The Magical Weekend

And a Magical Weekend it was. I have had some awesome party packed, light strobin, alchohol injected, epiphany-reaching weekends these past few months...but this Ace of a weekend takes the Cake.

The Cro from Tampa bumped up to ATL Thursday night, following my kickball team's glorious W that got us into the all-conference kickball tournament that in no way, shape, or form would Shad and I miss, following an STS9 run....woops.

To all those who are thinking about flying to come see me, I wouldnt recommend it. I must be emitting some jaded aura that hovers over Atlanta-Harsfield International Airport, because the past three weekends in a row my buddies have all gotten delayed HOURS coming to see me. I don't know what I have to do to shake this kinda-fuck-up-our-plans syndrome being casted down from the airplane gods...shamanic intervention? Fasting for two weeks? Human Sacrifice? I dont know but they better stop fucking with me.

So, The Cro and I scoop up Skeechy-Cheeks from Ohio at the airport around 10PM, and hop skip away to see Papadosio at the 5 spot in Little 5 for a pre STS9 gathering. This is the packedest (I dont think thats a word?) I had ever seen my favorite little hole in the wall venue. The experimental, rootsy fusion of electronica, bombastic bass plucking, and moving (sometimes haunting, sometimes epic) keyboard manipulation brought the house down and summoned at least one more die-hard Papa-promoting follower to their ranks. The concert was great, but you could almost feel that everyone was holding back, excited and anxious, mentally preparing ourselves for the ensuing ragefest of a weekend. Bartender, double bourbon diet to quiet down these fluttering butterflies in my tummy? Thank you sir, goodnight and godspeed.

Friday - I was not able to join my craziness-conducive counterparts for the first night of STS9, so ultimatly, the concert sucked. They were thinking about cancelling the concert, but being so modest and understanding, I replied with a "play on brother, play on;)" Alternatly, TimmyJ was able to participate in his first friend-wedding. All the groomsmen positions were taken, but I was a last minute pickup by the Quinn/Nicole Fisher squad to fill the position of "Reception RageMaestro" to ensure booties were boogyin', feet were flashdancin, and stankylegs were..stankin' (in a good way...it smells funky when you have 75 passionate stanky-leggers grinding their rubber heels against marble floors in unison for a mere 3.5 mins..my B). Took the after party to the W, freaked it out in the VIP, and courtesy cabbed home. Not bad for the first friend-wedding, congrats and your welcome QNF. The Reception Ragemaestro is not a position for the light-hearted or heavy-footed, so feel free to reach out for advice...the memories of the wedding are resting on your shoulders...

SATURDAY - After planning how we were going to get Shad onto one of the two Disco Party Busses at Hippie Heaven, we decided to just bring him, what were they going to say, get a cab back from Conyers to ATL? Maybe, but not likely. So Skeetchy McSceecherson, The Cro, Shad, and our Charleston gypsies hopped in the Exploder for a weekend that we will go down in herstory (I've been trying to be more politically correct lately). We trekked about 30 miles through backroads, snaking out of ATL and landed at well, I forgot whose house it was, but from here on out it is dubbed Hippie Heaven. The Huemungo house was in the distance after we drove up the quartermile of a driveway, with a Barn...with horses by the name of Rebel and such, this is gonna be a good day.

For fourty bucks we got a place on the party bus to and from Heaven, 4 kegs, and afterparty with a few bands and DJ, fully decked out with light and sound technician, and the helicopter pad acting as the dance stage....yeah helicopter pad. Thanking the Universe that I had decided to buy the big gulp water bottle, I proceeded to fill up my first 24 ounces to freedom. After our funny conversation of "Hey, can we add another person to the party bus?"..."No we have no more room." (Input Frantic look on our faces as Rashad is already there) "Well, he is right here....sooo" "Ok thats cool then, forty bux please" No problema amiga, muchas gracias. See! Not only am I focusing on being more politically correct, I am also speaking spanish randomly...you know, bi-lingual is in, it's like having a tan, or a million-bucks....it just helps guys thats all.

