Warm Up

  

XBrainiaX

Order 66, not this band, this one

 

Endless Blockade (Canadians come up with some weird names)

I’ve never been in a band, but if I was and went on tour, I might take off Wednesdays. Mid week in Columbus is seldom kind to hardcore bands, I guess some punks do have jobs.

It’s really too bad, each band played decent last night. The only positive spin I can give the night was that mabye it was meant to serve as a warm up for our next show:

June 1 / 8 pm
all ages @ The 15th house
369 E. 15th Ave.
Columbus, OH 43201

GASMASK TERRÖR Discharge fanatics from France
VILE GASH local noise merchants/smut peddlers
NUKKEHAMMER cops don’t like them
BLACK DOVE OTR hardpunk

Coinciding with our show last night was a jam band set from our next-door neighbors. No one showed up at their house either, well, until the punks hopped the fence. I’ll let the party crashing photos speak for themselves sometime this weekend.

Lastly, I meant to post this the other day, but the site has over 1000 views in just over a month’s span. I don’t have a great understanding of scale when it comes to these type of stats, but when you compare it to printing 250 zines, it seems like some sort of accomplishment. Stay tuned …

The World’s Fastest Lawnmower

(New Springfield, Ohio 5.25.2008)

This is Mike and his Dixie Chopper, the self-claimed world’s fastest lawnmower. I met him in New Springfield, Ohio which is about 8 miles from where my parents live, and just down the road from North Lima where I took the picture of Purple Phrogg Records later in the day (posed on 5.26).

I asked Mike if he raced his lawnmower, and he said proudly it was only for cutting grass which could be done at speeds up to 15 m.p.h. He was not stoked on gas being $4 per gallon.

Whenever I go back home and meet people like MIke it makes me want to move back to small-town Ohio. I could pick a hobby or two and worry about hardly anything at all.

Where nerds go to get laid.

     

 

(Jeff, at least I think that’s his name, the kid who got the Gumby tattoo)

 

(White Rob lives)

 

(Shane MacGowan and an English Bobby)

 

(He was so proud of his getup that when I photographed him he was beaming)

 

Few of my friends were adventurous enough to crash parties at the Hyatt which was hosting Marcon, the giant, annual sci-fi convention.

 

I have always disliked fiction, just about any type. Give me a good documentary and I’m happy. I know, I know … I’m the weird one.

 

Regardless, there’s no way I’m missing Revenge of the Nerds XXVIII. This was based entirely on Friday night, the much calmer, party warm-up night.

 

Wander around any floor and you’ll see Klingons mingling with Willy Wonka. Random parties that are lenient on who they let in. One piece of advice we learned for Saturday night is to score some official Marcon badges – they pay for themselves in nerd’s gold because the parties get more selective.

 

At one party we found tables full of Sour Patch Kids and rum as well as a karaoke session. Another party served us shots called Pan-galactic something or another that consisted of Everclear mixed in test tubes. You don’t even have to be drunk for the stars to slowly circle the room.

 

The whole night we didn’t see a single staff members, the three-member Klingon Army we bumped into at 4 a.m. on our way home must have taken care of these lesser foes for the night.

 

“These cons are just an excuse to dress up in costumes,” said Jeff, a buff, long-haired, middle-aged Klingon. “It’s really very therapeutic.”

 

After an hour hanging out with the group in the lobby, Lt. Gen. K’nocrod Zantai Tumid gave us his “business” card that featured him in full costume. On the back it read: Klingon by Birth, Marine by Choice.

 

There is, however, an underbelly to the event. Accustomed to punk party ethics, I expected our new hosts to be friendlier and parties crazier. If only I was female. Michelle said she has never been offered more free drinks or suspect baked goods in her entire life.

 

I don’t blame the nerds for trying considering their female counterparts are about as attractive as the males.

 

If anything was learned it’s that Marcon is a place where nerds can be a nerd or at least try to get laid.

