Usain Bolt, a Jamaican Sprinter, is the Fastest Man On The Planet (that in the world title is worthless when you're talkin' about Usain).  He was my favorite athlete during the Olympics(sorry Michael Phelps), because he looked like he was having fun the whole time!  The 22 year old, broke the 100m dash record while high stepping during the last 20 meters...that's how much better he was and is than everyone.  And no one will break his 200m record ever except him (the old record stood for 12 years)!  But the reason I am writing this is because last week, ESPN interrupted programming for a Usain Bolt race!  Not Olympics, not worlds, just a regular meet in Europe, in September.  Last time I saw ESPN interrupt programing was when Barry Bonds was going for Hank Aaron's record.  That's just a major look for Usain and those Gold Puma's.  As a lover of Track & Field, I am happy that I can see someone that doesn't act stupid like Maurice Green show boating, but like Usain Bolt, just killin' 'em with his Swagger!  Thank You Usain Bolt For Saving Track! ...Now if only someone like Usain could save Boxing...? hmm... Oh well ...It Is What It Is...

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Read the rest of this entry »

I saw a London revival of Oklahoma! ten years ago, with Maureen Lipman as Aunt Ella. I remember vividly a programme note pointing out that for Americans one of the ground-breaking things about the work was its title: Oklahoma does not have very sophisticated connotations in the United States. The programme went on to say that it was reminiscent of an old pre-war British theatrical story:

One theatrical type asks another “How’s Goodnight Vienna playing in Streatham?” to which the answer was “About as well as Goodnight Streatham would play in Vienna.”

When I mentioned this to my mother, she told me the first film she ever saw at the cinema was Goodnight Vienna, possibly with Jack Buchanan and Evelyn Laye.

Showboat was the first musical I ever saw and my grandfather took me to see it. We went to the matinee performance and he fell asleep so I decided not to wake him and watch it round again. There were frantic scenes when we finally arrived home – very late.

(My paternal grandfather was a character and a half! I was always singing songs I heard on the radio as a very small child and being an extrovert used to burst into song whenever we were out if the mood took me. He soon discovered that lots of people would say “Aah how cute” and give me money. He was a compulsive gambler and I didn’t realize until many years later that when he took me out and told me to sing on the bus or in other crowded places, he was effectively taking me busking.)

Deze keer wilde ik eigenlijk op dezelfde manier te werk gaan: ik had nog een tot hotpants verknipte spijkerbroek, rare laarzen, en wilde eigenlijk alleen nog sporen, een hoed en een geil topje voor mijn cowgirl-outfit. Ik had leuke topjes gezien op kinky4all.nl , waarvan de showroom niet ver van mijn huis is.

Zodra ik de showroom binnen was en vertelde wat ik zocht, keek de dame die me hielp me aan. Ze pakte de topjes waar ik om vroeg, maar zei direct dat ze iets anders voor me in gedachten had. Moest het zwart zijn?

"Niet echt, ik vind een minder gebruikelijke kleur ook mooi... paars of wit bijvoorbeeld."

Met een glimlach hield ze een paars leren korset omhoog, en had er direct een bijpassend rokje bij. Ik kon moeilijk protesteren, want zodra ik het aan had, bleek het korset als gegoten te zitten en de rok wonderbaarlijk goed te staan.**

Om een lang verhaal kort te maken, na dat korset en die rok waren de topjes die ik van plan was te proberen een ramp, en een ander korset zat niet lekker. Mijn outfit stond vast, en het was een hit (al zeg ik het zelf).

Ik begin langzaam op te warmen voor fetishkleding. Met korsetten heb ik al een tijdje iets; ik vind ze mooi, ze zitten lekker, ze staan me goed. Ik heb tieten en een taille; als mijn buik wordt gladgestreken komen die beter uit. En stiekem, stiekem vind ik leer een van de mooiste materialen die er zijn. Het is wild en dierlijk, barbaars. Het is blote huid die je ongegeneerd mag laten zien. Het ruikt nog een beetje naar beest.

Ik verander een klein beetje in een stadskrijger als ik het draag. Een fetishkrijger in korset.

Dat ik een klein opdondertje blijf, maar dan in een, in een lagelonenland gefabriceerde, stoere outfit, mag de pret niet drukken. In paars leer en mijn ongemakkelijke schoenen in zwart-wit*** ben ik onoverwinnelijk... zelfs als ik mezelf op de dansvloer voor gek aan het zetten ben.

*~*~*

*Nou ja, normaal... ik ben twee keer geweest en moest daarna één keer op het laatste moment afzeggen nadat ik al een outfit had samengesteld.

