Casa del Coyote

On this day I didn’t pick-up my camera ’til about lunch time. However, a great deal happened during those hours that ENatFlow’s blog captures as accurately and wonderfully as it could possibly be re-told. You should definitely read it, if for no other reason than the account of the breakfast we didn’t eat.

A decision was made to skip the Bullet Boys’ set, because (1) it was hot, (2) we (and by “we” I mean The Bone & I) were still re-hydrating, and (3) after the breakfast incident, preparing lunch jumped higher on the priority list. I did, however, take a walk toward the stage and heard several choruses from “For the Love of Money.” The Bullet Boys sounded alright…just not better than the taste of the burgers we were about to have back at camp. Said burgers featured the largest tomato I’ve ever seen:

The damn thing, as you can see, was friggin’ enormous…even with some of the bottom cut-off, it stands nearly as tall as a koozied beer can, and was damn near as big around as my face. It also happened to be among the most flavorful tomatoes any of us had ever eaten. Sherman, Texas, you grow some fabulous friggin’ tomatoes!

No one else was really interested in seeing Taime Down’s version of Faster Pussycat (and if you don’t know, yes, that is pronounced tie me down…witty glam-era name, huh?). Long story short: band break-up yielded two Faster Pussycat incarnations touring simultaneously. One edition is more poppy/glam-ish and this edition is a more goth-ish rendition of their 80′s selves. What is gothish glam, you ask? Well, if Taime Down’s performance represents that sub-genre accurately, gothish glam is one of the worst concepts in the history of music.

Taime looked hideous, sounded worse, and at one point he went so far as to say, regarding his former bandmate Brent Muscat, “I wish the cancer Brent had would have killed him.” The until-then feisty afternoon Rocklahoma crowd was sorta stunned. There were gasps, a few boos, but mostly just a few thousand folks wishing Taime would just not suck so bad at singing his own band’s songs. I liken Taime’s presence and appearance to a mutant offspring of Marilyn Manson, Frankenstein’s monster, Boy George, William Hung, and Patty & Selma Bouvier:

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The next photo, of Taime’s butt, features a kilt-looking thing being sold at the merch booths that read “Pussy Power.” Price tag for one of those babies? $55.

Faster Pussycat’s guitarist did a decent rock guitar pose, for whatever that was worth:

But it was all about Taime…and it was getting worse. He shed his hat, lit a cigarette, wiped some pasty sweat-goo from his forehead (I literally heard several people utter, “Ew”), and struggled through a terrible rendition of their hit ballad, “House of Pain.” It had been a decent, gritty ballad at the time, but today the song was utterly destroyed. On the upside, Taime admitted they sounded “a bit rusty” and “I know most of you didn’t come to see us, but we appreciate you being here during our set anyway.” What a guy. More:

But Faster Pussycat’s set was about to get worse (much worse, even) with the performance of their latest album’s title track, “Glory Hole.” Yes, glory hole. It featured an audience sing-a-long. Yeah, a bunch of folks at about 1:00PM or so were truly into singing the words:

Your lips take control,
Here lies the power of the glory hole

The drummer really seemed to like that song, though:

If you can imagine, I went ahead and left this set a bit early. I remained this long just as a person waits around to watch a train wreck. Upon my return to camp there was still lunch to be eaten (again, covered very well in ENatFlow’s blog) and an ensuing fashion show would take place. Yes, ENatFlow decided to go through my stash of junior high and high school concert t-shirts to find his attire for the rest of the day.

It’s worth noting that (to our collective delight) ENatFlow was actually enjoying Rocklahoma. It wasn’t just the primo people-watching (that was a given) or the music (I think he appreciated it more than anticipated). Nope, I truly think he began to enjoy the sheer joie de vivre felt by all in attendance.

But back to said fashion show…

Shirt #1: Purchased at Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet tour stop in El Paso, circa 1987. I modified it as any wannabe/poseur rocker of the day would have. NOTE: The back reads, “BON JOVI ROCKS YOUR ASS OFF” Oh, those hardcore New Jerseyans.

Shirt #2: Purchased at the Motley Crue/Whitesnake El Paso tour date, the Crue supporting Girls, Girls, Girls. We stopped the fashion show at this point because, clearly, he’d found the perfect shirt:

With the meals prepped/lost/recreated and eaten, the day’s wardrobe chosen, and Taime gone, we embarked (smuggled beers aplenty in-tow) toward the festival gates eager for an afternoon and evening of Firehouse, Warrant, Skid Row, Winger, Dokken, and Vince Neil. This line-up would prove to surprise, disgust, energize, impress, humor, and RAWK us like we’d never been rawked before.*

* Not every member of our group had previously been “rawked” before this date.

The events below take place on 7/13/2007, from approximately 9:00AM to midnight. They signify a weekend that truly was The Greatest Thing To Happen Since Pretty Boy Floyd’s Release of “Leather Boyz With Electric Toyz.”

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A wonderful thing happened in Pryor, Oklahoma of all places. Yes, Oklahoma. I know! It made me not want to go either. Really. But I went. And some friends and I had about the best time you can cram into a period that covered 1,000 miles, dozens and dozens of beers, and lasted from 6:00AM Friday morning until 6:00PM Sunday evening. The event: the first annual Rock Fever Fest, aka ROCKLAHOMA.