The first bus was jam-packed and rocking back and forth, so we scooted to the second, which could not be more opposite...for the time being. Our driver was a Dale Earnhart (RIP #8) lookalike with a cowboy hat, sweet shades, and a ponytail. The inside of the bus looked like a run-down motel 6 from the 80's, mirrors running on the roof, uphostery on the walls and floors, and it was Awesome. As the overflow from bus #1 started making their appearances on el autobus numero dos (yep,there it is again) the party got kicked up 3 notches. Three because the music came on, more alchohol rolled in, and the bus got moving, lets do this.

I won't explain much on the bus because I am going to post some videos that explain it all, but it was OUT OF CONTROL. After 15 minutes, we managed to jimmy open every emergency exit, window, and import (beer) we could find and the game was on. STS9 bumping in the speakers, ecstatic energy eroding my ear drums, pure happiness being shared with driver-bys on the highway with a big hello and "Come on the PartyBus....WOOOOOOO." I was feeling damn sexy and in complete control with my $5.00 Road Warrior sunglasses I picked up at the local quiktrip until...BOOOOM! Ohh shit, well I know none of these kids have a gun, half of them would'nt know how to work it...so that means only one thing, tire popage. Are you serious? Haha the look on half of these partypeople's faces was pure fear, instigated by visions of missing the concert, half-tripped out hippies running across the interstate like a tie-die band of wild indians, and bladder-busting boys and girls taking off to the woods to unload. However, the busdriver, understanding of the position he was in to make a power move, said fuck it and kept driving...NOW TURN IT UP!

I will never do will call again for big concerts, fuck the 15$ in surcharges we are forced to pay through ticketmaster (More on that in a later blog, what is up with all these "convenience charges and "Standard Charges"? Convenience is costing too much...), its a hell of a lot better than waiting 45 mins by yourself in line while you see your group frolicking into the entrance like a scene from Wizard of Oz down the yellow-brick road. After cutting in line, making it through the gate and grabbin a few brews, the day and night flowed together like Big L and Jay Z in their historical 7 minute freestyle...seamlessly. Reuniting with old-friends from Raindance Festival, recruiting countless new ones, and alternating sets between the lawn and Pit kept everything fresh and new. From meeting a guy with shoes made out of tennis balls, being in the front row for one of my all-time favs bassnectar, and jumpin and jivin to the sweet sounds and lightshow of STS9 the event was once again, unforgettable.

As the show writes to a close, we make a few wrong turns and just make it on the partybus. This trip is a little different then the ride there. Everyone is pooped, no seats available, so I got to get my monkey arms on and hang the whole 45 mins back to Hippie Heaven. Better than driving though, anyday. When we arrive the kegs are getting tapped once again, light/sound techs are finishing up, and everyone gets mentally prepared for the next event that will be even crazier than the busride and concert.

Everywhere you look, you see shadows scattered around the barn, the lawn, the pond/lake, and the helicopter pad. Some of these shadows never leave their hiding places, absolutly content with where they are, some dont come out because they got lost somewhere in the enless acres of the H.H property. The Crew and I dabbled in the shadows to and from the barn, but ended up adding more buddies to my Facebook account down by the "stage." I was kicking it with DJ ____ and found out it was his first show, of course I would show my support in glowing-groupie fashion. The band, I dont remember much of, but we all were raging until about 2-3 AM when the neighbors put in noise complaints (fact: The closest neighbor was a mile away). Yeah, we were blowing it out!

Like zombies from Resident Evil (See how times change, no more Night Of the Living Dead analogies, gotta stay fresh for the kiddies) we all turned our attention and crawled towards the warmth and beauty of the bonfire we saw beyond the barn. Strangers- now best friends joined around the fire to reflect upon the rising sun of the next morning in the distance. But The Cro and I were not finished, there was more beer to be drunk!

The sun was now up, 7AM and there are still about 25 straglers/warriors still raging and we decided it would be a good idea to make a trip out to the floating dock in the middle of the pond to see how the property looked from there. I mistook the canoe for a rowboat and pounced in like a newborn kitten, but my nimble legs were not on the same page and I took a flip into the water. No harm done, little cold, and all electronic devices were in the side of my pocket that didn't get wet. But as William Wallace would have never backed down from the English and retreat, TimmyJ would not let a little water get in his way of nautical victory(It's the scottish in me)! I swear I never had experienced such a time where reality and a Dream were woven so tightly together that I could do nothing but laugh in amazement. Above, you can see a pirate overboard, he was not as lucky as myself, but he made it! We enjoyed some toasts and moments of enlightenment and paddled back to the car where Shad and SkeechieCheeks had been napping for hours and saluted Hippie Heaven for all the Wonderfullness that had exuded from that happy happy place.

