Venice Cafe + Bottoms Up Blues = Accidentally Awesome

There comes a moment in every unplanned Friday night when you're faced with the inevitable question of, "What do you want to do?" At which point the person you ask usually answers with, "I don't know, what do you want to do?" Next time, instead of cleverly answering "I think I want to Shoop" [skip to 3:15], try suggesting to go to the Venice Cafe in Benton Park.

I had heard of Venice Cafe from a co-worker but she had only mentioned hitting it up in the Summer for some live Reggae action. I had no idea what to expect on a cold Spring night but it I knew when I walked up to the front door that it was going to cost me some bucks to get in. A band called The Bottoms Up Blues Gang was playing and I wasn't sure I was up for live music and was for sure apprehensive about paying for it. I asked the bouncer, "What are they like?", referring to the band. He answered, "They're like this..." and did a little kermit arms thing. Sold.

You can tell the place is eclectic from the outside but you have no idea just how eclectic until you step in the door. It's colorful and well decorated, but most of all it's comfortable. The Bottoms Up Blues Gang hadn't started so I headed up to the second floor to check the place out. If you can imagine a perfectly lit bar, this is it. Wait... If you can imagine what a perfectly lit bar in my head would be, then this is it. I suppose it's a bit relative. Anyway, I was just finishing my Boulevard Wheat (Yes! They have it!) when the music started.

Within the first two minutes of the first song I was hooked. The first thing you notice is the lead singer of course. But this woman caught you off guard with her singing. She was fantastic. She bursts with energy and enthusiasm and it's very obvious she's comfortable in front of crowds. The acoustic guitarist was equally well studied in music. He took a seat, lowered is head and just killed it. They also had two older gentlemen in the band. Not old in real life, just old comparatively. Well, a little old in real life... One played the harmonica like an old pro and the other played a kettle drum of some sort. I enjoy the simplicity of just one drum and it fit the stripped down blues feeling of this band. I watched them for them next two hours and had to be dragged out to leave before it was over. They really were mesmerizing.

At the moment it looks like they are on a bit of a regional tour, but they'll be back in St Louis at BB's on May 12th. You should totally check them out. But I think I'm going to wait for the June 12th show at Venice again. Any takers? Keep in mind it's awesome when making your decision. Also note that they aren't a real "Gang" in case you were worried. I'm fairly sure they are referencing the classical definition. Please don't come wearing your Gang colors. If you aren't sure what those are, simply reference one of my favorite Yahoo Answers.

Soulard Mardi Gras 2009

How did I enjoy Mardi Gras?  Perhaps one of the finest weekends I've had in years. Years! Now you're going to have to bear with me on this post. My friends played a large part of how much fun I had so there will be many references to people you probably don't know. I'll try to keep in mind that this IS a blog about my experiences in St Louis. Also, I should forewarn you that there is some debauchery included in this post. While I'm not a frequent visitor of some of the establishments described here, I am also not one to shy away. I'm also going to insist that you keep in mind that most of the actions of ill repute were alcohol induced and not in my everyday nature. Whatever, it was Mardi Gras. Deal with it Grandma. That said, let's begin.

I had to take Friday off of work to prepare. There was picking up the keg of Boulevard Wheat (of course) to deal with and the first two Chicago arrivals ETA was 2:00PM. Through the morning I prepared the apartment for what would amount to 11 people staying overnight. I cleared the loft out for air mattresses, vacuumed Oscar hair off the couches, and stocked the bathroom with TP. The keg would have to wait for my first guests to help me with the loading. I wouldn't consider myself full keg-strength. Neither would anyone else for that matter.

It was good to see John S. and Brian when they pulled up. They are former work peeps who promised to come down to Mardi Gras before my last day. Promise fulfilled, I gave them the quick tour and headed down to Vincent's Market on 12th St to pick up the keg. Vincent's really is fantastic. It's family operated and the owners son's are the nicest guys. They were working hard that day too. The guy picking up before us had a house near the Farmers Market and was picking up 12 kegs. He his parties started years ago with one keg too. Foreshadowing? God I hope not.

After setting up the keg in the laundry room where the moisture of the keg and ice couldn't hurt the wood floors in the rest of the apartment we headed down to Hammerstone's for some food. It was only 4:00 so there weren't too many patrons yet. Although I had been there multiple times the past two months I had not eaten there. As I scoured over the menu the server wholly recommended the chicken strips of all things. "I'm not a big chicken strip eater," I told him. He explained that I had never had anything like these before. They were cut straight from a chicken breast and battered with corn flakes. Yeah, I totally had to try them and you know what? Best chicken strips ever. Seriously, you need to get off your ass and go try them. Unbelievable.

