Oh, The Horror

I know I said I wouldn't post about BTJ again (or LBJ for Little Bitch J, thank you Lindy), but I have suffered the ultimate humiliation due to his chicken-shit actions. I just have to share this, or I will implode.

I had a fantastic, productive day at the office today. It was one of those where you feel good about your efforts and can say you've put in some good honest work to earn that paycheck.

After feeding and de-watering CruiserDog, checking my mail, starting a load of neverending laundry, I picked up the phone to call a friend and heard that familiar signal which meant that I had a voice mail message waiting.

If I have a message during the workday on my home phone, it is usually something like a reminder about a dentist appointment or someone wanting to give me the news that I have WON a 3-day cruise on some 50-year-old tub they call a ship. Basically, these messages are usually nothing to get excited over.

Today was different. I heard this girl say "This is Christine with Todd Rundgren Merchandise. Ummmm......the t-shirts you bought in Las Vegas? Ummm.....your credit card was declined. Please call me back with a valid credit card number this time."

I was mortified! Of all the places or people to look like a total slacker.....Todd.

God. Dammit.

My blood began to curdle. Again. After mumbling, no make that stating loudly and with force some obscenities, I calmed down and called Christine.

She was pretty cool about the whole mess when I explained what had happened with the LBJ. In fact, when all was said and done, we dished a bit about men and were buddies for life.

Maybe not life, per se, but buddies for 3 minutes at the least.

Grrrrrrrrr.

Todd Heaven

Welcome back from the weekend, y'all. What did ya do? Really? Isn't that illegal in some states?

My weekend? Thanks for asking. Well, it was a little fun, a little icky (I felt like poo on Friday), and a little restful. Rinse and repeat. I saw a couple of bands with a friend, met a new friend in one of those bands, had dinner with another friend, and had another friend over for drinks and girl-talk.

It's good to have friends. I missed seeing them as much while I was tethered to the Boy Toy. I need to remember that the next time a cute guy catches my eye. In hindsight, BTJ wasn't interested in meeting my friends. That should've been a warning. Duly noted for next time.

Let's back up to the weekend before this past one, shall we?

It was Vegas, baby. I know 'dats right! And believe it or not, it wasn't just for the legalized gaming. No, seriously! What?

What it was was (okay, that just looks stupid when it's written out) for something else that is on the list of my very favorite things. Todd. And Kasim. *blush* *blush again* Hee. (And Prairie and Jesse, for that matter.) TR finished up touring with The New Cars and did a quick west coast tour called "My Tour. My Music." Awesome. Todd doing Todd. I was in Todd Heaven.

He put together his best band ever and it showed. Todd was truly in his element and on fire! And with the addition of Kasim on bass, Prairie on drums and Jesse on guitar - it was one big happy-fest for CruiserMel. To say the show rocked is an understatement. What's a better word than rocked? Honestly, help me here.

And I got to meet some folks who I'd met online and in person before during some of my previous "rock-n-roll hor" travels. We partied til the wee hours after the show. Hard. I'm pretty sure some of the folks involved don't even remember just how hard...but the word on the street is that one guy threw up in the men's room near the casino so he could re-fill himself with alcohol and two of the girls practically emptied the bar of it's tequila supply. I maintained my wits about myself (or perhaps had just conditioned myself previously) because I knew I had to hit the blackjack tables after we'd weeded-out the weak ones. Survival of the fittest, ya know. Oh yeah, and though I made it until 5:30 in the AM, I finally lost enough to call it quits. Of course, I'm wishing I had that money right about now following my BTJ experience...but at the time, it didn't matter. It's just the cost of going to Vegas. And the trip was so worth it.

To wipe that image of BTJ out of my head, I give you a video of the show that was shot a few days before I got to see the boys. Sorry for the vibrating picture at times, but apparently Kas' bass was doing it's job. (As well as that dazzling smile - or is it just me? Ahem.) The audio sure is nice. So I give you Todd's take on how soul is missing from today's music. I agree with him on this one. Enjoy!

Love Me My Live Music

I saw this on Anonymous Coworker's site today and couldn't wait to rip it off and bring it to my little blog. Anyone who wants to play along - please do!




Copy this list, leave in the bands you’ve seen perform live, delete the ones you haven’t, and add new ones that you have seen until you reach 25. An asterisk means the previous person had it on their list. Two asterisks means the last two people who did this before you had that band on their list.


Here’s my list (in no particular order and just because they are on the list doesn't mean these were my favorite shows, they're just all I can think of this morning):



1. David Cassidy (yeah, what of it.......)

2. The B-52’s** (it was during college......and I think I was there.....)

3. Todd Rundgren / Utopia / Kasim Sulton (duh)

4. Duran Duran (I will always be a teeny-bopper at heart.)

5. Queen (both incarnations, but I made out with a boy during the 1st version & kinda missed it)

6. Paul Rodgers (smoooooth)

7. Tears for Fears (one of my very favorite shows ever)

8. Bon Jovi (arena rock rocks!)

9. The Pretenders (another college show.....but I have a better recollection of this one)

10. The New Cars (duh, again)

11. Celine Dion (I know, I know....there goes my cool factor)

12. Collective Soul (phenomenal)

13. No Doubt (she's simply incredible live.)

14. Mae (okay, so I've got a little emo in me....be gentle.)

15. Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers (how can you go wrong with TP & the HBs?)

16. Green Day (didn't Billie Jo make my "list" before?)

17. Matchbox 20 / Rob Thomas (KP & I crashed their hospitality suite!)

18. Cheap Trick (too many times to count)

19. John Mayer (I think I'm still melting.......)

20. Melissa Etheridge (I went alone. I had no idea I'd be the only straight female there!)

21. Elvis Costello (coolest geek I've ever seen)

22. Van Halen (both incarnations)

23. Meat Loaf (duh, once again)

24. Jonny Lang (That's MISTER Jonny Lang, thankyouverymuch.)

25. Aerosmith (yowza, how do they do it at their ages???)



Come on, join the fun! Try not to cheat by looking at your ticket stubs or iPod library.

The Last BTJ Story

I sneaked out of town on y'all over the weekend for a quick jaunt to Vegas. It was a whirlwind and it has kicked. my. butt. Seriously, I look like someone with narcolepsy, head-a-bobbing even though I've been home for 48 hours. I will certainly do a post about my trip in the coming days, so stay tuned. I want to be sharp and hopefully funny. For a change.

Meanwhile, there's been a Boy Toy story brewing. I haven't really mentioned him of late because I must have sensed that my feelings were changing or something was afoot. Or both. But there was a proverbial straw that broke my friggin' back and we are now past tense.

Get a load of this, will ya?

So, yesterday I took a few bills to work with me that I needed to pay, right? I opened my MasterCard bill and saw that it was one of my bigger ones - with a couple of airline flights, three hotel stays, and multiple restaurant visits along with the usual grocery and gasoline listings. Oh and a nifty DVD/VHS dealio I got for my mother.

For some reason, I noticed some charges to companies I don't do business with, including an electric company that somehow I had heard of before but couldn't place it, a satellite dish company (not my own), and a car payment to a dealership here in Dallas. Last I checked, I've never had a car payment. Hmmmmm.

I called to see what was shakin' and lo and behold, someone had paid their bills with my credit card. From my computer. In the middle of the night. Uh-huh. I may be a blogger extraordinaire (not), but I am old school when it comes to my money and I don't do my banking or bill-paying online, so this pricked up my ears.

I began to put the pieces together in my head. These charges were made to my account on a Sunday morning in the wee hours. I checked my calendar. I'd been out with BTJ the night before, for a night of drinking and live music and I recalled that on that particular night, I'd taken to my bed while he worked on his website on my computer in the kitchen. My purse gets thrown on the kitchen counter every time I get home.

*LIGHT BULB*

Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah. He had helped himself to the contents of my purse and took it upon himself to pay some bills with the CruiserCard.

I contacted my card company and have started the process of disputing the charges and have cancelled the account. I'm responsible that way.

But I'm also a redhead and my blood began to boil. I had "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" rolling around in my head all day as I devised my plan.

We had a date last night to have dinner together. It had been several days since we'd seen each other and he was feeling amorous. Little did he know......Hell truly hath no fury like a woman whose purse has been violated.

I whored-up and looked amazing. I listened to tunes that psyche me up as I drove out to his place. We were all smoochy and cuddly during dinner.

All the while, I had my plan ready to pounce. And pounce I did.

After dinner I asked him what electric company he uses. When he answered, I pulled out a blown-up copy of my cc bill and pointed to the name and said "Oh, this one?" I thought his face would peel off his skull.

"Exactly how long did you think you'd get away with this?"

There was some quick verbal tap-dancing for a brief time until he suddenly turned the whole thing around on me. On me!

"I knew this would bite me on the ass. I knew you wouldn't remember giving me your card number! You wrote it down on a yellow sticky note and told me to pay my bills."

Rrrriiiiiiight. Because that's so like me. And because I have a house-full of yellow sticky notes. NOT. (I don't even have yellow sticky notes at my office - I prefer the "neon" colors.) Try again, dude. On the other hand, don't even try.

I remember saying "this is the end" as I drove him home.

He had the nerve to ask as we turned into his driveway if we were still going to go to see my friend's band this Friday night. WHAT THE FUCK?

