I'd like to dedicate this publick post to mah buddy waxpumpkin because it's That Time of Year For Pumpkins and because he'll prolly appreciate the subject matter and also because it's going to be his HEY-SHORTY-IT'S-YO-BIRTHDAY in a few hours, and you know what THAT means, or at least he does.
Uh yeah. So, CBGB's officially Is No More. And I can't say I feel too sad about it. I mean, come on, that place was open for 33 motherhuggin' years! 3-3!!! That's as long as JC and John Belushi themselves got to spend on this earth! (not that I'm equating the two mind you) Whereas most of the Punque Clubz where yours truly got to spend her Formative Punque Yrs were lucky to survive for 3 years! Lakefront HELLO...Underground GONE DADDY GONE...Po(o)p Sho(o)ppe RIP... Pat's of course being thee big eggzception, but I think she was shut down or not doing shows for a few years here and there. The Grog is still around but it's in a different spot and, ehhh, it ain't and never was that "punk". Hell, some of the places I went survived more like 3 months...in some cases they weren't even around long enough for me to actually GET there rather than just hear about it! **coughcoughJunglecoughcoughChurchcough** And yet I'm s'posed to be sad cuz some place is closing its doors after 33 years?! When they didn't even have the sense to buy the building out when it was cheep. Eh well.
And (brace yourselves, this is even worse heresy) I never even went to CBGB's. I had a chance to go in college, and I turned it down cuz all I could think of was what if I get creamed on the highway and my Mom Finds Out (of course I wouldn't have told her I was going to NYC with a band) and My Life Is Ruined Forever? Plus I think I had Required Electronics Lab or something the next day. They went without me. Dead Guy brought me back a sweater that I hated at the time (it was brown and obviously handmade by someone artsy who didn't believe in fitted sweaters, and I was still young and had a Bust and a Shape Yanno?) but which I pretended I liked because it was (a) from him and (b) my only article of clothing from NYC. I wore it for a few years and I did eventually get to like it. Fast forward 20something years to my second chance to darken the door of CB's, at the Official Naming of Joey Ramone Place which I just happened to be at. Seriously, I didn't plan to be there or anything---as some of you know, I had just had a super-exhausting October what with starting a new job and having all kinds of upson downs with El Kiddo so I went up to the citay to crawl into a bottle in peace surrounded by exciting scenery uh I mean, take a little break. And I happened to see in the papers that this Joey Ramone happening was going on so I figured there'd be enough people at it in broad daylight that I wouldn't get mugged (Forgive me Ed Koch for I still think I am living back in your era), so I went and there was this long line and I had no idea what it was for so of course I went ahead and got in it! Hell it coulda been for free methadone chasers for all I knew. The woman ahead of me was like 55 years old and short and fat and had about 200 little plastic toys hanging off her backpack, which I thought was neat but which must have added about 15 pounds of weight to it, and she was yakking on her cellfone about how she was friends with Tish and Snooky and were they here yet? And at some point I realized I was in the line to get into CBGB's which was so full that ppl had to come out before they could let other ppl in, and I thought eh I don't want to miss the street sign unveiling, and anyway what am I going to do in there? I don't want to drink when I have to walk back to the subway and had plenty last night, and the drinks are probably rotten and overpriced in there anyway IF you can get near to the bar, and besides, Dead Guy (the only person I knew personally who played there) is as ded as Joey Ramone is at this point and I don't know any of these ppl and I don't want to pretend I do because when the Ramones were RaMoaning, I was stuck at my 'rents house with my mom yelling and taking my Lester Bangs history of Blondie away from me raving about Debbie Harry's outfits being Immoral and How I Was Going To Hell. I tried to explain to her that I was reading it because Lester Bangs was funny and a good writer and I couldn't care less about Debbie Harry (which was the truth - I didn't care for Blondie then and still don't, but that book never failed to make me think and crack me up). But Mom wasn't having any. And ya know, I think Joey Ramone, bless his dead little teenage lobotomied heart, could dig that scene. Maybe a lot more than CBGB's. So I got out of the line and I watched the sign get unveiled and I never did see the inside of this fabled place and you know what? I don't much care. Cuz Paisley Park is In Your Heart. THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT.