Yeah... I Saw Bon Jovi

Did you know Jon Bon Jovi is still alive? Yeah, that's what I said!

Not only is he alive, but the king of hair bands managed to sell out Arco Arena. I know, right?!

Although I will admit that I helped that happen... Yeah, I was there. And, for the most part, I enjoyed myself. I was completely unaware that they had written anything beyond 1986's Slippery When Wet (which, by the way, inspired the title of 2001's classic high school student-filmed crime drama). I was very much made aware of that fact during this show though. Very much made aware.

They certainly played some of the classics, and during those moments, the show was awesome. They hit You Gave Love a Bad Name on the second or third song, and that was money. Good stuff. But it was a long while before we got any more of the good stuff.

I recognized some songs here and there... Bad Medicine was a notable high moment... but then Richie Sambora came out to play one of his solo songs. Not cool. Then they played half an hour of acoustic stuff out on a bridge in the middle of the crowd. Fantastic if you had the $250 for a floor ticket. If not, it was pretty lame, mostly because nobody knew what any of the songs were.

It wasn't until the encore that they finally played Dead or Alive (that crabbing show theme song) and Livin' on a Prayer. Which, in all fairness, were pretty awesome. But damnit, you know that these people are only here to hear you play the classics, so knock it off with all the new crap. They didn't even play that Young Guns song. Come on, Jon. Come on.

A good show... and props to them for being one of the few hair bands that survived into the modern age and can still sell out an arena... but people are only here to get the classics live. Play the good stuff, damnit. Come on.

Fightin' the Man

Ah, to be in college again. The friends, the parties... It's a special time in a young person's life. And what's a good college experience without some interaction with cops in riot gear? It was a tradition set forth by our forefathers in the 60's, and every college student's right of passage! That tradition remains strong today... or at least it did yesterday, at college campuses around the great (and bankrupt) state of California!

Protesting a 30% fee hike to state schools, college students put down their daily meals of raman and Pabst and hit the streets to display their outrage at this outrage. I, too, put down my raman and Pabst to jump into action, as UC Davis students marched towards a police line in an attempt to close down I-80.

The police weren't about to let them march onto a freeway during rush hour... which seemed shocking to many students. So the cops stood their line, pushing came to shoving, and the pepper balls and batons started flying. Take that, ya hippies!

Students claimed the violence was unprovoked. One was noted as saying they could have "diverted traffic to another route around the students" rather than keep them from climbing onto the freeway. Ah, to be in college again!

As the fun and games were commencing, a local newspaper fellow and I started to cough uncontrollably as we stood a good 50 yards back from the police line.

"Hoo-wee", I proclaimed. "What was that about?"
"Looks like the pepper balls are flying," he said, between coughing fits.

Wow, nothing brings back memories like the smell of pepper spray and tear gas! Last time I smelled that, I was a freshman in Eugene... the ol' Ferry Street Riot of '02! Basically, an entire apartment complex threw a party, which spilled out into the parking garage, which spilled out into the streets, which the local police didn't take to kindly to. They set up a line of cops in riot gear a few blocks down... which just provoked the drunken mob to throw bottles and start fires in the streets. The tear gas and rubber bullets flew, and the drunkards dispersed. I may or may not have wandered through the scene. I believe it was the same year they decided to stop having football games at night unless they were nationally televised in order to cut back on the drunken numbskullery that was becoming synonymous with the university (as if Animal House didn't already scar it for life).

Of course, none of this compares to the protests and riots going on at colleges in the 70's. What, you don't remember those days? Well, you need to educate yourself by watching my Emmy winning (2005 Student Award, bitch!) short documentary on the topic. Until the national guard gets involved, you kids ain't got nothin'.

Dirty Dino

I've become a regular at the local Target store, as I am adamently opposed to shopping at Wal-Mart... no matter how many smiley faces they put on their logos. But heck, in this economy, who can afford to go to white collar stores like Safeway and Rite-Aid? Not anybody in this business, I tell you.

So I'm wandering the aisles, soaking in the savings, when I hear a familiar song playing from around the corner. One that discusses the finer points of apple bottom jeans, boots with fir and someone that goes by the name of Shawty. At first I paid no attention, until an older woman and a toddler caught my eye at the end of the aisle. That music couldn't be coming from them, could it? No way, that's no music for a child!

Indeed it was originating from the duo, who were very much amused by the following. Appropriate for children? You be the judge.

