Today was peculiar- I received two phone calls within an hour of each other from 2 major production companys inviting me personally (by way of someone's assistant) to 2 different soirees. It's insulting enough that the guys behind the calls in question both have my personal phone numbers and doled out the interns to annoy me, but its even more troublesome that I realized this might be the end of the Mass Text/ Junk Mail invite.
In the Ninth Level of Financial Hell that we're living in, its impersonal for business owners to send out mass SMS's or e-mails due to the backlash or lack of interest. A phonecall, however, forces the recipient actively RSVP. Smart move.
But there's more to it: Since when did the club promoter become so busy that they can't take 2 minutes out of their day and tell me they want me to bring my camera to their event instead of letting me assume that was the hidden message in the tea leaves after hanging up with their snot nosed intern? Maybe I'm ungrateful, but I just ate it on the concrete and scraped both palms, twisted my knee and NO ONE LAUGHED. The World is truly joyless.
However, I'm sure all those in Ed Hardy are extremely happy to get such phone calls.
"Bro. Dude. You'll never guess who called me today!"
-TC
Another amazing night at Chicago's musical wonderland, the Metro. Did you know if you're in the front row you can get bar service from a smiling server? When the beers flew past me in the photo pit I realized I have yet to experience many things. Amazing! Despite being completely confused by the opener Golden Filter (I couldn't tell if the lead singer was 22 or 82...nor if any of their songs were their own...) The Presets scorched the crowd with "Talk like that" as their opener followed by "Yippio-ay". I was exhausted by the 3rd song I didn't even want to take pictures anymore. The grandest thing was I couldn't remember the last time I saw so much lighting on stage for 2 guys. They had 14 Entour Mac 250s on stage with a huge light wall and leds for all you lighting geeks. Booka Shade might have had intense strobes, but The Presets had tactile brain destruction rolling out in every color. Beautifully done, mates.
KDM proved to be better than alright with some surprise appearance that made the night: Millionaire$Mano, Hollywood Holt, Caiti G., Jessie Lynne and q101's half-a-Manno. Jimmy O slammed some PBRs, waved goodbye and kidnapped Brandon's girlfriend to New York. This all ended seemingly well with two Irish-American asshole left wing socialists yelling about Obama at 2:30 in the morning. "Hey kids, welcome to the back of RiNo!! Its the Morgan and Tyler minute!" My apologies to anyone who had to swallow that vomit-inducing discussion. I've decided I will leave the politics at home next time and beef up on my Tolstoy or Joyce.