It was around 8PM that Meg and Katie arrived. Meg was one of the first people I had met in St Louis and she's become one of my BF's for sure. She asked if her and Katie could stay over in exchange for making all us guys breakfast in the morning. Um, yes! They showed up with 3 bags worth of food. They likely spent way too much on us jerks but it was super nice of them.

It was right around 11PM that 5 of the guys got in. 3 via Amtrak. 2 by car. Mike (of helping me move fame), Erich, John-John, Kevin, and JRob settled in began making a dent in the keg. In the meantime, the last people due in, Jon and Court had just informed me their train was 3 hours late and they would be in until sometime around 3 AM. Plenty of time for us all to hit bars.

The first place we hit was McGurks which was charging a lame $5 cover charge even though we were walking in at about last call. Not only that but they also had a DJ rocking the back tent. I can appreciate that on some nights but tonight it was just loud and annoying. Not to mention the exact opposite of how I described the place to everyone. We didn't stay long and my Chicago guests left rather unimpressed unfortunately. The few times I've been to McGurks it had been quite awesome.

So where do a bunch of guys unfamiliar with St Louis go with the local bars closing? Damn right... East side. For those unaware, East St Louis is know for not only being extremely dangerous but also for it's high-end strip clubs near the much safer industrial area. I'm not going to go into much detail here but Penthouse is one of the finer establishements of this nature I've ever been to. The Chicago boys completely agreed. The St Louis girls wouldn't join us. Probably a wise choice. They stayed back at the apartment and were fast asleep when us rowdy drunk guys got back at 3AM. As they were woken up by the laughing and yelling, Jon and Court finally arrived from their delayed travel. We drank a little more, made some frozen pizzas and then passed out by 4 with visions of beads dancing around in our heads. Ok, it was boobs.

The girls were up by at least 8 AM making breakfast. Us guys were sleepy, but thanks be to Boulevard Wheat, hangover free. (Those that only drank it mind you) Think eggs, bacon (everyone was calling it meat candy), and mimosa's. The next few hours were spent waiting for your turn to get in the shower. 11 peeps/1 shower=2 hours.  The parade had already started past Allen by the time we got out there.

The parade itself was way more fun than we thought it would be. Much of that may have to do with our parade-watching neighbors. I have no idea who they were but they were hilarious. They were throwing beads back at the floats or aiming for open car windows. Any other day this may have felt mean or childish, but not today. No, today it was high-brow irony. Omg I Lol'd all over myself. We spent about an hour there before we all needed to either use the bathroom or refill our beers. So with about 15 caught beads in hand I headed back to the Smile Lofts already in good spirit. Even with the parade going on the streets throughout Soulard were still teaming with people.

After the emptying of bladders and filling of cups we headed out amongst the crowds. The parade had ended by now so more people were milling about than before. From all later accounts, this apparently was a less attended Mardi Gras mostly attributed to the cold, windy weather, but that wasn't apparent to me. Our group attacked and divided spaces working our way through the crowd. Our goal? The finest purveyor of food. There was no consensus but I can personally recommend the Gumbo at Norton's on Geyer Ave. Top notch Norton's. They were also kind enough to give me, not one, but two high-end Jaeger beads. Thanks ladies! Most of the guys ended up getting Turkey legs which they put away rather quickly. Those too received good reviews. 

The crowd itself was getting rambunctious. Girls were walking up to us and trying to pull off our better beads. And we had some nice one's too. A few weeks before I was smart enough to hit the party store and buy us a nice grouping of high-end beads.  The most sought after? Cardinals beads, of course. We would not give those away for just anything. Anyway, again, we needed some refills and spending an hour in the crowds only is so exciting. If you can hang out at someone's apartment and occasionally mingle with the crowds I highly recommend it. It's the highest form of fun we could find.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of just that sort of Mardi Gras partying. The Smile Lofts ended up being a prime location.  Almost all of the 2nd floor lofts there were having parties and every single window was open. This led to women hanging from them, which then led to crowds gathering below. It went on all afternoon and couldn't have been more perfect for us. We were in and out of the door the entire day. We even let a group of strangers in. I had planned to be completely against an act like this but these girls were clever and good-looking and that is a perfect combination. As an attractive girl walking around Mardi Gras you are asked plenty of things, many of which include the request to show breasts. These girls were smart enough to not only have a plan for such questions but actually had enough self-esteem to not show everything for something as cheap as beads. They had decorated bras. Bejeweled to be exact. Home-made too. So getting a request to show your goods could be, and was, returned with a showing of decorated bras. It's pretty genius. It was enough to get the currency of the day in a fun way and without totally exposing yourself. I had to invite them in for some Boulevard Wheat. The best part? They were totally cool and nice. If we were only letting 4 people in all day those were the perfect 4. They only stayed 30 minutes but they fit right in with all of us. We were sad to see them go.

