So, I just got back to town from a week in the woods of Kansas hunting whitetail deer. TRYING to actually get one. More on that later. A band I have been seeing for a long time was playing Friday Saturday and Sunday downtown and I knew I wasn’t gonna make the first two nights. Usually, in fact I can say ALWAYS when they come through I get to every night. This time I went to ONE WIDESPREAD PANIC show. Sunday. I have heard that expression “never miss a Sunday show” more times than I can count and it is usually followed by a “Bro” or a “Dude”. This time was no different.

Something about them. I have long given up on that jam band style of music as boring and for the kids who haven’t really been exposed to the world of really good music out there. But for some reason Widespread Panic sticks it out. And it might be because they truly seem down home and like an American experience with songs about swamps and farms that reel me in even when driving down Wilshire Blvd. or heading to the Science museum. It might be because those six guys have become a true force that can make a song so deep and powerful while keeping the sun at their backs. They have mastered their art and I can’t get enough.

I don’t think I could miss them in my town. You shouldn’t either.

I am so glad I went. Sunday was a complete DUMPER with bomb after bomb and wild rhythms, precise changes and crying leads that were so fast and fluid I thought it may be the drugs that I was on….25 years ago. They truly inspired a smile the entire time and played a whole load of inspired songs:

11/08/09 Orpheum Theatre, Los Angeles, CA
1: Rock > Party At Your Mama’s House > Ribs And Whiskey, Can’t Get High, Diner > Three Candles > The Take Out > Space Wrangler > Henry Parsons Died

2: Jam > Holden Oversoul > Imitation Leather Shoes, Jack, This Part Of Town > Sleepy Monkey > Driving Song > Disco > Drums > It Ain’t No Use* > Driving Song > Fishwater

E: The Shape I’m In*, Can’t Find My Way Home*

* with Marc Ford on guitar
(Thanks Everyday Companion!!!)

I’ve been living in Southern California since 2000, and in some ways, in fact in MANY ways, I’m a converted SoCal at heart. For example, I have loads and loads of Fancy Eyewear. My God, I’ve got all sorts of Prada and Gucci eyewear that fit different occasions and moods. That’s how Fancy I am, Yo. And, Oh Snap, we haven’t even touched on sunglasses yet. Damn. In the words of David Sturm, “I’m. So. PRRRRREEEEETTTTTTTTTY!!!”

When I first arrived in SoCal as a permanent resident, I simply couldn’t handle the driving out here. It was so chaotic with a seemingly unpredictable disregard for human life and/or property at all times. I used to dread simple driving trips from Orange County to LA, especially during Rush Hour. I felt like Corky from Life Goes On trying to navigate my sled in traffic against overwhelming odds. Well, not anymore. I get it.

These days, I am a SoCal driver of the highest order. If I’m in the carpool lane going 90 mph and I realize that my exit is now 800 feet away, I’ll put on my blinker and cut off 8 lanes of traffic to make my exit. Or not even put on my blinker. I might just “pump fake” the lane change, wait a split second for the driver in the lane next to me to reflexitively slow down, then take his lane like he’s a drunk sorority girl wanting to see my aquarium upstairs. Game. Set. Match. BIIIIIIIITCH.

In most other facets of life I am (and I pride myself on being) a Nice Guy and a Good Guy. Meet me in a bar, and I’ll give you a hug and buy you a Chimay Red, just for You being You. But meet me on the 405 North, and I’ll make you spill your Venti Latte all over yourself, just for You being You. I’ve been threatened, honked at, and flipped off, only to blow an “air kiss” in return. I might as well have the license plate “BMR BOI” (except, predictably/sadly, that plate is taken in Cali; perhaps I’ll get the plate “FNCYPRDA” instead; I digress).

But it’s not my fault. When I first came here from Arizona (after a brief three year stint in Indiana), I just couldn’t handle the speed of driving in SoCal. Everyone drove (and, more or less, acted) like they were in a dramatic ‘Run Scene’ at the end of a Romantic Comedy, and everyone they cut off/endangered should just “understand.” Well, I didn’t understand. But I do now. What I understand, as other SoCals do, is that “missing your exit” could cost you another 45 minutes to an hour just getting back to where you were before you missed the exit. And SoCals (myself included) would rather die in Acute Vehicular Trauma filmed live by Chopper 4 than wait another 45 minutes in traffic.

In other places, like Indiana, when the blinker comes on, it means “I’m thinking about coming into the lane that you’re currently in, you know, when it’s open and convenient to you. How are you? How’s your day going?” In SoCal, when the blinker comes on, it means “Hey Numb Nuts, put the blackberry down and wake the EFF UP. I’m coming through your lane RIGHT NOW. You see, that’s my exit up ahead and I’d rather WRECK YOUR SH*T than miss it. Because I’m more important than you. Couldn’t you tell from my fancy sunglasses and cellphone, Bra?”

So I’m down with driving out here in SoCal, but, unfortunately, what I still can’t get with in SoCal is the SOCAL PARKING ETIQUETTE. Since we have to drive everywhere we go, it only makes sense that we have to PARK everywhere we go. And SoCal parkers make SoCal Drivers look like Indiana drivers by comparison. Like this move – There are 450 open parking spots 20 feet away, but SoCal parkers will get in the middle of the parking lane and throw on the blinker, crowding up the parking lane, to wait to get a parking spot that’s 20 feet closer than the hundreds of available spots, no waiting, at the end of the parking row. An especially awesome move when headed to the gym. And the person pulling out of the spot, more times than not, is a ditz checking his/her blackberry, checking his/her makeup and hair, completely oblivious to the fact that there is one a-hole and 34 potential a-holes behind him, waiting for him/her to GET THE EFF OUT OF THAT PARKING SPOT SO THAT THEY CAN PROCEED WITH THE REST OF THEIR LIVES.

Well, I’d like to tell you more, but the Lakers are receiving their Championship Rings tonight and I don’t want to miss that. Don’t get me wrong, on the inside I HATE the Lakers, but, as a SoCal, I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to Front Run a Championship Team. Bra.