From his seat in Indiana's capital city, Matt discusses politics and pop culture. His hobbies include longing for simpler times, complaining about the government, and shaking his fist at the sky. * K&S is updated on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
By TIM BREWER - Guest Blogger, Danny Bonaduce's Dealer
Memorial Day is always the right time to reflect on the sacrifices of our men and women in the armed forces. This three-day weekend also creates a number of interesting memories for me, as the Indianapolis 500 is held in my hometown, my family visits for a cookout and I always find time to fit in a solid hangover or two.
This Memorial Day weekend will be etched in my brain forever because of a goofball friend from high school and his countless unimaginable actions. My blog superstar buddy Matt (creator of this fair blog) and I meet up with goofball friend to go to a cookout. We drive to the cookout and he sees a lady pulled over having car trouble pleading for his help. She tries to flag us down and he rolls down the window and yells, "I don't have any money, honey!" We then arrive at the party and I introduce my friends to the host and a few people. We were not there but 15 minutes and he sees a larger woman walking on the sidewalk and screams "You got a big ass!" Impressive, I know. I’ve known the host for a few years and I think she is so cute and darling, and now she probably thinks I’m a total dillweed for bringing him along.
We proceed to a concert just around the corner and make our path up near the stage. Goofball friend finds the first woman who makes eye contact with him and he hops on it like a tiger devouring a wilderbeast. His attempt to recreate "Dirty Dancing" may just make me devoid of all female fantasies for the next six months. From other concert attendees I heard, "get a room," "that chick is brutal," "come on man, Jesus," "wasn’t she in 'Planet of the Apes,'" "wash your hands," and infinite use of the words heinous and atrocious. It was something to behold.
Needless to say, Matt and I left him there and got burritos.
It's great to be back in Indy during Memorial Day Weekend for the first time in several years. Even though the Indy 500 was a little anticlimactic due to the rain delays, it was enjoyable to watch nonetheless. Thanks to Average Joe's in Broad Ripple for showing the race live and getting the satellite feed. Also a sarcastic thanks to the "sports bar" bartender who I called and asked if her establishment would be showing the race, to which she responded, "Um, yeah!" Turns out, they weren't, as she had no idea it would require a special satellite feed.
Here's the thing on this one: You're a "sports bar" in Indianapolis. INDIANAPOLIS! See, we have this race, you might have heard of it. Biggest sporting event in the world. Some would say it's a big deal. And some would also assume a "sports bar" in Indianapolis would have a plan for the showing/non-showing of said race. Like, you might just know whether or not you're going to be showing it.
And although the rain sort of dampened the climax, I think the world was shocked to learn that winner Dario Franchitti (yes, Mr. Ashley Judd) is actually Scottish. Scottish? Dario Franchitti. Interesting.
After the race, Timmy and I attended a few parties and eventually the Here Come the Mummies concert at the Vogue. While these cats may seem like a novelty act due to their eccentric garb, they're damn good musicians. I'd label them as sort of a dance/funk band who play original stuff. I think "Dirty Minds" might be my favorite, but they have quite an impressive catalog. If you live in the Midwest and haven't seen them, I'd strongly recommend you give them a listen, as they have quite a cult following in Indy. Only issue: We brilliantly positioned ourselves near one of the speakers just off-stage, so neither Tim nor myself can hear out of our left ears today. Didn't think that one through.
Instead of watching the "American Idol" finals earlier this week, I watched a tremendous feature on "Saturday Night Live" in the 1990s on NBC.
It got me thinking about a lot of the cast members of yesteryear, many of whom were panned during their tenures and became revered thereafter. However, one cast member who was revered during this tenure and is now widely panned is Chevy Chase. And I don't get it. In fact, it's become so cool to dump on Chevy that it's almost cliche. But why?
Are you telling me that "Caddyshack" wasn't great? Is the "National Lampoons Christmas Vacation" not the best Christmas comedy ever? I know - I KNOW - you're not going to tell me the "Fletch" duology isn't one of the best movie series featuring a wisenheimer journalist/detective. It takes a big man to crack jokes while he's beingchased by the cops.
So the next time you hear someone badmouth the Chevster, don't be bashful in speaking up on his behalf. Without him, Christmas would still be about claymation Rudolph and "SNL" would be about Joe Piscopo. Respect the Chev!