I don't know if stupidity is a valid reason for breaking up with someone, but it seems like a good enough reason for me.

On my way home, I was high as a kite on me. I felt like Helen Reddy and "hear me roar" and stuff. If I could've high-fived myself, I would've. It was strangely empowering. And I dug it.

Ladies, live and learn. I've certainly learned something here.

And I know this door was closed so that a window to someone really wonderful can open.

If It's Wednesday, This Must Be Oklahoma

Oh oh oh, I cannot believe I haven't blogged about the nutty thing I did a couple of weeks ago! I sewanee, someone needs to stick a fork in me, I'm done. Apparently.

Anyhoo here's the dealio. You guys know I'm a Todd Rundgren fan, yes? (here's where you answer with a resounding "yes" and no eye rolls, okay?)

Sooooo, though I've seen The New Cars plenty-o-times, I knew they were swinging through Oklahoma City and it kept gnawing at me that "hey, that's pretty close by and it's the end of the tour and who knows when they will hit the road again, and and and and...." So - the day before the show, I got a wild hair (hare?) and asked the boss if he was cool with me to take the next afternoon off. I had a doctor's appointment anyway, so why not just not return to work? Have I mentioned lately that I have the single-most cool boss?

I didn't even try to find a partner in crime. I was off on my own little private adventure and sometimes driving with my tunes blaring is therapeutic, so I was actually excited to be doing something a little daring and fun. (Because y'all know I sooo don't live like that. What're you looking at?)

What I thought would take 3 hours ended up taking 4 1/2. Who knew OKC had rush-hour traffic jams? Geez, didn't these people know I was in a hurry? I mean, it was TODD ferheavenssake. Tsk.

I screeched into the parking lot and went inside to procure a ticket, any ticket would do - I mean, who literally waits until 15 minutes before showtime? Oh yeah, I do. Since I only needed one ticket - guess who got 3rd row?

Excuse me while I strut my stuff.

Okay, back now.

The show was fantabuloso! Best yet. The guys were either happy this tour was ending pretty soon or they got into the happy juice - but seriously, they played their hearts out and Todd was brilliant as always.

I met some cool folks, too. I was passing out cards for my friend Doug who has an internet radio show on Wednesday evenings all about "all things Todd" and people seemed jazzed about it. It was fun to meet some fellow Todd-heads with Oklahoma accents for a change.

I had been seated next to a guy (yeah, he's quite a cutie and yes, we traded digits) and his mom. "Mom" was really sweet and has been a Toddhead far longer than even I have been (and that's a long time, believe) but she hadn't seen him perform live before. (Uh, where ya been, Mom?) So when the show was over, she actually cried. It was a beautiful moment.

Since I was trying to score points with the kid, and by kid I mean he's upper-30's, I said "Are y'all going to go around back and try to see the band?" It never occurred to them to even try. Shit, people - stick with me and learn, will ya? Gaaaaaa.

So we went around back and sure enough, we found the bus and saw Elliott Easton chatting with a friend. Then I spotted Atom Ellis leaving the bus with a duffel bag in tow, clearly on a mission to go change clothes or hit the men's room or whatnot. I caught his attention and he came over for a quick chat and signed my ticket. (He remembered me from earlier in the summer. Hee.) "Mom" was impressed by this time. I thought she was going to faint. Seriously.

Then, Todd peeked around from behind the bus and waved. I expected to hear her limp body hit the concrete, but instead she went all hormonal and LOUD and started yelling his name at him about 20 times. Obviously frightened, he waved once again and made a sign like "sorry, but we've got to get on the bus" and disappeared. How uncool. On her part. And kinda on his part, too....I mean, there were only like 10 people there and only ONE was acting, well - groupie-stupid. That's only 10% crazy, Todd. But what-er-ya-gonna-do? "Mom" was all upset, yelling for him to "aw, come on, Todd" and "please?" and "Oh what-ever!!!!" Her son and I pulled her away and she settled down. Then it hit her - she'd seen Todd. And he waved. And she was gone gone gone to Lalaland and all was right with the world again. Once again, a beautiful moment. Awww.

Then the fun began. I had worked 1/2 a day, driven 4 1/2 hours, seen the show, hung out awhile afterwards, and now it was 11:00 and I faced that drive home. Of course, the sleepies came over me. I popped in my new BadEnders cd (it's wonderful, btw), took a deep breath, got gasoline and a diet coke and headed home. 4 hours later I was home.

I was a zombie. A very happy zombie who got up a couple of hours later to go to work with very dark circles under my eyes.

Yeah, it was definitely worth it. Man, I love my life!

*Thanks to Nancy for letting me steal her picture - as my camera still sucks hind titty.

