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Tuesday, June 7, 2005
Cowtown countdown
Given that Willie Nelson’s Fourth of July Picnic is less than a month away (26 days and 19 hours as I write this), I’m a bit excited.
And given that I’ve been to eight of these picnics (I’m no old-timer yet, but I’m working on it), I’m inclined to make a few Willie Picnic predictions …
One: It will be hot (call me Nostradamus). But not as hot as the 1996 picnic in Luckenbach.
Two: Ray Price (who at 374 years of age can still knock ‘em dead in a nice concert hall) will look and sound completely out-of-place in the 100-degree twilight of the picnic.
Three: There will be an artist I’ve never heard of whom I will inadvertently pay attention to, be very impressed by, and completely forget about by July 5.
Four: Leon Russell (who is, I’m pretty sure, the only artist besides Willie to appear at every single picnic since the beginning in 1973) will look just as unthrilled to be there as he usually does.
Five: At least one Bob Dylan fan will wander in too early in the afternoon, drink too many beers, pass out and miss Bob’s entire set.
Six: Ray Wylie Hubbard will get four songs. He will perform “Snake Farm,” “Conversation with the Devil,” “Wanna Rock and Roll” and “Redneck Mother.” In that order.
I don’t know about you, but I’ll be counting the minutes soon enough.
Permalink | | Categories: By Dave Thomas
Roller redux
I don’t want to die wearing fishnet tights. I don’t. I don’t want to meet my maker with waffle-print thighs and besides, they’ll probably run and I’m just not punk rock enough to carry off the whole torn-fishnet look. I can just imagine Saint Peter (who for the purposes of this fantasy is played by my fabulous beyond-all-reason hairdresser Doug) looking me up and down, arching a one heavenly coiffed eyebrow and whispering “Oh girl, no,� before plummeting me into the loathsome gaping maw of eternal misery (which for the purposes of this fantasy is played by the state of Oklahoma).
This is why I don’t roller derby.
Fortunately, The Hotrod Honeys and three other teams comprising The Texas Rollergirls don’t feel the same way. They risk gruesome multiwheeled death just for your entertainment, and if you haven’t seen them skate the flat track at Playland then you are missing some of the best action to ever involve mascara, mouth guards and a heavily pregnant Penalty Princess named Hotwheels.
Each team has a theme: The Hotrod Honeys are pink and black bad girls with gasoline in their veins, while the disco-themed Hustlers are best described as “Studio 54: Beyond the Thunderdome.â€? The league’s only undefeated team, The Honkytonk Heartbreakers are devils in denim and the less said about The Hell Mary’s school girl outfits the better. Although suffice it to say that when they were on the track my gentleman companion, who went through 12 years of Catholic school, would not have noticed had I sprouted giant lobster claws and burst into a tower of raging flames in the seat right next to him.
Of course there were casualties. Eighty-two bruises, five cuts, 18 softball-sized knots and one permanently damaged white fluffy cottontail, previously belonging to The Hell Mary’s Bunny Rabid.
Oh sure, you say, it’s all fun and games until someone loses a tail. That’s right, it is, and after that it only gets better.
Permalink | Comments (3) | Categories: By Rhiannon Gammill
Table unreserved
What I like most about awards ceremonies, when they click, is the unpredictability factor. Not long into the Austin Critics Table Awards party at Cap City Comedy Club on Monday, writer/director Carlos Treviño rose to warn the full house that he saw cars towed from the far end of the club’s parking lot.
A quarter of the attendees, myself included, filed quickly out of the club to check their rides. Luckily, master of ceremonies Robert Faires had just introduced Austin Arts Hall of Famer Kerry Awn, who then stretched his acceptance speech into a 15-minute stand-up comedy routine — hands down, the funniest speech ever given by an Austin Hall of Famer.
Other highlights: The nervous awe displayed by St. Edward’s University students — some of them freshmen! — who accepted their awards for the musical “Honk!” Playwright Steve Moore humbly, eloquently accepting several awards for his soulful drama “Nightswim.” The befuddled joy of University of Texas School of Music representative Suzanne Hassler as she responded to award after award for her much-improved program.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