**Ik ben geen rokkentype. Laten we het erop houden dat ik me niet in rokken in het openbaar vertoon, alleen op fetishfeesten.

***Probeer jij maar eens bijpassende paarse laarzen te vinden binnen een dag.

What happens when you have a highly evolved society? Your citizens begin flinging infants into oncoming traffic and expansive red light districts form in your city centers. This, of course, will stoke the fires of ire amongst the pundits and the blowhards, but I will include a discussion of the near slaughter of infants due to sheer smugness, so there will be a few laughs in there as well. I will try to keep it light since my more serious rants tend to chap people’s asses a little bit.

Oslo, Norway. Not much to say for Oslo. Nice drive in, less than awe inspiring downtown, but beautiful countryside. A decent show, but once again overshadowed by the off-stage antics of the man, the myth, the legend; Terry Sharkey. For the faithful, devoted readers, I reference a previous tour stop in Barcelona where Terry enjoyed some time with rival concrete factory workers. Rather than repeat myself, I urge you to lurk back in the archives for the sordid details of that encounter. They will tell you all you need to know about Terry in Oslo, Norway. Improbable, you say, that such a unique encounter could occur twice in the same month? Perhaps, but Terry Sharkey dares to dream the impossible dream. He sees the world in different colors, he breathes a different kind of air. Acid turns to nectar on his tongue. Plus, he hangs out with Life Legend, Chris Gannett, so the dice are weighted in his favor right off the bat.

Fast forward twenty-four hours to Hamburg, Germany, home of the highly evolved European society. Like any major port city, Hamburg has a bit of an unruly past that has developed into a hip, colorful society. A beautiful, picturesque city center is punctuated by a raucous, somewhat truculent, uninhibited red light district. Ladies and gentlemen, enter, once again, Terry Sharkey. Traverse the infamous Reeper Bahn red light district of Hamburg and your senses will be overwhelmed with sex shops, strip clubs, whorehouses, naked kino, and prostitutes in sweatpants and fanny packs. Your trek for good gyros and cheap cans of beer will be halted every few steps by sleazy whorehouse barkers luring you into their corrupt chambers of imprudence! It was in this atmosphere that Terry Sharkey found his Golden Ticket of Hamburg.

With Life Legend, Chris Gannett in tow Terry Sharkey entered the confines of one of the most venerable Irish pubs in the Reeper Bahn. One Guinness turned to three, four Guinness’ turned to four more Jameson Irish whiskeys. Four Guinness’ and four Jameson turned into a long walk back to the hotel whereupon a night of debacle trumped all the rest! While the rest of the band slumbered elsewhere in the hotel, some drinking red wine on the terrace, others watching the fabulous German animated show Ki.Ka, Terry Sharkey unleashed a legendary nocturnal rush of sweat, passion and adrenaline, punctuated only by yet another mythical gyro-run by Life Legend, Chris Gannett!

When morning broke, it broke early for Terry and his new lady-friend. For one, in his drunken stupor, Terry found it impossible to discern the physical process required for actually closing the blinds in the room, thus creating an inhospitable atmosphere for late morning sleep. Unable to win the battle between the sun and eyelids, Terry stirred to another more startling rude awakening. As his newfound companion prepared to hasten her departure, in her best broken English she began asking Terry for payment. In his hung-over, shocked morning stupor Terry began his impassioned argument that he “had no idea she was a working girl.” She insisted that she was in fact working, and that if she did not get payment she would be required to call her “employer.”

With a sudden rush of desperation Terry announced that he had to go to the cash machine and took off on a maniacal run through the corridors of the hotel in an effort to escape what he perceived as an impending beat-down from what was sure to be a very objectionable pimp. His dash ended in a prolonged crouch behind a room-service cart in an employee stairwell where he found comfort in hiding for nearly an hour before being discovered by a rather startled housekeeper and was reluctantly ushered out into the lobby. Upon his arrival in the lobby he was greeted by an admittedly scared and alarmed room-mate Chris “Gunner Fritz” Gannett. In reality, the situation was far less hostile than Terry initially assumed, and the money the young woman was asking for was merely a favor for a few Euro of subway money so that she could get to work on time. If she could not borrow a few Euro for the train she would then have been required to call her employer and inform him that she would have to walk a sizable distance and thus be late for work. Chris graciously fronted the girl two Euro for the train and she luckily made it to work on time.

Thinking all of the drama was behind them, Zelazowa and friends boarded their tour vans and hastened their journey to that night’s show in Prague. Behind the wheel, Bryan Weber only made it into first gear as he pulled out of the parking space and was met with the startling collision of a female bicyclist and her infant passenger!