**Doug's RundgrenRadio show is too cool, y'all. Last week, he had Todd's wife on the show. I called-in and got to ask her some questions. Check it out if you have any interest in Toddly things. Tonight, Doug's guest is Alec Roeser, a 17 year old musician who is freakishly Todd's clone in style and voice. This kid's going to go places. Trust.

Rockdog's Radio Show

Oh what fun I had last night. Actually, the night was nothing but a laundry list of miscommunications with Boy Toy J - so basically, I was at home with a supply of cherry vodka and idle hands.

And idle ears.

So I tuned into Rockdog's radio show just for grins. His radio show is every Saturday night at midnight, eastern time. Rockdog has been a regular here at CruiserMel's place and I love reading his very funny blog. You should check it out some time, too. You won't be disappointed.

Last night's show was too funny. Rockdog had asked his readers to send in recipes for the weirdest drink concoctions and his cousin, J-Bone, would try each one (some of which were on the air - and therein lies the humor) and rate it. The winner would become the Official Drink of Rockdog's blog.

There were drink ideas including milk-of-magnesia, pink lemonade, rum, beer, vodka, kahlua, Slim-Fast, cactus juice and Ovaltine, not necessarily all mixed together in the same drink, but some actually were. (Think of this one: beer, vodka, and pink lemonade. In the same glass. Nun-unh.) Rockdog has some disturbed readers apparently.

The best part was listening to Cousin J-Bone's speech get slurred as the show went on. Early in the hour he was pimpin' a movie called "Run Ronnie Run" which later became "Ron Runny Ron." That's good theatre, people.

And so is this. I hope Cousin J-Bone didn't do this after the show. Eeewwwww.

CruiserMel: Superhero

I was just reading about Swishy's recent brush with death or perversion and it reminded me about a time the hidden superhero in me decided to throw me under the bus and risk my life.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, I'm not trying to set a scene in a movie. It really was a dark and stormy night, k? I'm not sure why I chose this particular time to do my grocery shopping, but I'm sure there was pizza or toilet paper involved, two items I cannot live without.

I headed over to my favorite Kroger and played hunter/gatherer (also known as the person who puts things in a buggy and pays for them.) I recall having an unusually full buggy as I made my way outside into that dark and stormy night. What? Okay, so maybe I am trying to throw some atmosphere into the story. Deal with it.

As I said before, it was raining just enough that I needed to open my $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella to keep my tresses dry and frizz-free. Are you getting the picture here? I've got one hand holding my umbrella and my purse and the other is pushing a quite unruly buggy across the parking lot. Pretty and oh so graceful, I'm sure. It's a pity Prince Charming wasn't there to ride up on his white horse and take me away right then and there.

My car was parked maybe 4 or 5 spaces away from the front door on the left side. I saw a woman loading groceries into her car, 4 or 5 spaces away from the front door on the right side. I was moving pretty slowly, wonky-wheeled buggy and all, you know. Or maybe it was just the usual sense of moving in slow-motion beginning to set in.

Suddenly, an older Cadillac comes driving towards us, going the wrong direction. That's not so unusual in that parking lot - there are alot of assholes who don't know how to navigate a parking lot at my Kroger.

All at once, the Cadillac stops, the driver gets out and starts to grab the lady's purse from her. And she's not going to give it up to save her soul. (First rule - stupid stupid stupid.) The two of them had a virtual tug-of-war going on and neither one wanted to let go.

I heard a female voice shouting. It was me. And I sounded like one bad-ass mo-fo. *big grin* It sounded like I was channelling a roller-derby chick or Ethel Merman, one or the other.

"Hey. Hey. Hey! HEY!", Ethel shouted.

At that instant, I abandoned my buggy (yep, there WAS toilet paper involved....I remember now, because it got soaking wet in the rain) and ran like a woman possessed towards the damsel in distress.

The $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella did just that.....it collapsed. Mary Poppins I am not. I started beating the man over the head and neck with this laughable weapon. Why I didn't try to poke his eyes out with it, I'll never know. (Apparently, I need a tune-up self-defense course. Noted.)

I was seriously whoopin' this guy's ass, well head, and almost emerged victorious, when suddenly the purse strap broke and the guy got the purse and got back in the car to drive off.

I heard Ethel Merman shouting again. She was shouting the license number over and over again so that someone, anyone, would write it down. (Ethel's not good at remembering these things in times of duress.) It seemed like a good idea at the time. As it turns out, it is a good idea, because someone actually did write it down and the scumbag was caught the next day. Of course, the whole ordeal was caught on videotape, too. I told you some people are stupid at my Kroger.

