I'm breaking in a new editor for this column this week, so rather than make a standard article with things like structure and complete sentences, I figured I'd give him, and perhaps you, a challenge. So here's a stream-of-consciousness review of my weekend at the Drive Invasion at the Starlight Drive-In, moment by moment:
Pulled into the driveway at 8:30 a.m. Saturday; fifth car in line; handed out Krispy Kreme donuts to fellow early birds; gates opened a little after 9 to a line of cars out to Moreland; set up camp and started things off with bourbon and lemonade; played cards with friends during the calm before the storm; Stovall kicked off the live music at noon with vaguely country stuff to a handful of people; an inflatable Godzilla-esque T-Rex stood atop the snack bar; "So how many acres of tattoos you think there are here?"
I was buzzed already by the time the Cogburns did their usual garage rock; grills going, cooking everything from tofu to beef brisket; elaborate bar setups; Cletus and his City Cousins did classic country sounds and a few fun covers.
Wow, look at that girl!; cute vintage Airstream trailers; Johnny Legend onstage belting out the theme from 2000 Maniacs; aging hipsters; cool motorcycles; another random rockabilly band; a tent village sprang up like mushrooms in the small patch of lawn in front of the screen.
The Ghastly Ones did songs that all sounded like "The Munsters" theme; look at that pretty sunset; some marvelous barbecue; one of the vendors had a table labeled "robots & westerns;" the world's best jalapeño corndog; Rocket From the Tombs spawned Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys but now they're just old, hot, tired and cranky, or at least they seemed on Saturday as they cranked through some basic rock with a few energizing moments; kids on skateboards.
"How much booze can we possibly need?!?"; a corral full of hotrods; Shane Morton's half-finished mural featuring classic movie monsters and blaxploitation stars adorns the snack bar, inside and out; shit, is that rain?; mopeds and mini-bikes; sewage leak; Johnny Knox blending up tiki drinks in his temporary bar called "Trailer Vics;" a guy was already passed out by 3 p.m. -- some folks haven't mastered the fine art of maintaining a good buzz.
The smoke from the grills of Aces Bar mingled with the smoke from burning tires as the hotrods lay rubber up the hill; the misting tent was a delight for hot kids and adults; Big City Burlesque; a rockabilly greaser played bagpipes; a low-rider, tricked-out, pinstriped bicycle; a guy on a motorcycle put his front tire to the wall and burned rubber until he blew the tire.
Southern Culture on the Skids did a song about white trash right as I noticed the tattoo in front of me of the fallen lion from the Confederate memorial -- or is it Aslan?
2001 Maniacs not much better than 2000 Maniacs, and that's saying something; impressive fireworks, sometimes timed to the action onscreen; Galaxy of Terror finally put me to sleep some 16 hours after I started the day.
GOT UP AROUND 8 A.M. to find many people hadn't bothered going to sleep and were still chugging PBR; bourbon and lemonade for breakfast again while others mixed up elaborate and complicated Bloody Marys; a freshly cleaned Port-o-Let can be a godsend; a lukewarm shower is better than no shower; Cadillac Jones laid down a funky groove to start off Sunday's live-music lineup; rain again?; Atlanta Rollergirls dunk tank; a guy known as "Top Hat" pin-striping hotrods, old motorcycles, and even minivans.
Too hot to take a nap, despite the rain; the Sweetloves brought their Faces-influenced rock, getting the crowd going despite "working on fumes" due to hangovers from the night before; pickled hot sausage is disgusting, and delicious, though I'm not sure I want to know what one of its ingredients -- "mechanically separated chicken" -- actually is.
Gonzalez played heavy/hard/metallic ass-kicking rock, including a blistering version of Blondie's "Call Me;" we spotted a 10-year-old kid dressed in all black with jet-black hair and nicknamed him "Gothling;" more jalapeño corndogs; rain again?!? Damn weathermen!; "What is the difference between coconut milk and coconut water?"
The Gore Gore Girls from Detroit did energetic '60s garage-inspired rock and weren't bad-looking, either; kids on the rock-climbing wall; I don't believe there is such a thing as "sweat-proof sunscreen," and I have the farmer's tan to prove it.
Supersuckers performed some bar-band rock, basic rockabilly-influenced stuff, but then cranked out a few lines of "Godzilla" before Blue Oyster Cult's roadie rushed to the stage and put an end to it; "It's 7 o'clock and I have finally achieved the perfect buzz"; a rainbow arcing over the city dump behind the drive in.
Blue Oyster Cult doing plodding dinosaur rock about plodding dinosaurs; Jim Stacy poured out a massive pot of low-country boil -- all you could eat for $10 and worth every penny; my God, where did they find these trailers?
Godzilla 2000 is, thankfully, not the American version with Ferris Bueller; Vanishing Point may have the best plot setup of any car-chase movie -- basically, "I bet you the money I owe you for these bennies I can get to San Fran by tomorrow at 3:00," as well as the best ending of any car-chase movie (I won't spoil it); 1974's Gone in 60 Seconds didn't get going fast enough to keep me out of bed after another 16-hour day of hard partying; the sun rose over the wreckage as the street-sweeping trucks began circling the lot.
"Wow, I can't believe we drank all that booze!; by the time I packed up camp and cruised out the gates, I had been there exactly 48 hours, and it may take that long to recover.
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