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Lock up the women and children 

Bikers, fluffers and a new clay bong

Wayne and I both ordered the Big Mac, a double-decker cheeseburger that includes pickles and onions, served on a sesame seed bun. I found its rich taste delightful, but Wayne found fault with the sandwich's special sauce. "It doesn't taste that special to me," he whined. "I think it's just Thousand Island dressing." He's right. Wrong column, sorry.

Oh, my love, my darling: Area stoners looking for beautiful places to stash their weed should have visited the Callanwolde Fine Arts Center Friday night for its pottery show. Actually, though, I'm glad they didn't show up because the place was packed. Besides, the show already had Chardonnay-sipping tailgaters in the parking lot. Seriously. Mixing the winos and the potheads might have started a rumble.On display (and for sale) was a mostly gorgeous array of vases, cups and abstract sculptures, all made of clay. I saw many an attendee rightfully ooh-ing and aah-ing over the work of Penny Lee. Her pieces, including a stunning gourd-like teapot and a helix-like vase, were remarkable. Ditto Glenn Dair's work, in particular his vessels with faux-Arabic writing that looked like they should be in a museum -- except they weren't chipped and no one yelled at you if you picked one up. Dair joked that, given the current political climate, faux-Arabic was not the best language to decorate with if he wanted to sell the pieces. Fortunately, the kind of people who'd be offended by Arabic lettering typically aren't able to recognize it when they see it.

He's a man, baby: Am I the only person who assumed that singer Angie Aparo is a woman? At 28, am I already that out of touch? (Actually, I'll be 29 Aug. 4. Send gifts to Andisheh Nouraee, Creative Loafing, 750 Willoughby Way, Atlanta, GA 30312.) Am I gonna start thinking that Pink Floyd is a person?Anyway, Angie Aparo is a man -- a whiny, singing man. Aparo was one of the performers sharing Friday's Downtown Rocks stage with headliners the Violent Femmes, the band I actually went to see. The Femmes are, in rock 'n' roll terms, rather ancient. If you're unfamiliar with them, they're a folky-punky-geeky alternative rock band. In fact, they're one of the first bands to sport the now meaningless "alternative" moniker. Their most famous song, the near-hit "Blister in the Sun" was released close to 20 years ago.

Nevertheless, the Downtown Rocks crowd of 99X-loving, beer-swilling youngsters knew all the words to "Blister" and several more Femmes songs. I suspect that "Blister's" enduring popularity has to do with the simplicity of its famous opening riff. Even people who can't play the guitar can pick one up and learn it in a minute. As a result, even though the song was never a huge hit, somebody somewhere is always playing it.

To Bring You My Film: Stories From The Road is a documentary film about rock musician PJ Harvey made by the people who brought you, well, nothing actually ... it's their first film. According to Amanda Mazur, she and Director Kyle Keyser began the film as an elaborate attempt to meet Harvey, one of their musical heroes. Spending thousands on airfare and film equipment, the pair followed Harvey's 2001 tour in support of her acclaimed Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea album throughout the U.S. and Europe. Although the pair got to know several members of Harvey's band and management, they never could meet her. According to her "people," she's very shy.On Sunday night at the Fountainhead in East Atlanta, Mazur and Keyser hosted a fund-raising get-together for the film. For $20, partygoers were offered a chance to buy the film credit of their choice. When the film is released, the credits, along with the purchaser's name, will scroll at the end. Purchased credits included, "Animal Trainer," "The Best Grip," "The Fluffer," and my personal favorite, "PJ Harvey." NPR fans might like to know the party's attendees included Martina O'Boyle, the woman who does the traffic news during "All Things Considered." By the time I left, she had not yet purchased a title.

You Can Ride It If You'd Like: On a Saturday night a couple of months of ago, I stopped to get gas at the BP right next to the Varsity on North Avenue. Pretty good story so far, don't you think? Be patient, there's more. Anyway, that night seemingly every inch of the gas station's property that wasn't directly in front of a gas pump was occupied by motorcycles. Sport bikes, to be precise (they're the speedy, colorful Japanese ones). Wondering what possessed these bikers to gather at a BP, and realizing that I could pass the whole adventure off as work, I went back to the BP last Sunday to investigate.The parking lot was once again filled with bikes. According to biker-in-attendance Eric Flemister, bikers have been gathering at that BP for about three years. They come to socialize with one another and talk bike, and chose the BP because it's safe, convenient and they can get refreshments from the station's convenience store or the nearby Varsity.

Nobody really organizes it, they just sort of show up there.

Any notions you have about bikers being a lawless, unruly bunch will vanish if you stop to talk to any of them. They're all friendly as can be. Some of their lawless, marauding bike gang activities include going on vacation, going to the track for racing, and, lock up the women and children ... golfing.

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