A couple of weeks later, I was contacted by a detective who brought out a photo line-up for me to my office. (I have to admit, I really wanted to go down to "headquarters" and go behind one of those two-way mirrors and say "that's the guy, third from the left," but maybe they don't do that in real life. Bummer.) I successfully I.D.d the perp (heh) and he didn't even go to trial. He'd been caught, red-handed. He pled guilty immediately and waived his right to trial. Double bummer. I love that stuff. I wanted to be on CourtTV, ferheavenssake. Loser.

Disclaimer: Don't do as I did. That was so foolish, for both myself and for the other woman. This guy could've been armed and desperate. Luckily, he was just a big chicken who lived with his mother and had stolen mommy's car so he could go get beer money. Yeah, beer money.

Bottom line: Just because you are armed with a $10 WalMart collapsible umbrella doesn't necessarily mean that it's a good idea to interfere with a purse-snatchin', my chitlins.

I Got Tagged, Just Sayin'

I got tagged by my sweetie over at Just Sayin. Since my brain is mush following the holiday weekend, I will comply.

The Rules of this tag:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. List eight (8) random facts about yourself.
3. Tag eight people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving them a comment on their blogs.

So here ya have it:

A. I have to alternate shampoos/conditioners everyday. Seriously, I cannot use the same brand two days in a row. To be honest, I prefer to wait 4 or 5 days before repeating. There's hardly room for me in my shower.

B. I think the Cingular / AT&T wireless commercials are brilliant.

C. I sang backup with my friend KP for some bands in the Dallas area back when I was hot. No, hotter than hot. Matter of fact, our name was The Scorchin' Babes.

D. I'm addicted to Sudafed. I freak out if I see that my supply is getting low. And while I'm on the sudafed topic, let me rant a little. Dear Crackheads: Because you guys have gotten caught using the ingredients in my beloved Suda (yeah, we're on a first-name basis) to make your rotten stinkin' drugs, I now have to sign over my first born at the pharmacy everytime I have a stuffy nose. I don't like feeling like a CruiserCriminal. So, stop it, okay?

E. "Will & Grace" and "The Dick Van Dyke" shows are the very best situation comedies to ever grace (heh) the airwaves. There are some other shows that come/came close, but those two will forever be in my heart as my faves.

F. I'm a lousy housekeeper, unless I know a guest is coming over. Then I become the housekeeper from hell. And I am one fast mo-fo, too.

G. Naps on the weekend are God's gift.

H. My house has become over-run with chameleons lately. I'm not sure where they've come from, but someone's having babies in there. They're actually kinda cute. Someone told me they eat bugs. Cool with me. I hate bugs. But stay out of my bed and my towels. I saw you hiding in my towel the other morning and it kinda creeped me out. You can have the rest of the house. Deal?

Okay, I know some people don't like getting tagged, so I'll leave it all up to you. If you want to proclaim that you have been tagged, just let me know. If you aren't interested, that's cool, too.

The Airline Pilot

Ever had a couple of hours to kill? I did. And here's what I found. I can't stop laughing, nor can I see through the tears in my eyes. Enjoy!

In Case You Thought Rockstars Are Losers

I admit it. I had another post up for about 6 hours today, well during the night. I took that sucker down, because 1.) it wasn't remotely funny, 2.) it was negative and me no likey the negative.

So here is the replacement post, but 1.) it's not remotely funny, 2.) it's not negative cuz me no likey the negative.

It was brought to my attention the following news story and I thought it was cool. Read it here. If you don't want to read it, basically it says that Brian May, guitarist for Queen put his educational needs on hold when Queen hit it big back in the 70's. I guess he got bored one day and decided to tie up some loose ends and finished his PhD in Astrophysics. Mmmkay. Still, how groovy is that? I mean, that's hard!!!

Now, I for one have considered (for a few brief moments) going to graduate business school or switching it up entirely and going to paralegal school or maybe even art school. But I figured I am way out of practice with the studying game, at my advanced age of .... oh wait, you're not getting me to go there, but let's just say that I've been out of college for a while. I feel so totally wimpy now. Go Brian!

And this just entered my head the other day. Remember when I went up to Cleveland and saw a Meat Loaf concert and that one girl I'd met got mugged before the show? Well, I never finished the story. Apparently, after the show, she was hanging around out back, trying to get an autograph or photo or whatnot. She was telling someone about the mugging and Meat Loaf overheard her talking. Do you know what he did? He had one of his security dudes walk her to her car. That big guy must have one big heart. Awwwwwwwww.

That's about it. My blogging well is a little on the dry side today. I've got some good stuff planned this week, so I'm hoping to have something interesting to report.

Meanwhile, y'all have a great week, you hear?

Daytime Television Sucks

Ugh. What a day.

When my alarm went off, I woke up with one of those blaring headaches. Those ones that escape description. All you know is that something hurts like a mutha and you just want to reach into your cranium and pull a chunk of pain out through your ear. Nothing was going to help except for a big dose of Excedrin, some hot tea and hitting the bed with CruiserDog for a few more hours of shut-eye.