Don't parents worry about giving their kids stuff like these days? When I was a kid, I couldn't even watch Beavis and Butt-Head.

Since I'm not a parent, I bought four of those dirty dinos and threw a most bizarre dance party in my apartment. Don't judge how I live.

Olympic Gold

There's nothing that can bring the world together quite like the Olympic Games, where countries square off to prove who's the goddamn best. And who's the best at claiming to be the best? USA! USA!

Just before the games, Photocalypse cameras caught up with local snowboarder Elena Hight, a member of the Team USA (yeah, THAT Team USA) halfpipe crew.

In the end, the talented shredder failed to score a medal. Unfortunate... but gold medals can be bought and sold on the internet with ease these days. Now a gold beta tape... there's something to be proud of.

We'll try to get a ribbon made up so she can wear it around her neck with pride. Perhaps he can tag along as a good luck charm for 2014! USA! USA!

The Life of a Wino

Times have been a little slow round the ol 'pocalypse ranch lately, which usually means that things have been too busy to waste time tappin' away at words that no one's gonna read. Being busy is a good thing though... not necessarily for a blog, but so it goes.

Adventuring has been happening, however, even though the winter months tend to be the slow season. This weekend, I decided to classy it up a bit with a trip to the big city with my better half.

On Saturday, we hit up the annual San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition at Fort Mason. I don't know if you've ever been to one of these, but it's gotta be any wino's vision of heaven.

From 2-5 pm, it's a full-on free-for-all with the best wineries on the West Coast. There must have been hundreds of bottles to sample (and re-sample). This is the kind of festival that really gives you a reason to celebrate.

Now as for myself, I've never been an expert in the world of wine. I couldn't tell much of a difference between a $2.50 bottle of Rite Aid wine and a $35 bottle of Francis Ford Coppola wine (doesn't that guy make movies anymore... or did he die?). That's not to say I can't appreciate a good bottle of wine... it's just that my wine purchasing is generally directed by how interesting or hilarious the label on the bottle is. I've come to learn that this isn't generally the best plan of action, and here's my theory as to why: If your wine sucks, but it has a funny name, stupid people will buy it anyway. I'm not proud to count myself among that demographic, but what can ya do. I'm a sucker for a picture of a dog drinking booze (or a "booze hound"... damn, I should open a winery!).

Here's a few examples... there was Big Dog, which somebody explained to me was owned by the same company that makes those Big Dog t-shirts that fat guys wear.

I don't know if that's true, but I must say that the wine actually tasted like the smell of one of those outlet stores. You know, kind of a leathery, new jacket smell. Maybe fat guys dig it, but I wasn't a fan.

I also came across the Side Job, which sounds enough like some sort of dirty sexual thing that it made me a bit uneasy.


I don't know what goes on in the "Side Job Cellars," but I can only assume it's something along the lines of that Kubrick movie... I think it was called Tom Cruise Goes to an Orgy. Wine wasn't bad though.

So, all in all, a fine adventure. Towards the end of the event, you could tell that the sold-out crowd was getting a little sloppy, as people were constantly bumping into each other and pushing in to get their last serving. Ah, the life of a lush. AKA a wino.

Urijah's Back in Sac

Local cage fighting celebrity Urijah Faber is back in his hometown and lookin' to kick some ass this Sunday at Arco Arena!

But first... all the fighters were to meet up at Urijah's gym to spit some game and talk their opponent into a blood-thirsty frenzy! Oh, this match-up is gonna be one for the ages! Gonna kill his wife and eat his children!! Aaah!

Well... not quite. Something that's always impressed me about this sport is that even though these guys are gonna beat the ever-loving-hell out of each other, they are totally civil and respectful to one another. They're shaking hands, laughing, goofing around with one another... what the hell is going on? Am I the only one that remembers how boxing used to be? Those two were gonna kill each other! It was gonna be murder and mayhem!

Well, that's how boxing was, and perhaps that's why it's no longer much of a commercial draw. To be honest, I was never a boxing fan or much of a mixed martial arts fan. That is, until a year or two back when I was sent to Arco to interview Faber before his match with Jens Pulver, along with a handful of other WEC contenders.

I had no idea what I was doing or who any of these people were, but I did what I could. Since I'd met all the contenders, I watched the fight on tv... and it was pretty cool. After that, I knew a few names and would watch whenever I came across one of 'em fighting.