To backtrack, Hamburg as a city is the model of the highly evolved, politically correct, “Green Society.” The city is notable for its incredible system of bicycle paths and tremendous number of citizens who wisely choose to ride their bikes rather than clog the arteries with petrol guzzling automobiles. Unfortunately, the highly evolved bicycle and path system has created a society of individuals who have little regard for pedestrians and traffic and see their presence on the sidewalks and streets as superior to other forms of traffic. Numerous times while walking down the sidewalks of Hamburg, Zelazowa was alarmed by the onrushing ding of bicycle bells which they quickly learned meant that if they did not get out of the way, they would be run down where they stood. Even when there were wide areas open space on the sidewalk around Zelazowa or other pedestrians, the bicyclists would never veer from their allotted space on the thoroughfare!

It was just such a proud bicyclist who collided with the van driven by Bryan. As he slowly made his way out of the tight parking space and into the street that was virtually devoid of motor traffic, the woman on the bicycle made no attempt to alter her course of travel as she approached the Zelazowa van from behind. Instead of making a simple, graceful arc to the other side of the street, she maintained her slow course of travel even as she made prolonged eye contact with Bryan in the moving automobile. Prudence would dictate that the woman moving on the bicycle, with an infant child on board, approaching a moving vehicle from behind would at least slow down or stop in the interest of the health of her child! Not in Hamburg.

At the moment of impact, the entire band sat, heads turned, fixated on the onrushing mother and child, all jerking their heads in one unified flinch as she met the side of the van with a thunderous collision. A smear of facial grease was all that remained as the woman, her infant child, and the bicycle fell over sideways onto the street, luckily devoid of all motor traffic. Luckily, the oncoming bicyclist whose path they fell into did alter his course to avoid running over the mother and child, but in true Hamburg fashion did not stop.

In the end the woman was fine, neither the car or the bicycle were damaged, and all parties went their separate ways with only a minor argument. In fact, the one thing that probably kept the child from sustaining any serious head or neck injury was the medical neck brace that the child was already wearing! Perhaps a doctor prescribed accoutrement from a previous display of thoughtful traffic navigation on the part of his mother.

After their long trek to the Czech Republic, stewing over that morning’s news that the next night’s show in Hanover, Germany had been canceled, Zelazowa rolled proudly into on of their favorite cities, Prague. The show went well, though Bryan Weber came to near fisticuffs with the semi-retarded, completely inept sound technician who for the first time in two weeks nearly ruined the entire show with his complete inability to control the sound, EQ, and ear splitting feedback coming from the PA system. Keep in mind, this was the first time he nearly ruined the show, because the last time Zelazowa played at Chateau Rouge, despite the sweaty success of the evening, the same sound technician basically did ruin the entire show in the sense actual audio quality.

The tension ran very high, replaced soon by complete befuddlement as Zelazowa discovered that they had just opened the show for a band of fifteen year old girls playing AC/DC and Nirvana covers. This then was followed by the evening’s main event, karaoke. Classic karaoke performances were abound as Terry Sharkey tore through a canon of material from Madonna and Oasis, only to be outshined by both a performance of Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” and Rush’s “Tom Sawyer.” The crowd was almost uncontrollable during Ian Sharkey’s outrageous rendition of “Tom Sawyer” as he marched around the stage like a lunatic, flinging cups of beer into the audience, and eventually topping it all off with a majestic and prolonged testicular exposure!

Zelazowa awoke the next day, having only found slumber after dawn, eager to see more of the incredible city. This time the perfect weather was a stark contrast to the previous visit when it spat rain incessantly and sightseeing was made somewhat irksome. A trip to the famed Prague Castle was nearly marred by a trip to the hospital when Kyle Weber passed out while climbing the nearly endless stairwell to the top of the cathedral tower. The 244 steps up the extremely tight, almost vertical circular staircase would be difficult even if you were a lone clergy doing your daily task, but add hundreds of sweaty, overweight tourists with no restriction on how many people could occupy the stairs at any one time, ascending and descending simultaneously in an area wide enough for only one average sized person, and you begin to have a problem. Add the two cups of hot wine, a Prague delicacy that Kyle downed on his equally steep hike up the narrow, sun baked streets to the cathedral, and you have an even more sensitive issue at hand.

Having made it over two thirds of the way on his own, Bryan and Terry were required only to drag and carry him an additional 80 steps to the summit in an ever escalating challenge of space occupation as the corridor became even more packed with panicking, sweating, claustrophobic tourists who, many unable to understand English, had to be under the impression that the sweaty Americans were dragging a dead body up the steps.