When I awoke around 4:00 this afternoon I felt loads better. I moved into the den to see what might be on daytime television.

What a disappointment! I figured out I don't think I'd make a good kept woman. Daytime television sucks. Hard.

I'm no Oprah girl. I have to be in the mood for Lifetime network. Even VH-1 didn't grab my attention. I've got the super duper grande package of channels, but couldn't find anything. Anything!

I picked through my DVD collection and pulled out a little gem I had not seen in awhile and popped it in the player. I should've watched it earlier today. It might be good medicine.

So with little adieu, I give you, Spinal Tap.

Does Anyone Use the Term "Bad" As A Good Thing Anymore?

To all my Dallas-Fort Worth readers (and beyond, if you're interested):

Once upon a time, I knew a boy named Dan. He was barely knee-high to a boll weevil at the time. His dad works with CruiserMel.

Well, the years have gone by, Dan has shot up way taller than that boll weevil and he and his fellow bandmates Will and Guyton are embarking on a musical recording career.

That's not to say he and and his band haven't been paying their dues. Oh my no. In fact, I can attest to the fact that I've actually seen this band grow and strengthen over the past couple of years. They write their own songs......and their sound is hypnotic and haunting, with beautiful sweet vocals tying it all together. I'm no expert, but according to their myspace site, they name Coldplay and Oasis as musical influences and it shows. I really like them. Really really like them. (Oh my, I'm sounding like Sally Field, aren't I?)

This summer they teamed up with producers Todd and Toby Pipes of "Deep Blue Something" fame (remember "Breakfast at Tiffany's") and have recorded their songs and personally, it sounds very good, if I may say so myself.

The bottom line here is that Dan, Will, and Guyton, who make up BadEnders will be releasing their new CD on August 31st in Plano, Texas. So if you're in the neighborhood (and I know I'll certainly be there), there is a CD release party going on at Rock Steady. Come on out and support the guys. Support BadEnders. Give 'em a listen. You won't be sorry.

Love Me Some British Comedy

It's Sunday night and I'm totally spent from the weekend. So I'll make this brief. This looks just too funny! Anyone else?

Cleveland, Part Two

When we last left our super hero, er me, I was making my way into downtown Cleveland in the hearse in the rain.


Scratch that. It was a monsoon. Or typhoon. Ridiculous rain. And my $10 WalMart umbrella with super powers used mainly for fighting off villains in Kroger parking lots was nowhere to be found.


Well, there goes a waste of good hair products.


I pulled up in what must've been an area of Cleveland that was used in some Stephen King movie about the apocalypse because seriously, there was not an open business nearby except a Subway restaurant and the masonic temple thingy. So much for going cheap with the hotel reservation, CM.


I pulled the hearse into the parking lot and splashed through the potholes in bare feet. I should've taken it as a sign when the hotel had no welcoming mat on which to wipe my paws, so that when my day-old pedicured toes hit the marble floor, I went into full Herky cheerleader jump pose and landed on my right buttock. The Chinese woman at the desk didn't even look up. I guess that had happened a dozen times that morning. Hmmm, would a little eye contact or a "are you okay?" be admitting liability, Chinese wench?


The place was weird. It was an American hotel chain, but all the decoration was Chinese with those huge vases and Buddha statues everywhere. And they all had price tags on them in case you felt compelled to buy one of those 4-foot tall suckers to take home to the kiddies as a souvenir. "My mommy went to Cleveland and all I got was this lousy vase."


Because it was hours before the official check-in time, she only had one room ready. I'll take it, I said through wet bangs.


Chinese wench: You not intellested in dat loom.
CM: I'm not? Why not?
Chinese wench: It on floor we save for yung people.
CM: *thinking about taking her down at this point*
Chinese wench: Dat floor is where we put noisy people.
CM: How do you know I'm not noisy? Let me have it. *sheesh*


I opened the door to the room and it was lovely. For a Chinese-run American hotel chain whose door I will never darken again in my natural life, but was willing to give it the ole college try this particular time.


After whoring-up for the second time before noon, I did some exploring of the city, grabbed some lunch and talked on the phone with Kas before he had to go to sound check. Yeah, that's how I roll, bro. 'Nuff said.


Fast-forward to later that evening, if you will. I was to meet up with T, M, and S from England who runs Kasim's website and I swear must have a GPS planted on him since she knows where he is more often than he does, for dinner. We were to meet at the mall which provides parking for the venue. Easy breezy, huh? So, I'm waiting for the girls at the bottom of an escalator that takes you up into said mall, but still in the parking garage, right? I turn around and see a girl I'd met the night before at the solo show and she's white as a sheet and shaking uncontrollably. She was on her way to meet up with some Meat Loaf fans for a pre-concert dinner at a different restaurant in the mall and had been mugged only moments before she saw me.


