Our Last Gig: Shakedown San Diego
November 12, 2010
It’s with happy hearts and twinkling eyes that we journey South toward the new Shakedown in San Diego.
The trusty road crew has gone ahead, so we have time to meander along the darkening coastline.
Radio plays a Clash song, and cupped hands are held out of open windows to float along the jetstream: Flesh colored birds rushing home to the nest, bellies filled with crickets to be regurgitated into the mouths of the next generation.
First stop is The Fish Joint in Oceanside, where the crew knows their audience, brother!
The Misfits’ Walk Among Us blasts out of the speakers on a continuous loop as we fall upon dish after amazing dish.
It’s Danzig’s pleading moan that drives us to consume one nigiri jewel after another…….
We thank our gracious hosts for the lovely food and hospitality and waddle back out to the ride.
Sated on rice, delicious sea creatures and countless missles of Sapporo, we squeeze behind the steering wheel and make our way down to the club.
The Shakedown is the new hep joint down yonder, and for good reason!
Dead Ted started things off with a bang, booking Fear, DI, Agent O, etc within the first couple weeks, leaving all the other San Diego clubs scrambling to book their venues with Whitesnake cover bands and puppet acts!
Now yer talkin Punk Rock club bub!
This joint serves a fine selection of Malt Liquors, giant cannisters of PBR, and the usual assorted brown liquids that make for a funny night!
Plus, these people treat the bands like champs, providing booze, snacks, not to mention swanky sleeping arrangements for the fellas to steal a quick pre-show snuggle!
Our kind of crowd!!
We take to the stage and, Bonus! they play a steady stream of Korean slasher Porn behind you while yer playin!
What, have these guys been eavesdropping on our dreams or somethin’ ??
A few techinical problems, but that’s why we pay such a handsome salary to Tbone, sound/light/stage technician extraordinaire!
But here’s where things quickly went strange:
Dawn breaks clear on Saturday morning.
The incessant bark of the seagull, the jackhammer knock of the Ecuadoran maid.
These are the things that bring us out of a sweet sleep, only to confront what has been witnessed.
We drive a few listless miles North, each of us trying to grasp how to explain this to the wives and kids back home.
We have looked directly into the eyes of the demon clown…and he was angry!
Nothing a quick stop at Capn’ Keno’s in Carlsbad won’t fix!
We gulp Bloody Marys in the feeble hope they will erase the pictures that have been burned onto retina and cornea alike!
Men have returned from wars with a distant, gray look in their eyes.
They have witnessed the unspeakable, and yet these hardy men go on to lead productive lives. Am i right?
So with country gravy greased fingers, we make pinky promises to never speak of the night again.
That goes for you too.