Upon arrival at the top of the tower the group collapsed into a sweat drenched heap of exhaustion. Though occupied by a lone security guard, the top of the tower was obviously devoid of medical personnel and short of a helicopter airlift the only way to the bottom was back down the steps. Kyle came back to the world upon arriving at the top and the group replenished themselves with much needed water, rest, and the tremendous view of Prague from that altitude. The descent was much easier and upon setting foot back on soil the group made their way back across the city to the Chateau Rouge where they commenced a ten hour episode of binge drinking. The day came to an end with a climactic, drunken three mile power-walking footrace across Prague between the Tortoise and the Hare, Terry and Ian Sharkey.

And so came to an end the 2008 European Tour. The next show is on Friday, May 16^th at the Khyber Philadelphia as the band makes their triumphant return to the United States. Following that last show, the band will be heading into the studio in Nashville, Tennessee where they will begin work on their second full length LP, and the follow-up to the Billboard 200 charting EP, Polymorph. A tour will follow in the fall, as will the release of the as yet untitled album, and the new DVD tourfilm, Convoi Exceptionnel, featuring many of the moments I have had the pleasure to share with you here.

Asbury Park

Friday, May 16

The Dejas at Twisted Tree Cafe, 6-7 pm

Majnun at Twisted Tree Cafe, 7-9 pm

Mike Ness of Social Distortion, Jesse Dayton at The Stone Pony, 7:30 pm, all ages

You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, presented by ArtsCAP's Acting Studio in association with Madison

Marquette at Asbury Park High School, 8 pm

Adam Arcuragi, Birdie Num Num & the Spirit Squad, Roadside Graves at Asbury Lanes, 8 pm

Saturday, May 17

Benefit concert for the Valerie Fund Center for Children with Cancer and Blood Disorders, Atonement Lutheran Church Hall, 308 First Ave., 1-5 pm, free admission, refreshments served

Virago at Twisted Tree Cafe, 7 pm

Flat-Track Roller Derby: Jersey Shore Roller Girls vs. Garden State Rollergirls, music by The Coppertones at Convention Hall, 7 pm

Mike Ness of Social Distortion, Jesse Dayton at The Stone Pony, 7 pm, all ages

You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, presented by ArtsCAP's Acting Studio in association with Madison Marquette at Asbury Park High School, 8 pm

Sunday, May 18

You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, presented by ArtsCAP's Acting Studio in association with Madison Marquette at Asbury Park High School, 3 pm

Spiraling, April Smith, A Love Like Pi at The Stone Pony, 5 pm, all ages

Bob Egan on piano at Moonstruck, 7 pm

Atlantic City

Harrahs

May 16th - 18th 2008 Deborah Gibson - Pop Goes Broadway

The Concert Venue
Price $25

Showboat

May 17th 2008 Belinda Carlisle

House of Blues
Price $43, $33

May 17th 2008 Michalis Hatzigiannis

House of Blues
Price $96

Avalon

May 17, 2008 - Safe Boating Course - 9:30-5:30 - Elementary School - Sponsored by the Library

The Avalon Free Public Library is offering the Boater Safety Course on Saturday, April 5, May 3, May 17, June 21, and July 26. Class hours are from 9:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. in the Elementary School. Members of the U.S. Delsea Power Squadron will be teaching the basics of safety such as seamanship, boat handling, boat types, rules of the road, navigation aids, regulations, adverse conditions, trailering and introductory piloting. Upon successful completion of the exam, the NJ Boater Safety Certificate will be issued.

Classes are limited to 20 people. Registration is required by calling Frank Leone of the Power Squadron at 609-398-2649. Course is free. Payment of $25 for materials and license fees must be received for registration to be complete.

May 17, 2008 - Watercolor with Anna Marie Zabielski - Library - 9 - 4 Sponsored by the Library & the Cape May County Art League

Anna Marie's impressionistic renderings expressed with bright, clean color are exhibited in both juried and invitational shows. Her paintings hang in corporate and private collections on the East and West Coasts and in Great Britain.

Ms. Zabielski is the recipient of many fine art awards including Best of Show, First Second, Third and Honorable Mentions, as well as Merit Awards. She is a member of the Philadelphia Watercolor Society, an Associate Member of the Riverfront Renaissance Center for the Arts in Millville, NJ, as well as a member of Gallery 50, Inc. in Bridgeton, NJ and the New Jersey American Artists' Professional League. Anna Marie also is a member and has served on the Board of the Cape May County Art League.

Students will paint first on the Yupo paper and then paint the same subject or a similar subject on the traditional 140 lb. watercolor paper. The focus of the workshop is to experience the benefits and nuances of both papers and observe how the same painting looks different because of the difference in the surfaces. For more information including a list of supplies, click here.