Great P.R., Cleveland.


Anyway we helped her get her wits about herself, patted her on the behind (no, not really, I just like saying that) and sent her on her sad and pathetic way. At least the scumbag didn't steal her front-row-center ticket! Priorities, man!


After dinner we boarded a shuttle bus down to a really cool venue on the river. The Cuya-something River. The sun had come out and it was lovely. The show was amazing. (I know, you're thinking I must be kidding, right?) But really, it was wayyyy better than the show I'd seen in Philly in the spring. It went on for 2 hours and Kasim did well and looked oh-so-hot. What? Like he could look any other way? Thanks, T, again for letting me steal a photo from your camera.
But before too long, the show was over and dammit all, Cleveland rolled up the sidewalks and there was no place to go hang, get a beverage and trade our reviews.

What's up with that, Cleveland? Seriously, the city was dead and it was only 11:00. Oh well. I'd snarfed down enough $7 beers to lull me to sleep.

And sleep, I did. It's nice when the air conditioning is working and it's not raining in through the window. At least this hotel got points for that. And it wasn't noisy at all. Well, except for the sound of dead bodies being thrown down the elevator shaft or cows in pain.

The next day, Friday, I whored-up and met T for lunch and a day of Rock & Roll memorabilia at the Hall Of Fame. It was fantastic! If you're in Cleveland, check it out. But give yourself a bunch of time to do so. We almost ran out of time to see the special exhibit they've got (through this month or maybe next) about The Doors. I can't say I have ever been a fan, but the whole Jim Morrison legend does enthrall me. There's some really cool letters between Jim's father and the US Ambassador to France where he died. Lots of controversy there.

Oh that just reminded me - my friend Merv was a Jim Morrison fan and being the nutball that she is, she used to tell people he had not died and that he was living in her parents' guesthouse. Dunno why. But that's how she rolls, bro.

After the HOF, we grabbed a bite of dinner and parted ways since I was tired and wanted to just relax at my hotel and pack up to go home the next day.

After talking to a friend, M, on the phone for a bit, I was feeling like I wanted to visit the hotel bar for a nightcap. So, I put on some shoes and went downstairs to the hotel bar, which happened to be inside the, dare I say it?, Chinese restaurant. Um, k.

To the naked eye, the place looked like it should have dogs hanging up like meat, but the place totally rocked!

Apparently, all of the other guests at the hotel were Yankee fans who had just seen their boys win against the Indians. It must've been "towel" night at the ballpark, because they all had Cleveland Indians towels on their heads, in a mocking manner, and were quickly emptying the bar of their inventory.

I grabbed a bar stool and enjoyed a couple of Three Olives Cherry vodka with diet coke (my new drink) and became the token southern belle of the ball amongst a sea of New York accents. I was a hit, kind of like Blanche from The Golden Girls at a bar. Good times. And yes, that was a tip-of-the-hat to LindyStars and her Golden Girls references.

At 11:00 the bar closed. Seriously, Cleveland - what's with 11:00 being the witching hour?

We adjourned to one of the Yankee's rooms to play a little Texas Hold 'Em when my cellphone rang.

My mother had become very ill and was being taken to the hospital. In Dallas. Grrrreat. So much for playing poker with cute boys.

I spent the whole night on the phone, stressing and trying to get an earlier flight out of town to no avail. (Remember, it was after friggin' 11:00.) So I stuck with my original flight plan.

I made my way to the airport in the morning, dropped the hearse off at the rental place where they totally didn't believe I'd put any gas in the car (and they were right) and they charged me $30 for that lie.

Though I had a total blasty-blast and the people of Cleveland DO rock, I couldn't get home fast enough. Luckily, my mother made a turn for the better on Sunday and they released her from the hospital. Once I got her and her caretaker settled-in at the house, I went home and took a nap. A four-hour well-deserved nap.

And that, chitlins, was my trip to Cleveland. The End.

Tomorrow night - I'm collecting on my birthday prezzie from BTJ - tickets to see Patty Smyth and Scandal at the House of Blues. I need to find my shoulder pads and hairspray so I can hold my bangs in an unnatural upward fashion for my trip back to the 80's! FYI, the bass player in the back of this photo from 2005? Yeah, Kasim. Just sayin.

Have a great day, y'all. C U L 8 R.

Cleveland, Part One

And so it was that CruiserMel went to Cleveland, Ohio for a few days last week. And you, in return ask "why, CM?" Okay, I'll tell you.