As the hours ran down on the day we all decided to take a walk down to BB's for some food and music. We got there right at 8 and they opened the upstairs up. Perfect timing. After the meal some people went back to the apartment to crash. The rest of us hit the Lumiere Casino. I walked up to the Craps table completely wasted and started throwing the dice. 25 minutes later I crapped out and was $200 richer. I'll never have another run like that. I quit of course and we soon headed back home. When we arrived at the Smile Lofts one of the first things we noticed was that someone had ripped down the gate to the parking lot. This would have been no easy task with how large it is. I assume their car was locked inside (Red Brick came by on Saturday morning and secured the gate as had been posted the week before). This won't be an easy or cheap fix. In all honesty, Red Brick was lucky.  This was a crazy weekend. The damage could have been much worse.

Overall, Mardi Gras was a way better than I had anticipated. I had never laughed so much. Same goes for the Chicago guys. Although the truth is, they are what made it so fun. And so it goes for all things really. It's the people you're with that make the situation. Lesson learned like Doogie Howser. Yeah, I had written the first part of that sentence, looked up for a second,, and then back down to write the poignant Doogie Howser ending.  

P.S. Sorry for the long wait on this post.  These long ones for big events take forever. Back to the more frequent updates.

Red Ass Jones

A few weekends ago some friends of mine came down from Chicago. I was excited to show them some of the things I'd been enjoying here in Soulard. They totally loved it here but the highlight of the weekend came completely unexpected. On Saturday afternoon we went for a late lunch and ended up back at the apartment around 7 drunk off our asses. All thanks to the complete awesomeness of Red Ass Jones and the Goldbondsmen.

The above picture doesn't do justice to the scene that day at The Shanti. As we were walking back from our relatively alcohol-free lunch we heard music from the windows as we passed by. The sign on the corner read Blue Grass Saturday: Red Ass Jones.  Yeah, we HAD to go in at that point. 

I had only been in The Shanti once before and it struck me as somewhat of a hippy bar. I hadn't seen so much tie-dye being worn since my high school courtyard circa 1994. That night a jam band had been playing too so it all kinda worked. Because of that experience I wasn't sure what kind of Blue Grass we were talking about. Hell, I wasn't even sure what Blue Grass sounded like. 

The place was packed for it being 4 in the afternoon and it was quite obvious they were there for the band. The scene was nuts. There were people dancing, singing, and calling out to the band. I was sure many of the people knew each other. We ordered some beers and began to take stock of Red Ass Jones. First of all, the music was fucking awesome. It's extremely reminiscent of the Soggy Bottom Boys from O' Brother Where Art Thou. We were immediately hooked and for us that is no easy task. We are definitely in music snob territory. The smallest thing can turn us off. 

Not only were the songs fantastic and often funny, but these guys were extremely experienced musicians. Not a note was off. Multiple members sing and all of them well for being so obviously drunk. (Part of the charm) Keep in mind this is no small band. I count 8 from memory: Mandolin, Electric guitar, Stand-up Bass, Drums, Acoustic Guitar, Banjo, Fiddle, and Washboard. And perhaps their greatest charm is the character each one of these guys exudes. Every single one of them has something very specific and different about them. The drummer is some sort of combination cowboy/hipster with his cowboy hat and black-rimmed glasses. The Stand-up Bassist looks like a character from a Smokey and the Bandit movie while the Mandolin player may have been part of the Grateful Dead.  It's an eclectic array of guys and the one's that speak to the audience are smart and witty.  It was a concert experience like none other we'd ever had. 

This was all compounded by the crowd. One guy in particular really. J.R. is an older man, let's guess 58. He wears a two-tone half and half button up rodeo shirt with J.R. embroidered on the collar. On his head sits a somehow professionally-made-looking cowboy hat made from Miller Lite 12-pack boxes. He also wears a large belt buckle. Another funny thing about J.R. is that he tips the band every five minutes or so while requesting them to "play me a Gospel song".  He does this in between dancing with his lady and what I mean by dancing is grabbing her ass a whole lot on the dance floor. J.R. was a decidedly awesome addition and also quote fodder for the rest of the weekend. The band was amused by J.R.'s antics and played along with him without being assholes. They even did play that gospel song for him. 

3 hours later, drunk and tired from having a ludicrously good time for it being late afternoon, we left The Shanti with our minds blown. After a short rest we went out that night with a new respect for Blue Grass music. We even gave playing it ourselves a try later that night. Not good.

What is good is that Red Ass Jones plays The Shanti every other Saturday between 4pm and 7pm. I can't recommend it enough. Be sure to say hi to me when you're there. I'll be the dude pounding the Boulevard Wheats and nodding my head approvingly Mr. Miyagi style.