Enuffs Z'nuff

Brother Matt F. passed along two interesting lynx, one of which may portend bad things for my beloved (though sometimes behated) hometown.

Missoula's new exclusive bar

The first is a news item about a new exclusive members-only bar that will inhabit the former Jay's Upstairs space. I can't even bring myself to believe that there's a market for this sort of thing, but if there is, it augurs bad things for all parties concerned. Missoula has slowly been getting yuppified for the past 15 years at least, but (at least last I checked) it's nowheres near getting the full-on Land's End facial that Bozeman and Whitefish have been subjected to (or subjected themselves to, as the case may likely be). And certainly not to the point where it would support a private exclusive bar. Then again, my dad tells me that there's a private ski area in Montana now, so maybe I'm wrong, maybe this is the way the winds are blowing in Big Sky country...

But the more disturbing facet of this is: god-diggity-damn, there are few activities that I can imagine that sound as unfulfilling as hanging out in a members-only bar. Drinking Missoula-style is all about disorder, spontaneous and stochastic acts of whimsy and ribaldry. Running into the TA from your Linear Algebra class and drunkenly petitioning for a retake of the midterm. Staring creepily across the room at people while you pour beer down your pants. Trying to cajole the bartender to put in your Jon Spencer Blues Explosion tape. Stuff like that. Certainly not sitting in a private bar congratulating yourself for being able to sit in a private bar. I don't know, dude; it just sounds miserable, and were I a splendidly wealthy chap, this would be among the last things I would want to spend my money on.

Then there's this: video footage of a Zeke show in Missoula in 1995, in which yours truly saunters across the screen a couple times (although I don't think I would have recognized that as me if Matt hadn't pointed it out). I remember this show, specifically walking into the bathroom and seeing the drummer (Donny Paycheck?) sitting leisurely on the terlet in the doorless stall while the other three were onstage waiting for him. I remember how the main guy seemed like a surly junkie. However, I don't remember any of the crowd-baiting that seems to have been the focal point of the evening's proceedings. Fond memories, though, and it's good that this archival footage exists, especially footage of the fabled Jay's corral.

I've been a huge Maria Bamford fan for a while now, but just got turned on to her online video series. It's a heapin' helpin' of comedic genius:
http://www.superdeluxe.com/sd/artist/maria_bamford

A few minutes ago I walked past the security guard and overheard him say the following to two women:
"I'm nicer to stray dogs than I am to homeless people."

COMMENTS

HIDE