Limited seating. Registration required. For more information, call 967-7155.

May 17th 2008 Avalon Garden Club Plant & Bake Sale
12:00pm to 3:00pm
Phone: 856-424-3846
Contact name: Joy Gligor

Avalon Garden Club Plant & Bake Sale to be held on Friday, May 16th & Saturday, May 17th from Noon till 3:00 pm in the Community Hall 30th St & the beach. For more information contact Peggy 368-1330. A wide variety of plants can be ordered through pre-sale, however all of those plants may not be available on the actual days of the sale unless ordered in advance.

72 hour, 70 mile run from the Commodore Barry Bridge to Avalon, NJ.

May 18th 2008 1:00pm - 2:00pm

Matthew Cubbler, a Collegeville, Pennsylvania police officer will be conducting a 72 hour, 70 mile run from the Commodore Barry Bridge to Avalon, NJ. The run is expected to conclude on Sunday, May 18th, at 1pm at the Veterans' Plaza in Avalon. Various elected officials from the Avalon and Philadelphia areas will be on hand to welcome Matt at the conclusion of his run. Matt is attempting to raise $50,000 for an organization called C.O.P.S., and for scholarships for children with various physical and mental disabilities.

May 17 & 18, 2008 - MS Bikeathon

Avalon is one of the stops on the 2 day MS Bikeathon- Contact you local Muscular Dystrophy office for more info.

The Mid Jersey is proud to offer five different tours!

170 Miles of Open Road Ahead
Saturday and Sunday May 17th - 18th.
Ride Starts at Monmouth University Saturday
Challenge yourself...Enjoy the miles of seaside communities along with the exhilarating satisfaction of completing 170 miles. Perfect tour for the avid cyclst.
Registration 7:00 AM Ride starts at 8:00 AM Minimum Pledge Requirement $350
EARLY BIRD FEE $40 (ENDS 1/11/08)
GENERAL FEE $50 (BY 4/18/08)
LATE FEE $60 (BY 5/12/08) Click here to register now!

Saturday 85 Miles - One day ride
Saturday May 17th - Starts at Monmouth University
Enjoy the camaraderie of your friends, teammates, or family for a day of cycling or challenge yourself to a century! PLEASE NOTE THAT THE ONE DAY 85 MILE TOUR WILL HAVE TWO SCHEDULED SHUTTLE BUSES LEAVING PINELANDS AT APPROXIMATELY 4:00 PM AND 6:00 PM ONLY.
Registration 7:00 AM Ride starts at 8:00 AM Minimum Pledge Requirement $300
EARLY BIRD FEE $30 (ENDS 1/11/08)
GENERAL FEE $40 (BY 4/18/08)
LATE FEE $50 (BY 5/12/08) Click here to register now!

Sunday 85 Miles - One day ride
Sunday May 18th - Starts at Pinelands Regional School
Enjoy the camaraderie of your friends, teammates, or family for a day of cycling or challenge yourself to a century! PLEASE NOTE THAT THE ONE DAY 85 MILE TOUR WILL HAVE TWO SCHEDULED SHUTTLE BUSES LEAVING CAPE MAY AT APPROXIMATELY 4:00 PM AND 6:00 PM ONLY.
Registration 7:00 AM Ride starts at 8:00 AM Minimum Pledge Requirement $300
EARLY BIRD FEE $30 (ENDS 1/11/08)
GENERAL FEE $40 (BY 4/18/08)
LATE FEE $50 (BY 5/12/08) Click here to register now!

50 Miles - One day ride
Saturday May 17th - Starts at Monmouth University
Sit back and enjoy the scenery. This tour will take you through beautiful beach front towns such as Belmar, Spring Lake and Brielle. Complete the tour at Monmouth University where you will enjoy a relaxing lunch!
Registration 8:00 AM Ride starts at 9:00 AM Minimum Pledge Requirement $200
EARLY BIRD FEE $20 (ENDS 1/11/08)
GENERAL FEE $30 (BY 4/18/08)
LATE FEE $40 (BY 5/12/08) Click here to register now!

25 Miles - Cycling for the whole family!
Saturday May 17th - Starts at Monmouth University
Perfect ride for your family or friends. Enjoy a charming ride through the Jersey Shore and return to Monmouth University for a festive lunch!
Registration 9:00 AM Ride starts at 10:00 AM Minimum Pledge Requirement $100
EARLY BIRD FEE $15 (ENDS 1/11/08)
GENERAL FEE $25 (BY 4/18/08)
LATE FEE $35 (BY 5/12/08) Click here to register now!

