokin', but the turnout was really frikkin crappy. In attendance: Mike Palm of Agent Orange, so I was in good company, but still felt bad for the bands. This kind of thing drives me nuts... a band I adore is playing, the show is underattended, so I get a great place near the stage that I don't have to get bloody for & get to talk to the band longer than I would because NO ONE ELSE IS THERE. It's the "My Band" or "everybody's band, including mine and I stand in
the very back so my nose doesn't get broken.. again" syndrome, and I've
suffered from it often. I get great stories to take home, but the band probably lost their shirt(s), and that sucks. I did get to have a conversation with John Denney, vocalist for the Weirdos about crop circles; that'll stand out in my mind for awhile - so I guess I will just deal with the ordeal of being torn on this front. This was a "My Band" night & I won't apologize for it, I mean, really, I flew across the country and then drove almost an hour; by the time the Weirdos went on I think it was 4am NY time, so yes, I earned that, even though I wish they could have sold more merch and didn't get tossed out of the club as soon as they were done playing! So much for respect & the San Diego scene.
Back at the convention on Saturday, sets by Go Fast, The Saddle Tramps & Honky all kept the crowd happy, but there wasn't a local band in sight. Now I know that San Diego is home to Cattle Decapitation and the Locust, but is that it? I'm not going to blubber about what I didn't see, and I was only there for a weekend, but when the east coast show queen comes to town, well, you'd better deliver! Sheesh. Basically, the convention was a success, the weather cooperated; people had a howling good time (sometimes too good), and that's all she wrote. For now.