As soon as Al Davis dies, we'll win the Superbowl.
-Scuba Steve's friend
So I keep trying to get down to business and write this entry, but I'm continually being distraced by Blaise K's photostream on Flickr. I can just look at the photo of the dude wearing a "Enjoy Vagina" t-shirt and laugh and laugh.
Must focus, grasshopper.
M'kay...the first thing I learned out on the back patio of Jack's Bar & Lounge on Super Bowl Sunday is that the three brightly colored drinks that Rina served to a customer on Day 34 were called a Stop Light, i.e., red, yellow and green.
I thought they were an on the spot reggae theme, but I was sorta wrong there. Thank you Ras Dank for clearing that up.
I enjoyed sitting with two very lovely laides (Drew Barrymore and Marilyn Monroe) underneath the new awning to watch the first half of the game on a flat screen. It brought back memories of my first super bowl at Jack's one (two?) years ago. First time I saw Jeff, then.
The hot dogs were the first off the grill and tasted awesome. Marilyn's lab Holly was a blast too. That dog had an endless amount of energy and would make a great soccer goalie, in my opinion.
At halftime I was selected to be a coach for the relay race, but it never happened despite Rina's concerted efforts to single handedly build the race course, find participants and coaches and walk us through the obstacles.
My team would have been called Team Awesome. And we would have won, just because of our team name. Oh well, maybe next year.
I met several new people today, including:
- Dean's brother who was wearing a sling --wouldn've made a fine coach for the relay too, since you only need like one arm to crack the whip-- but who didn't appear to appreciate it when I pointed this fact out to him
- Wes from Texas --Wes was cooking up a storm at Jack's, along with Grant and Dean. Thank you Wes for sharing the free food and for reminding me what it's like to eat spicey Texas style corn on the cob, shrimp and polish sausage. If you need a ride to or from home again just let me know.
- Scuba Steve; a tall, big man with a very nice Cowboys hat
- Keith, who says him and his boys roll in to Jack's because this is the first bar in his life that feels like home and people aren't fronting; there's a good mix of races and cultures at Jack's and he likes it here (so do I). I thought Keith was Philipino but he's of Thai origin. My bad.
- Nino and Lisa; friends of Chriss Burkhardt and Deborah --it was a pleasure to sit with you for a few songs and watch Chris play, Deborah, thanks for introducing me to your friends.
- Al, who wore a big 49ers sweater and was put on a water diet real quick when he came in to Jack's. I liked talking with Al about old school hip hop, Snoop Dog, Dr. Dre and what it was like to roll around in Impalas that were as wide as boats. Yes, this author has done that, and in style too.
- Moses, who's convinced the game of football is rigged. He lost $500 a piece to two of his friends on the Super Bowl. But he still gives it up to the Saints.
- One-Two (Ed aka God told me his name was Pablo, but it wasn't), who's a member of the Soul Brothers motorcycle club and who taught me about his club's coat of arms (my words, not sure what he called it): the orange means international, the two crossed fists (one white with black lines, the other black with white lines) show that there's no racial exclusion, the green U over the fists means both growth and universal unity and the "MC" means both motorcycle club and man's club. I remember him saying, "You can't go wrong with black and chrome on a Harley."
OK back for more.
Hrm...I remember the three lovely bartenders were wearing referee style outfits. Two in striped black and white skirts and one in shorts. I also remember wondering whose idea it was to give the outright loudest person in the bar a whistle? ;)
I can't remember who else besides me wanted the Saints to win. I recall Tanisha did, but anyone else....?
So after giving Wes a ride home I came back to Jack's figuring I'd stay to talk with Eric aka ACME and James aka Kla-Klow Bang-Bang! for a little while, then go home.
As it turns out, I stayed until about 1:30 a.m.
Chris Burkhardt came in with Deborah and looked quite pleased that the Saints won. He had celebratory beads on and said he didn't have an actual Peyton Manning voodoo doll but he used an imaginary one during the game.
I chatted with Deborah a bit and really liked watching Chris play from the table closest to the ATM machine and Jukebox. From that angle you can see all of Chris, watch his hands move back and forth on his steel guitar and see the small yellow and red LED readouts on his gear move up and down as he plays. He sounds better too.
I saw an older man who wore a wide brimmed hat and leather jacket and I think he looks like a barber named Carlos from Morgan Hill that I used to visit but I never found the time to introduce myself to him. He sure looked cool though.
When Chris played Big Boss Man and was getting all greasy on the harmonicaI remember two people walking outside to call friends and tell them they were at Jacks and they should come down.
After that song was over I stepped outside to see stars poking out from behind the clouds and the sky was a dirty dark blue but not yet black. I watched a Jersey Shore wannabee walk out of Jack's with his friend, bar glass in hand, to a Hummer parked accross the street. Douchebag.
Inside Chris was explaining that the Faydedo (spelling it like it sounds here) means God's Day but in cajun terms it means having a party.
....lolz, OK time to pause yet again. I'll wrap this up tomorrow (I hope). I still haven't gotten to the thank yous (to Chris for the Makter's Mark shots and especially Bang-Bang! for the endless beers and all the damn fun we had) and the story of how one bartender can defuse an argument between like eight rowdy females without breaking a sweat.
Heh...too much to write. Let's just end it with a special thank you to Katie for reading the blog and for your kind words, your encouragment and praise.