So, some time later, here I am again with these guys, who I now recognize... at least a little bit. I had watched Urijah fight a few more times, and I stroll past his gym in downtown Sacramento all the time, plus I occasionally drink one of his No Fear energy drinks. So this time around, I kinda thought it was pretty cool to be on the mat with him while he warmed up.

Not only that, but Mike Brown, the dude that beat him last time he fought in town, came strolling into his gym.

They beat the hell out of each other (twice), yet both were totally relaxed and laughing the whole time they were there. Weren't either of them gonna eat some children? What the hell?

I will say local boy Faber is a cool guy. Very easy-going and approachable, even though he has every right to be a total douchebag. To prove it, he even spent some time training with another local celebrity you might recognize...

I wouldn't call myself a fan of cage fighting, but any time I see this guy going at it, I'm sure to stop and watch because it's always an impressive feat of athleticism and sportsmanship. Plus he beats the hell outta people. I'll be watching this Sunday on Vs., and I encourage you to do the same.

The Great Rose Bowl Adventure

If we take a trip back a few weeks, we'll recall a big win over Oregon State at the Civil War, a game that I had originally planned on attending. However, as the Ducks climbed in the rankings, I realized that they just might make it to the big game. I hated to miss out on the biggest civil war ever, but it was a gamble that I had to take. And I did. And it worked.

As the game ticked to a close, we (as in everybody) jumped into action in search of a pair of tickets. While Pops (a fellow Oregon alumni... yes, I grew up a fan) got on the horn, I ran down to the nearest candy store, as I had heard that tickets had been hidden inside five Wonka bars.

Long story short, Pops was able to call out some favors at the law school and managed to score us a pair of tickets. (It went something like this.)

So it was on, and here's how it went... You could call it Planes, Trains and Automobiles (or PT&A, as it's known in my house) Part II.

Unlike in previous years, this New Years Eve was spent in the safety and solitude of the parents' home. Unfortunate, as that night usually makes for some fine adventure tails, but the following day brought with it early morning demands, so it was a necessary sacrifice.

8 AM: We left for the Oakland Airport, hopping a flight to Long Beach.

11:15: Arrived at Long Beach Airport, hustled to a car rental joint, and saddled up in a Dodge Caliber. We hit I-710 into the heart of LA.

11:50: Parked at Union Station, where we climbed aboard the lightrail train, heading for Pasadena. Oregon train riders clearly outnumbered Ohio State train riders. So far, so good.

12:15: Arrived at the Memorial stop on the train line. Hearded through Pasadena for a good half-mile or so before arriving at the shuttles to the Rose Bowl.

12:35: On a bus now, taking the long way into the stadium. Old pals are texting, wondering where we are. Their drinking had begun.

12:55: Arrive at the Rose Bowl!

1:20: Finally get through the gates. Who the hell designed this place?

1:55: Finally get to our seats. The line to get into the tunnel was ugly and held up because they "couldn't have too many people going into the tunnel at once". Again... who the hell designed this place? 96,000 seats, you'd think there'd be an easier way to get in. Seriously.

2:00: Kickoff!!!

To my surprise, the plan actually worked flawlessly. We made it from Oakland to Pasadena in perfect time. I was tired, hungry and in need of a beer, but damnit, we were at the Rose Bowl!!

I managed to meet up with a few old pals who made the trip as well, a pair of which I worked with in New Zealand some years ago. One was a Duck, the other a Buckeye. In discussing the crowd, we agreed that there were indeed more Ohio State fans in attendance, but this is because there is nothing else to do in Ohio other than watch football. The Buckeye pal also admitted that Oregon girls are way hotter than Ohio State girls. The recognition was acknowledged and appreciated.

So, it was a good game for the most part. A few unfortunate errors cost the Ducks the game, and that's sad. But with so many returning starters, and considering that it's the coach's freshman year, it's not crazy to think that we might get another shot at it again next year. But I still love my Ducks, and am proud of their season (especially because they beat the hell out of both USC and Cal! Woo hoo!).

So... end of the game, we had to do it all in reverse... Bus, train, car, and finally the plane... which was delayed two hours. Walking around the airport, people kept giving me sad looks and shaking their heads in mourning (I was still wearing my Oregon attire). A lot of people were happy to see them at the Rose Bowl... or at least to see anyone but USC there. We got back home at 11:30 that night. It was a long-ass day with some unfortunate results, but it made for a fine adventure, and I'm proud to say that I was in attendance. Not a bad way to start the year.

Oh, and our chicks are still way hotter. That's something that Ohio State can never take away from us.