Stone Harbor

May 17th 2008 Community Yard Sale

Sponsored by the Garden Club

Sea Isle City

May 17th 2008 Garden Club Flower Sale
Municipal Marina Bldg., 346-42nd Place,
10AM-2PM, 263-1157

May 17th 2008
11AM-2PM $10 Pre-Registration, $15 Same Day, 390-7946

May 17-18 2008 17th Annual Bike MS "Coast to Coast" Bike Ride, 732-660-1005,Ext. 22

May 18th 2008 10th Annual Turtle Party
Lobster Loft, 42nd Place & The Bay,
6-10PM, 263-9643

It's Turtle Party Time in Sea Isle City The Beachcombing Guides of Sea Isle City will hold their 10th Annual Turtle Party (adults only) on Sunday, May 18, from 6:00 to 10:00 p.m. at Lobster Loft Restaurant. Tickets are $15 per person and include a delicious dinner, cash bar, fabulous door prizes, musical entertainment by popular Frank Brad, and dancing, according to Eleanor Moore, coordinator. The event benefits the Beachcombing Program, which every summer takes approximately 3000 children and adults on educational fun-filled tours of the beach.

Wildwood

May 17th 2008 Pirate Day with Captain Kidd

Parade registration 8:30 a.m. - 10 a.m. at Wildwoods Convention Center. Parade steps off at 10:15 a.m and proceeds north on Boardwalk to 16th St. Treasure hunt and special surprise appearances on the beach at end of parade. 609.522.2955 or www.northwildwood.com.

May 16th - 18th 2008 Spring Beach Jam

Beach Jam is enjoying its 13th year of providing scouts with an exciting, memorable and safe camping adventure. This unique event takes place on the beach at Morey's Piers with the beautiful Atlantic Ocean as a backdrop. Here's a look at some Beach Jam highlights:

* World Class Amusement Rides filled with exciting rides and attraction
* Camping on Wildwood's famous beach
* Live entertainment
* Beach bonfires
* Delicious catered meals
* Unlimited Boardwalk Tram Rides

For More Information and Pricing

GOOD TURN FOR AMERICA...LETS RAISE ONE TON OF FOOD

Help Morey's Piers support the United Way First Call for Help Food Pantry by bringing canned or non-perishable food to Beach Jam. And what's more? Scouts can log hours to Good Turn for America. Earn a Good Turn for America pin right here at Morey's Piers. In 2007, participating Beach Jam scouts raised nearly 1,500 pounds of food. This year, our goal is to raise ONE TON of food - that's 2,000 pounds. Together, we can do it!
For more information please visit www.goodturnforamerica.org.

Morey's Piers, Schellenger Avenue & the Boardwalk, Wildwood. Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts from around the country camp on the beach between Schellenger Avenue and Spencer Avenue. Entrance fee for participants. 609-522-3900 or www.MoreysPiers.com

Cape May

May 17 2008 Spring Festival Antiques & Collectibles Show

The Emlen Physick Estate, 1048 Washington St., becomes an outdoor marketplace as vendors from throughout the Northeast display their wares. 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Saturday, May 3. Free admission.
Sponsored by the Mid-Atlantic Center for the Arts (MAC).
For more information, call 609-884-5404 or 800-275-4278 or visit www.capemaymac.org.

May 17th 2008 at 6pm Sandra Bloodworth's Opening Night Artist Reception Party

SOMA NewArt GALLERY
Carpenter's Square Mall, 31 Perry Street
somagallery@verizon.net

There will be light food and drink catered by Frescos Restaurant.
Sandra Bloodworth's "Intimate Feasts" is an extraordinary presentation of paintings depicting shared moments through portraits of meals. Each painting evolves as a performance art piece, the food carefully prepared, the place settings sculptural, with strong colors and textures showcasing the dishes that are in themselves the work of art. Bloodworth focuses on capturing that moment in time, and creating on canvas a portrait of that special meal and occasion.

