Noise and Stuff
by Fingers Kawalski

Digglers Lounge-Friday, June 23 at the Shanti/Chad
Braun-Also June 23 at Kennealys Pub

Friday night. A night of nastiness and ill-repute
for some, a night of fine music and even finer
beverages for others. Me being of the later sort.
Well, kinda. It was friday after all, and I was
prepared to drink a few ice cold, frosty beverages.
And I sure as hell was ready for a night of talented
musicians. But, then again, I am really bad at time
management, and, to top it all off, there are 2 'good'
shows tonight. Wallet looking thin, I decided to go
for broke anyway.
So. Hmm. I leave the house at around 9:45, and I
head on out to a friend of mines house, lets just call
him James, for he claims interest in joining me for a
night of out-on-the-town style fun. Sounds good to me,
it is always better if you have a partner in crime, so
to speak. Also, he wants me to pick up some fine, St.
Louis variety, cold beer, and a pack of smokes. 'No
prob' I tell him as I reach for my keys and slam down
the phone. So, a slight delay for some alcoholic
primers and some cancer sticks. It's just 7-11, right?
Right around the corner.
2 things. I have lived 1/4 a block from this 7-11
for almost 5 years now, and it seems to get more and
more screwed up every time I walk through the door.
Swiftly I make my way the the barely stocked beer
cooler, happy to see no line in front of me at the
time. With the speed of The Flash, I grab a 12 pack of
Budweiser (Budweiser, the King of beers, a St. Louis
tradition for years, and considered to be one of, if
not the, finest in domestic beers; ask for it by
name...), and blast towards the front counter. Not too
bad, only 2 people in front of me. The first, a
foreigner of some sort, lets just call him a Bosnian
for the sake of the story, is having a difficult time
speaking in anything that even closely resembles
English. And, for some strange reason, the person
behind the counter can not figure out that he wants,
not 1, not 5, but 7 packs of Marlboro full-flavors in
a box. Hell, I thought he was asking for information
on how to put an even louder muffler on his brand new
Pontiac Grand Am. I work my ass off for years, I drive
a 88 Camry, he gets off a boat and drives a new
Pontiac. Thank you Mr. Government!
Anyway, back to my story. So he eventually gets
what he wants and tears out of the lot. Next up is an
older gentleman. Alright, he CAN speak english! But it
seems to be his night to buy lottery tickets. No prob,
I think, as he starts staring longingly into the glass
display case containing 12 varieties of lottery
scratch-offs, various prices and pay-outs. And then I
start to wonder....How many ways can you combine 3, 2,
and 1 dollar tickets to come up with the $30 he has in
his hand? Well, I believe he was collecting important
scientific data to complete his research project on
just that question. After about 15 min., he came up
with a reasonable answer for this night. I hope when
he is done he wins a Nobel Prize for all of his hours
spent in a 7-11.
O.K., so I have my wares, and I am off to see,
uhhh, oh yeah, James. Now there is one thing I knew on
my way to his spot. He sometimes likes to back out of
stuff at the last minuite. But he did sound pretty
into the night. He wanted to talk to some of the guys
from Digglers, and had never heard Chad before, so my
hopes were high. So after walking from door to door at
his house, I finally found magical door number 3, the
one where someone actually answered. Handshakes
followed, and he saw the girlfriend off. Alright, pop
open a cold one, smoke some cigs of various makes and
models, and hit the door. Well, he had to wait for
some guy he hadn't seen in a long time, but he was
going to make him join us. The more the merrier. 'He
should be here any time now.'....10:45, he comes in
the back door, guitar and Marshal amp in hand. Without
saying anything, I knew where this was going. So James
gave him a tour, and he wanted to play some music.
Well, James was torn. He swore he wanted, and needed,
to go, but felt the need to humor this guy more than
anything else. So that was that. I picked up a care
package for a friend of mine and hit the door. 12:05,
I can still catch a bit of both shows.
12:18. I pull up in front of the Shanti, to hear
nothing. Soon, I spot John Dear, St. Louis musical
madman, and he proceeds to tell me that they are about
5 min. into a 30 min. break. He says he is going to
see Chad play. I offer him a ride, and away we go.
12:21. One of the great things about Kennealys is
there is always a great parking spot near. Right in
front this eve. Hop out onto the curb, and make a dash
for the door, just as a good ole' buddy of mine stops
us for a $3 cover charge. John argues, I hold a lovely
woman in a warm friendly hug. She goes in, he runs in,
I hear someone call out my name. I stand just outside
the door as the gracious Kevin McCameron lets me slide
in. Chad starts to play a song by Helliphino, it is
great. The chorus is something like 'I'm not gay, I
just like rainbows...', and it inspires me and John to
join Chad on stage to sing along. I end up paying the
doorman $2, just to help pay for Chads next haircut,
or something, and pay for a beer. I turn to listen to
the next song, and am mobbed by 2 drunken sisters,
both using me as a pole and showering me with words
about how much they care about me and my well being.
That coupled with some hugs and rubbing, and I miss
the song. And it just happens to be the last. What the
hell? It is only 12:40. Man, sometimes life can be so
cruel. Not because of the women, that is great, but a
show missed. Oh well, I'll take the feeling of being a
'hot item' over that anyday.
12:43. Mr. Dear starts yelling at me to get the
girls and drag them to Digglers. I suggest they go,
but they disappear in the madness that is trying to
say hi/bye to everyone, dropping off the previously
mentioned package, and setting up some impromptu
jamming on the next week. But, within moments we are
off to see the great Digglers Lounge.
12:45. John finds some old Van Halen on the radio
and cranks it up, which makes my one speaker cry for
mercy. Man, if I had a new Grand Am it would sound
good. Or maybe if I hit one of those scratch off
lottery tickets.....
12:46. We walk in through the outdoor area, due
to each of us having grabbed a beer from our car. The
music was interesting as always, although the first 14
min. were spent trying to say hello to people over the
controlled mahem that is Digglers. It is always nice
to see some people who you haven't seen in a while,
and this group was no exception. After finally making
our way across the bar to an open area, they stop to
wish some guy, Jeff Harlan, I think it was, a happy
birthday. Fine. Then they require people to come up
and give him some birthday spankings. Great. Then,
they have a 'Fake an Orgasm' contest, although the
girls here couldn't have been as drunk as those at
Kennealys, for they could only get two participants.
And one sounded like a monkey in battle. Then they
announced, guess what, their last song. It was as good
as always, though it lacked any of the wacky vocal
improv that they are, in my mind, so famous for. One
song. That made a total of almost 3 full songs heard
that night.
To close this whole thing up, let me tell you
what I can. Chad sounded good-for the 1 1/2 songs I
heard. Digglers Lounge sounded good-for the 1 1/2
songs I heard. Beer is really expensive at Soulard
bars, for the most part. It always helps to know the
doorman. Don't trust that one friend to follow through
on everything. Don't leave John Dear alone in your car
with the keys (he tried to drive off, yet just burned
the clutch up a bit instead). And, oh yeah, learn time
management. Then teach it to me.