Some time ago, I "met" a friend, we'll call her T, on a Todd Rundgren forum. We became email friends and somewhere along the line we became really good friends, online and on the telephone. We shared a mutual interest in all things Todd and/or Kasim-related. We would giggle and tell stories and trade photos. Online.

When Kasim was going to be in Cleveland doing a solo show, along with performing with Meat Loaf, and seeing as how CM hasn't done anything crazy in August yet, I decided this would be a perfect time to meet T in person and have a little sisterly bonding, whilst having a nice "view," as it were.

Funny sidenote: Boy Toy J actually blessed this union. And I'm not talking about meeting T. It was surreal. I'm sure it was spawned by alcohol and wanting to please his girlfriend, but when he said I should.......oh I can't tell it out loud.......let's just stick with surreal, shall we?

So, Wednesday morning I dropped The Romanian at the rental car place and got to the airport a full 2 hours before my flight. As you know, I'm prone to travel ghoulies and frankly, I'm perdy darn sick of it. So I decided to head the ghoulies off at the pass. Be proactive: that's my motto now.

I made the flight to Memphis just fine, even having time to grab a granola bar, some water and a tacky magazine at a newsstand. The flight was uneventful. That worried me a bit, I admit. As soon as the plane touched ground, I dashed to the front of the plane, wanting to be 1st to step off and move on to my connecting flight.

*pause* *longer pause* *even longer pause*

Would you believe the damn sky bridge (or whatever it's called) broke? I felt my scalp crawl. In my head I was praying "please get me off this plane." At least I hope it was in my head.

Then the pilot spoke: "We will lower the stairs from the rear of the plane for disembarkation for your convenience."

WHAT THE FUCK? I'm at the front of the plane!!!!!

Anyway - we deboarded like the Beatles arriving in NYC, except there weren't any adoring fans or flowers being thrown at us. Once I got around the slowest passengers on earth, I did an OJ through the airport and got to my gate with 2 minutes to spare. Two.

Once in Cleveland, I was "upgraded" to a "better" rental car than the roller skate on tires I'd signed-up for. Hey, I'm frugal; get over it. This "better" car was a huge monstrosity, a Dodge I think, and it looked like a hearse. A big, ugly hearse. Yeah, this was sexy all right. Quite.

I made my way to the hotel in a place called Willoughby (sounds pretty, doesn't it. ummmkay) where my room was as humid as a rainforest with water literally running down the mirrors, turned on the a/c and headed for the mall to get a mani and pedi. Happily, it was heavenly. I even fell asleep. Don't you love those chairs with the massage thingies in them?

Later on, I whored-up and T came to pick me up for dinner. She's adorable. She's sweet and kind of shy at first, but she's a hoot once you get her talking, especially about Kasim. We were like teenagers, giddy and excited to see Kas' solo show at a place called the Beachland Ballroom. Why it was called a ballroom, I'm not sure; it looked like a bar to me. And it had one of those, too. Bonus!

We got our seats on the first row and whispered about how cute he looked (he really did!) and how funny his stories are every time. In addition to getting to see Kasim, he was joined on stage by a surprise guest - Randy Flowers, one of the guitar players in Meat Loaf's band. Then in walked a good portion of the rest of Meat's band, including Paul Crook (the other guitarist) and the two girl singers (C.C. and Aspen Miller). It made it a very special night, for Kasim and for us. Natch, I bullied my way through the crowd to meet everyone. It was too cool for school, I tell ya.

Don't eeeeeeeven look at me in this next picture. Just look at that famous smile on Kas. But seriously, what's with my neck? And remind me to use more conditioner next time. Okay, you can look at me just this once because you have just got to see the dumbfounded deer-in-the-headlights look in my eyes. This is normal when I see him. I have no idea why he even bothers with me.

This next one is a little better. This is Paul Crook. He's got a great laugh.

That's Kasim, Randy, Aspen and Paul. Nice family portrait, no?

When the night was over, T took me back to the hotel, where lo and behold - darkness. Complete darkness. And not a hum or buzz of electricity in the air except for the buzzing in my head from a little too much bourbon. Luckily, T had a flashlight to give me, I opened the window, washed my face off and got on the cellphone with S (in California) to report about the night. Remember S? She's the one who got to meet Todd ON HIS BUS and is another Toddhead/Kasimhead. She ooohed and ahhhed over my night for an hour or so. After awhile, I decided to hit the bed.

At precisely 5:41 a.m., the lights and television turned on like a brutal high beam straight to my retinas! And it was raining. Into my room. Fantastico.

Later on that morning, I changed hotels to one closer into Cleveland to ready myself for another night of fun, T, Kasim and Meat Loaf.

I'll give you a day or two to absorb all of this. I know. You'll get over it. Eventually.

Thanks to T for letting me steal her photos as my camera decided to go on the fritz and was a totally worthless piece of shit all weekend.