One more twist. On our way back to Atlanta, I thought it would be hilarious to continue down to Tampa while Shad was asleep and surprise him when he had risen. After about 3.5 hours, Shad awoke with a look of bewilderment, confusion, and glazed eyes to see that we were not in Kansas or Georgia anymore. Surprise, going to Tampa woop woop!!! The joke was awesome, but after 5 mins I passed out and woke up pulling into The Cro's homestead. Well, welcome to Tampa. Next two days consisted of recovery, laughs, coming down from Hippie Heaven, and renting a car at Tampa Airport for our ride home. And that my friends, was a Magical Weekend...

Lessons Learned: Not much this time, except always broaden your network and relationships to a network where no matter where you are, you will have a helping hand to show you a good time, or to lift you out of a potentially problematic situation. Instead of waiting for someone else to introduce themselves, or the miraculous drop a bunch of papers (my favorite cheezy chick flick move that never happens in real life)/keg cups on the ground, kneel to pick them up, and find yourself locked in a gaze with your dream fairy, your soon to be love of your life... ok I'll stop...step up ,throw out a hand and a smile and all-good will follow...most of the time ;)

I Got Scammed

Well boys and girls, the Shiester got Sheisted, the Master got Mastered, the Schemer got schemed, and the Karma Police are rounding up their troops as we speak. I never thought I would be scammed, as I pride myself in being able to read people, red flags pop up anytime anything too sketchy starts to occur, and the little siren in my head starts shrieking "Abort, Abort" and off I go. Not this time friends, Tim got rocked for $200 while the little voice in my head was taking a nappie-nap. Let me at least get this message out in case it happens to you.

So I am sitting at the drive-thru Wachovia the other day, still gathering my head from the weekend (this is a big disclaimer I am adding to alleviate the pissed-offness that followed), and these girls pull up to me in a Caddie Escalade with the biggest smiles (I know this sounds so stupid already) and scream, "Hey, do you want an entertainment system for your living room?" I reply , "uhhh, what? pull into the parking lot I'll see whats up". The scam ensues:

So these girls are all giddy and tell me that they deliver these entertainment systems to people's houses and for some reason, they looked at their inventory and saw they had two extra systems for delivery with no order. They showed me the warranty slips, the MSRP on the Paramax 6-Speaker 1000 Watt System ($2100), the delivery papers and the systems checked out. They made sure to tell me that they had to get back to work in 15 mins, but was trying to "spread good karma" and hook somebody up with them if they could get a little "Margarita Money." They also had Sound Advice shirts on, exchanged numbers, and I threw them $200. Let me pause for a second and let you know these girls were not even attractive, in case you thought Tim got Mind-fucked by a few lovely hustlers. To top it off, I told them I wanted the other system that was bigger, and they said "no, we are going to keep that one for ourselves, we are trying to make some real money!" Bitches...

I go off on my merry way, thinking I'll at LEAST be able to sell them for $500 and have a quick $300 come-up. As I start googling this set of brand new speakers, I see scam-alerts popping up, sob stories of befuddled maidens who spend $1,000 on bullshit plastic and wiring for their disapponted husbands. This doesnt feel good. I go on Craigslist to put them up and within 5 minutes it was flagged and the post taken down....Yep, Tim just got scammed. I tried the speakers out and they have about 200 watts instead of 1000 to run 6 speakers, which equates to sub-par audio quality at best.

Lessons Learned: Remember when your Mom told you if something seems too good to be true, then it usually is? Yeah, touche Mom, touche. It's not the money that pisses me off, it's the fact I let these stereo sluts scam me, without me even thinking it was sketch. I brush it off, as I just made $300 off of free furniture I acquired, but I hope the Karma Kings throw down the hammer on these "karma-spreading" snakes. This my friends is NOT the ideal way to make money on the road as it was very risky, yet made sense to my ego and entreprneurial spirit. Hey, we move on, and it only makes you smarter right? I'm glad I'm getting these lessons learned out of the way before I hit the road Sept. 9!!!! Stay tuned for Trip Itinerary

Hip-Hop Hygenist, Rooftops, and Taxi-Cab Historians

It only took 13 months for A friend to make a trip to come down and see ol' Timmy Boy in Atlanta...yeah I have the best friends I know. The back-breaking work week of charting out my route to the west, intense facebook poking, and the ever-complicated decision of what type of frozen meat Tuscan Tim will be marinating for dindin left me as excited to see one of my best buddies from home as a pubescent boy seeing Pammie Anderson's balloons for the first time (yeah Dad, im sorry, I deleted the history when I was 11 to cover my tracks).