Post Marcon

     

(Monster House, 5.24.2008)

God damn do I love green grass hit with a direct flash in total darkness. This group of photos show what happens when you crash a rival punk house after they had a show and you just came from Marcon. Check back tomorrow for photos from the actual ‘Con.

Besides Marcon I’m sitting on tons of great material which will make up for that recent three day postless streak.

More boring.

(Purple Phrogg Records, North Lima, Ohio 5.25.2008)

As a young punk I used to drive by this place everyday on the way home from work at Cycle Sales. There wasn’t much of a punk collection, and I remember a ton of guitars for sale. The rumor was that the storefront was used to launder money from weed sales. 

Whether that’s true or not, it was by far the only interesting business in the area. The owner, a stereotypical middle-aged, small town hippie, was always friendly. I’m surprised his business lasted as long as it did.

Nowadays, North Lima, located south of Youngstown and near the Rt. 76 exit closest to Pennsylvania, has an abandoned grocery store, a strip club, and a brand new Arby’s. I asked some kid at Arby’s what happened to the Purple Phrogg.

“I dunno, they smoked too much weed, I guess,” he said.

Like all towns in this area, things are slowly getting worse, or at least more boring. These are bleak times in deed, you know that’s true whenever the phroggs die.

Disappearing act

(Unknown band @ the Monste House, 5.21.2008)

No clue who this band is (if you do, leave a comment and I’ll update), but during their set I saw the fastest disappearing case of beer in Monster House history.

*sniff, sniff* I miss that house.

 

(Delay @ the Nude Ranch, 5.17.2008)

First one to get me a shirt like that of the 15th House wins an autograph.

Stray

(Stray cat in the Ohio State Fairgrounds, 5.17.2008)

Another quick and easy post because I’ll be busy as hell at work today writing the police beat, about the opening of the public pool, and a feature on a 91-year-old WWII POW.

Roads to nowhere.

 

(The Ohio State Fairgrounds, 5.17.2008)

Going to make this short, because I can’t stand being on a computer right now due to work. It’s not that I hate what I do, it’s just 40 hours is way too much time per week. It’s absurd that’s the standard everyone is content working.  I, for one, would have no trouble finding interesting things to do all day if I didn’t have to work. 

Anyways, two photos from an afternoon at the Ohio State Fairgrounds. For how close I live, I don’t go here nearly enough. There’s almost always something strange going on. Later this week I’ll post pictures from the real reason I went: some time of horse riding school.

Books for crooks, jokes for punks.

   

(Welcome to Concrete @ the Nude Ranch, 5.17.2008)

I was burned out on music photography, taking a break for a week or two, but had to dust off the camera for Saturday’s “books for crooks, jokes for punks” event.

 

The night featured some of Columbus’ best stand-up comedians alternating between punk bands. It was a fundraiser for the Red Bird Books for Prisoners project, and the third successful event Jim has pulled off in recent memory. All this is incredible, not because Jim isn’t capable, but because he just got GTA 4.

 

Holding the show in the Nude Ranch’s garage was not out of the ordinary for us, but it was for the comedians. I guess I take DIY events for granted, but it would be pretty strange to walk into a garage filled with people like us if you weren’t expecting it.

 

The comedians also loved the fact that people were actually paying attention to them (which I guess is rare in a bar).

 

Bands, comedians, punk – everyone seemed to have a good time. As for the photos, I’ve shot better. I’m going to blame it on getting bonked in the face with my camera about three photos in (and not on the two Wild Cats, I am a trained professional, after all). I was kneeling down with my eye to the viewfinder when a stray dancer fell into me. I saw stars and pretended to be alright. 

 

Most photos had a gnarly red haze to them, that’s why two are in black and white. Not my ideal choice, but at least they were salvageable.

 

The night was also noteworthy for Delay’s rowdy set. I guess that’s what happens when you provide a cheap bar at a punk show. I was on the ground more last night then in any other show in my life, but came away unscathed despite multiple head-over-heals-type falls (that I do blame on the two Wild Cats).