Ocean City

May 16, 2008 "Greece Now and Then" Gallery Show

1st - 28th - "Art on Asbury" Presents - oils, acrylic, watercolor paintings depicting Greek life by Anthe Capitan-Valais. A portion of sales goes to replant olive and chestnut trees that perished in the 2007 wildfires in Greece. These and over 200 art works by area artists are for sale. Gallery hours - 10am -5pm. Visit their new location at 608 Asbury Ave.. For more information call 609-814-0308 or visit www.oceancityfineartsleague.org

May 17, 2008 American Heart Assoc. Heart Walk

Registration begins at 9am at the Sports & Civic Center, 6th & Boardwalk, walk begins at 10:30am. Please plan to join us and be part of the American Heart Association's campaign to get America walking! Join the movement. Start today. Call 609-223-3762 or visit www.heartwalk.kintera.org/southernnjspring

May 17, 2008 Worlds of Wellness

Fri., 2pm - 7pm, Sat.,10am - 8pm at the Music Pier, Moorlyn Terr. & boardwalk. An event designed to celebrate, educate and move forward into more healthy lifestyles for the mind, body and soul. See interesting vendors from across the country. Experience awesome workshops and valuable giveaways. Register online at www.worldsofwellness.com for overnight packages, workshops and to attend the expo. For more information call 609-399-9136.

May 17, 2008 Spend the Day in New York City

Cost $30. Bus leaves the Ocean City Transportation Center, 10th & Haven at 8:00am. Departs New York City at 6:00pm. Register at City Hall Annex, 9th & Asbury. Mon. - Fri., 9am - 4:30pm. For more information contact the Division of Recreation at 609-525-9304.
May 18, 2008 Ocean City Triathlon

6am, begins at the Aquatic & Fitness Center, 17th & Simpson Ave.. ¼ mile Swim (Pool), 2 mile Run/16 mile Bike/2 mile Run. Also a Kids Course: 1/8 mile Swim (Pool), 1 mile Run/8 Mile Bike/ 1 mile Run. For more information call 609-525-9317.

Smithville

May 17th 2008 MAYFEST 10:00am - 5:00pm

Historic Smithville
Village Greene
Rt. 9 & Moss Mill Rd.
Phone: 609.748.6160

100 + juried Crafters will be in attendance plus... an International Food Court, live music, children's activities and of course our 60 Charming Shoppes. FREE admission.

Long Beach Island (LBI)

Saturday, May 17, 2008 Flea Market - Ladies Auxiliary Stafford Township Fire Co. # 1

9:00 am - 2:00 pm
Stafford Township Fire Company #1
Stafford Avenue
Manahawkin, NJ 08050

Ladies Auxiliary, Stafford Township Volunteer Fire Company Flea Market ~ Vendors Wanted ~ New items, used items, crafters, Demonstrators... Spring has sprung and it is time to clean out. Inside table or space (3x8) only $20.00. Outside space (10x10) only $20.00. Event will be rain or shine, no refunds. To rent a space or for additional information contact Deborah at 609-698-3041.
Saturday, May 17, 2008 LBI Historical Assoc. - Annual Spring Gala

6:00 pm

Buckalew's Restaurant
101 North Bay Avenue
Beach Haven, NJ 08008

Annual Spring Gala- Buckalew's Restaurant. Wine tasting, art auction, and chinese auction. Tickets $65.00 per person. Contact Floss (492-2602) or Sandy (492-6820) for additional information and tickets.
Saturday, May 17, 2008 Pet Day
9am - 3pm

Meadowedge Park
550 East Bay Ave
Barnegat, NJ 08005
609-698-0080 x 122

All day event for pets and their owners
Saturday, May 16 & 17, 2008 Ship Bottom Borough Wide Sidewalk Sale - All Day

Ship Bottom Borough
Ship Bottom, NJ 08008
(609) 494-2127
Ship Bottom Borough Wide Sidewalk Sale. Many of our Merchants will be participating in Sidewalk Sales. All Merchants are encouraged to participate.
Sunday, May 18, 2008 Garden State Philharmonic: Pop Goes the Pops! at 3:00 PM

Ocean First - STAC Theater
1000 McKinley Avenue
Manahawkin, NJ 08050
Phone: (609) 489-8600

Garden State Philharmonic: POP Goes the Pops! Tickets: $30 Adults, $35 Seniors & Students, $15 Children (12 & Under), $20 groups of 12 or more. Groups of 12 or more also benefit from receiving 1 complimentary chaperon or group leader ticket for every 15 tickets purchased.
Sunday, May 18, 2008 2nd Annual Barbecue & Bluegrass Jamboree

10:00 am - 5:00 pm
Tuckerton Seaport
120 West Main Street
Tuckerton, NJ 08087
Phone: (609) 296-8868
Kick off the summer with the down home sounds of Bluegrass and the sweet smell of barbeque in celebration of International Bluegrass Month and National Barbeque Month. Crafters, vendors, food & refreshments, family activities, demonstrations, boat rides and music by Home Cookin', Up & Running and more. General Admission: Adults: $8.00, SEnior 62 and older: $6.00, Children 5 and under: Free. Members - $6.00