Despite his connecting flight clusterfuck of a trek up and down the east coast trying to get from DC to ATL, I managed to scoop him up right before the Snoop Dogg/Slightly Stoopid (Stephen Marley, Mickey Avalon guests) Blazed and Confused Tour. Dodging rush-hour traffic like Bill Bubba Clinton dodged the Vietnam draft, we pulled in right on time...to take a pee, a glorious geyser at that. We meet a dentist and a nasalspray hustling medical sales rep next to us and trade pee-watchout posts in the parking lot. After downing some brews, a few cigarettes, and picking through the nasal-spray wielding rep's endless bag of snacks, and finding out that a company really makes Scoobie-snacks (they are even in the shape of a bone, so cool), we were off skipping to the show (fortunatly, didn't see anyone pee or poo themselves before the show started).

Snoop Dogg Show Ensues....(click here for video)

I saw Snoop at Bonnaroo a few months ago and thought he killed it then, but he commited genocide at the Masquerade on Thursday. Those of you doubting me now, especially those who have or have not seen any rap shows, Snoop is his own breed. With a four piece band backing him up, a few of his throwback roaddogs (Kurupt), and mixing in everything from "Blame it on the a-aaaa-aa-aa-aalcohol babbby", to "Next Episode", to "Jump Around", he keeps the crowd engaged, screaming, and chanting Snooooooop DAAAAAAWWG for hours to come. Be sure to check out the pics/vids here. One of the most memorable/hilarious jams of the night was when Snoop pulled Moses' Ol' Testament maneuver and divided the sea of raging listeners into "East Coast" and "West Coast" and would point to whatever side to yell the loudest to "rep their coast." Well seeing as I was in the "East", we were in Atlanta (home of dirty south rap...far from "east" and "west" stereotypical rap anyway), and about 92% of the crowd was white and looked like they were trying to do cat's cradle to make their finders spell a W.....the East ran the show. It was a glimpse of triumph, but culminated into everyone throwing up a peace sign...well played Snoop.

At intermission, drunk and sweaty already, we started to do the only thing we know to do when the blackout starts to creep in....freestyle with randos'. Best friend, TimmyJ, and Shad begin to start kicken rhymes about the show, goofy tripped out hippies we see, and McGuiver (the only time your freestyle is ever legit). Who comes tearing through the crowd to deliver an epic throwdown of how it is living on the mean streets of gingivitis and cavities? The dentist we met from the parking lot! I gotta tell you, the thirty something year old was throwing out "You gotta use crest to keep em clean and white..." etc, had us dying/thoroughly impressed at the same time. You never get too old to vibe, show some humility, and make new friends, gotta love it. Check out a glimpse of the retainer-rockin rhymer.

Slightly Stoopid was, well Slightly Stoopid. Great reggae, Stephen Marley came out to help add some, how you sayyyy "authenticity" to the movement, and they/we came away with a successful show.

Recently, especially with the ensuing "aloha" from Atl around the corner, Shad and I have been making it a point to take the afterparty to the roof of our complex. We found out you could easily climb the roof to a landing pad at the very top of the building and hang out on a safe/yet still mildly sketchy, railed in walkway. Reminiscing on old times, adventures to come, and having an eagly eye view of the Buckhead, Midtown, and Downtown is a great way to wrap the night up with close friends (as long as you dont mysteriously slit your hand open and wake up to get 7 stiches....nameless third roommate). After singing some "Rebelution - Safe and Sound" communily at the top of our lungs, we decided it was "time to go to couch" (I figure i'll be politically correct, for it's not fair to say bed since one of my roommates is without one..by choice) , right before we almost set the kitchen on fire from a totino's pizza...textbook, but we had an eye on it ;)