We’ll begin in Dallas, Texas already 3 hours north of Austin, because cameras just shouldn’t be shooting pictures before 9AM. Apparently, 7-11 has converted several of their stores into Kwik E Marts to promote the upcoming Simpsons movie. One of them is just off Highway 75 in Dallas:

Continuing on, just north of Dallas we noticed an inordinate number of people exiting at this particular exit. Someone in the truck suggested the exit’s number had something to do with this. I didn’t understand.

But our quartet continued Northeast, into the land of the Soo… Soone… I can’t say it. The image below captures the mood of the ride. No, he’s not blurry, we’re just getting closer to Rocklahoma.

We arrived, rolled the windows down, and heard the strains of White Lion’s “Little Fighter.” Sounded pretty good. Mike Tramp was having a rough go at singing in the hot, dry air but Not-Vito-Bratta sounded great (henceforth, all replacements of original band members will be identified with “Not-” preceding the name of the person they’ve replaced). With the vehicle containing two pretty serious fans of this fest’s music (“El Coyote” & “The Bone”) and two others who, well, aren’t quite as devoted to the genre (“Sister Darkness” & “ENatFlow”), Bone and I grabbed six beers and high-tailed it to the show. Darkness & NatFlow were kind enough to, well, do all the work of setting up camp. Bless ‘em.The walk to the gate was electric. “Tell Me” went off without a hitch. “When The Children Cry” had even folks in the parking lots and campground raising their sweaty arms in the air. “Wait” played as The Bone and I chugged the last of our Lone Stars before heading into the festival. We had a tough time finding a seat as White Lion left the stage:

But seriously, we felt magic about to happen as we were drawn toward the red and blue striped tent off to the right. Muffled sounds of a cover band wound their way to our ears. “Welcome to the Jungle.” How appropriate. But, no, it was to get better. In the center of the tent, rocking almost literally like a hurricane, The Bone and I saw the most magnificent mullet ever donned. Billy Ray Cyrus couldn’t hold this guy’s jock.

I didn’t get his name, but ENatFlow and I ran into him later at which time I got my picture taken with “The Mullet.” Check out ENatFlow’s blog for that photo–his point of view is a great complementary account of the festival.

Y&T was up next. The weather was very sunny and very hot, but Y&T was pretty formative for me (their video to “Summertime Girls” contributed to my wanting to be a rock star) so we prepared to hear the band whose name is short for Yesterday And Tomorrow. Plus, if you believe www.Meniketti.com (Meniketti is the singer’s last name), Y&T plays “Music That Melts Your Face.” Beautiful. Here’s ol’ Dave now:

Y&T was good but I’d heard “Don’t Stop Runnin’” and we were thirsty, so it was time to make our first trip back to camp. NOTE: Our weekend contained many trips to our campsite from the seating areas because Oklahoma’s beer is limited to an alcohol content of 3.2%. For comparison, Budweiser’s about 5%. We took 51 beers. The bulk of them were gone in the next few hours.

ENatFlow & Sister Darkness did a glorious job of constructing our palace for the next couple days. Home Sweet Home:

We had some great neighbors, too. For whatever reason, Oklahomans like to get on top of their campers:

And in cases where they don’t climb their campers, they seem to send aloft human facsimiles (below). And when sex dolls aren’t handy, to their credit, they just stick a couple of their bikini-clad counterparts with alligators in front of their tents:

But as soon as we could down about 6 more beers and load our cargo-pant-short pockets with a total of 10 or so more beers (God bless Rocklahoma security!), it was time to head back to the show. Slaughter was up next and we knew we’d be up all night. [groan] At least tomorrow we could sleep all day. [double groan]

An unnamed member of our party thought the backdrop read, “laughter.” For some reason, they weren’t kicked out of the show for uttering such blasphemy. So, below we’ve got (1) that very backdrop, (2) the band’s namesake, Mark Slaughter, and (3) either Blas Elias or Not-Blas-Elias on drums.

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Before we get any further, it’s time to meet our crew. As mentioned before, we’ve got ENatFlow (in blue, with the killer redneck/eagle/Stars & Stripes cap), Sister Darkness (in the U-necked halter thingy…I’ve got no fashion knowledge), and The Bone (gray shirt, black cap), and I’m in the anti-censorship Warrant shirt circa 1991. We were joined occasionally by the lovely RockaRolla (cowboy hat). Great folks, all of ‘em. The “food” they’re consuming is called “Indian Taco.” Don’t ask, and for God’s sake don’t ever buy one of those things.

Quiet Riot’s up next. By this point I wasn’t sure–many beers had been consumed and several stockpiling trips had been made to the campsite and vendors. It’s not even midnight.

Quiet Riot was solid, as far as I can remember. I screamed along to “Metal Health” and “Mama Weer All Crazy Now.” Good times. The most notable thing about QR, though, was lead singer Kevin DuBrow. He no longer wears his Gallagher-like super-tight curled hairdo with a receding hairline. Nope. DuBrow’s gone full-blown MILF on us:

Seriously, is he (a) the lead singer of pioneering metal band Quiet Riot or (b) a super-hot cougar soccer mom? You make the call.

The midnight hour is finally upon us at Rocklahoma, as is the end of this post. The next post will be “after midnight.” The remaining line-up for the night is RATT and Poison.

As this is my first blog post using this forum, I’d appreciate any and all feedback you have regarding content, format, long-windedness, etc.

Rock On,

El Coyote