Tours de Farce: The Lonely Streets Of Nowhere
This is a town without concerts.
It didn’t used to be this way. Not too long ago the old-timers would sit on the bench outside the drugstore, waiting for their Viagra refills while passing the day talking about the days when bands like GWAR or artists like MC Paul Barman or Henry Rollins played their town. But eventually even the senior citizens gave up hope and moved on to greener pastures so they too could see Halford, Beenie Man and The Cramps.
Maybe the warnings were right. Maybe you can’t store nuclear wastes next to the water supply and still expect Sting or Don Henley to play your market. Maybe it was because the younger members of the close, inter-related community didn’t travel far enough to find their future husbands and wives. Or maybe it was that freak mosh pit explosion at a Stone Temple Pilots show that marked the beginning of the end. No matter, the music is gone, the civic center sits empty, the ticket service is history and encores are only echoes of a distant past.
Don’t let this happen where you live.
Go to every single concert that comes your way. Welcome Rancid and Chumbawamba with open arms. Buy lunch for the Slipknot roadies and treat Marilyn Manson like a favorite uncle. Let them play at your sports arenas and amphitheatres. Share with them your homes, your cars, your emergency rooms, your liquor and your ATM cards. Let them know that they are welcomed. Treat them like the gods they are.
But don’t mention where you keep your nuclear waste. Some artists might have a problem with that. Go figure.