One aside I would like to make before I put this puppy to bed is how after one cab ride with the coolest driver I have ever met, I learned more about Atlanta in one hour then I have my entire 13 month tenure. This guy was from NY, moved here when he was 18, and has seen the city go through it's ups, downs, twists, and turns throughout the last 15 years. We all clicked and after an hour of sitting in the parking lot of the venue we left our cars at the night before, shooting the shit, we ever so eloquently summed the city up with these points:

• 8-1 Girl to Guy ratio. Girls just want you to come and ....ohh my god guys, actually talk to them. Play it smooth, treat her like a lady, be confident, dont give her too much attention, and she might be buying you a drink at the end of the night. This is a city full of parents who lived in the city, moved to the burbs, and now the kids want to come back in, and the parents don't like little Sally going out with her girlfriends in Buckhead who might get into "trouble"(meeting a cunning young man who will wine, dine, and bring her to the dark side...sometimes litterally hahha). But wining and dining does not have to go far, a lot of these women don't want the baggage, their big girls who want to go on a date here and there, but can leave it at that. This feeds into the next point:


• It is cheap as hell to live in ATL....these 1 million dollar homes, would go for a quarter of that price up in DC/NY/LA...but here you can make 30-40k and live (or appear to others) that you live a millionaire lifestyle. For example, this past weekend I saw two guys pull up with their pimped out rangerover, system blazing, indiglo lights, and roll into the Publix Coinstar...with a jar full of nickels and dimes. Hmm, frugal or hood-rich...you be the judge, but either way perception is everything...and that's why ATL has been known as the "City of Facades." This does not have to be derogatory, but ATL is a non-threating neighborhood where you can set up a retail shop, an online marketing firm, make something out of yourself, and not break the bank to do it. I can definitly see myself returning one day.


• Atlanta - The City of Revolving Doors - Have you ever noticed why Atlanta does not have a large sports following? Yeah some die-hard Vick-infused Falcons fans and Chipper Jones die hards are around...but NOTHING like other cities- comparable to the size of ATL. This is because ATL's economy is sparked by saturation of surrounding colleges. Georgia Tech, Georgia State, Emory, Morehouse, Clark University, are all downtown, Kennesaw, UGA, Georgia Southern (I know I missed some) all within 45 mins-a few hours...then you look at the southeast USC, Clemson, UT...Atlanta is a very attractive city to live in for young professionals. Many come to study, then leave, many leave for school, then return to downtown. Besides the school influx, people who are from Atlanta sometimes come here for school, then go back to their own private interests out in the burbs where they hail from. So the net-net is that Atlanta is a metropolis that always has new/old blood coming and going, but never does it let its revolving door hit you on your way out. Because of this reason, Atlanta has also been knows as the "City for Fugitives", you get in some trouble? Come to ATL and it will be hard to put a finger on you.


• Atlanta's explosion started with it's railroads and a depot for goods/materials that were being imported from Savannah and the Chattahoochie river. The city grew, developed, or lack their of and before you know it you have a sprawling metro...with no metro, horrible public transportation, and roads that change their name every 8 blocks. Folks with money wanted to live downtown, then migrate out, naturally. However after the recent demolition of all the "bad parts", subsidized housing rezoning, and the demand of new money (new condos..too many) wanting to move downtown, all the "lower echelon of society" is getting pushed out to the burbs...just who the Money was trying to get away from. Now the cycle is being reversed, but soon, Money will have "no place to go"...what to do? Maybe this is what needs to happen to smack the south up against it's sometimes "color-aware" mindsets and live together like the rest of the country. The signs are already clear where you have million dollar homes on one block, and the ghet' on the next street...Atlanta needs some guidance, but no one wants to address the direction of the city...if it ain't broke dont fix it...until it blows up in your face. Should be interesting...
  

Lessons Learned: It doesnt matter how long best friends are away from each other, you pick up right where you left off...and make sure to leave a cliffhanger when they finally leave for next time! Always be genuine and act like you have known them forever. I have really started to understand why I attract so many positive vibes and gel with folks no matter how old, what profession, or where they grew up. Sincerity and generosity can lead you to meeting crazy hip-hip hygenist, mental snapshots on a roof, and a history class from the eyes and ears of a veteran taxi-driver. Want to understand a city? Talk to a bartender or cabdriver they will have the real insight, from the streets up to the media...give them a chance, an open mind, who knows what you'll find out!