Prague, Lubbeneau (Germany), Berlin, Copenhagen and Stockholm! Five doorbusters in a row have left Zelazowa weak and weary! The last five shows in brief… The Chateau Rouge in Prague is a wild place. The stage is located in the third sub-basement of a four hundred year old building. The standing room-only crowd made for quite a sweaty time, and with each climbing degree in the venue, so too did climb the concern with the lack of fire exits in such an old building. The crowd was packed in so tight that Zelazowa half joked about the possibility of crowd surfing to the stage just to start playing! Lubbeneau is a small community about an hour outside of Berlin and are high in the running for places challenging Poland for “most ravenous rock music fans.” After spending the day touring the Berlin Wall, the Bugatti dealership, and taking a lackluster boat tour (not as informative when you don’t understand the language), Zelazowa roared into the Duncker Club like an audio bulldozer. “Sweatiest crowd on record,” was uttered more than once by Bryan Weber as for once, the crowd’s clothes seemed soaked more to the bone than his after a performance. Wild moshing turned to several near-brawls before all physical confrontation or movement of any kind, for that matter, was extinguished only by the sheer number of people in the room.

All of those shows, as epic in the Zelazowa history as they were, could not compete against the majesty of their appearance in Copenhagen! Copenhagen is home not only to the best terrestrial chewing tobacco available, but also to the hottest women (as Terry Sharkey would soon find out). Zelazowa exploded all over the unsuspecting throng of spectators in the world famous Studenterhuset! Upon the completion of their set the band found themselves bombarded once again with autograph seekers and girls yielding digital cameras, eager to nuzzle up into the stinking, sweaty embrace of Zelazowa for one picture!

Terry Sharkey found himself in the crosshairs of cupid, but for only an evening, as one drink turned into two, two drinks turned into five and five drinks turned into Terry painting the town red with one particularly amorous femme! In all of his perspired, rugged disarray Terry made his way through the alleys and squares of Copenhagen, a bottle of wine in the crook of one arm, a beautiful Nordic angel in the other. Their night climaxed at a local jazz club where passion and embrace at last had to come to an end, the two parted ways and Terry clumsily made his way down the near empty streets of post dawn Copenhagen.

Two problems, of course, presented themselves. For one, the rest of Zelazowa was fast asleep in an upstairs room of the venue. Terry’s night of romance turned into standing in the middle of an empty street throwing pocket change skyward against the third floor window panes. Unfortunately for Terry, the windows in the Studenterhuset were thick, double paned glass and prevented anyone slumbering inside from hearing Terry’s call for assistance on the street below. Terry meandered the streets aimlessly for a time, thinking it might be favorable to simply walk the streets for several more hours, see the sights, have some breakfast, and catch up on sleep on the long drive that faced the band later in the morning.

This may have been fine, but two things that had been plaguing Terry for the last week or so once again reared their ugly heads. For one, in Prague Terry made a much needed stop at an ATM to withdraw some cash for food, drink, and fun. When attempting to withdraw 400 Crowns (the Czech currency), Terry accidentally hit an extra zero and withdrew 4,000 Crowns. This left him with a tremendous amount of money that could only be spent in one country, and since then the band had been having trouble finding currency exchange places and thus had been limited in how much money they could spend in certain places. 4,000 Czech Crowns in pocket and no way to buy breakfast! The other debilitating personal plague was the severe lack of sleep that a professionally touring drummer endures, which led to the second of the major problems.

With no energy left to stay awake, and no usable currency to kill time with, Terry found himself falling asleep on foot. His search for breakfast soon turned into a search for an empty park bench or a clean patch of dirt under a bush. Every time a suitable resting place was found, it seems, Terry was tortured by a new, unexpected challenge. Bums and homeless rule the early morning streets and despite his ripped jeans and wild, unkempt, up-all-night appearance Terry still looked like a wet-behind-the-ears, displaced tourist who got locked out of his hotel. Prime target for bums, to say nothing of the local authorities who would probably frown on someone sleeping the day through on a park bench in hip, central Copenhagen.

Desperate, tired and alone, Terry made his way back to the venue once more, searching high and low once again for a suitable sleeping habitat. The fruitlessness of his previous search came about only due to his earlier strategy of only searching low. With his new strategy that included high a surprising discovery shone down on him from above. Scaffolding!

Inside the venue, Ian and Kyle awoke around 9am to make a trek to the car and pay for several more hours of parking. As they opened the stage door to go back inside and get a few more hours of sleep, they were startled by an excited voice calling down to them from above. As they looked up they saw the gleeful and excited face of Terry as he scrambled up from the nest he had created for himself on a landing of the scaffolding. The scaffolding made for safe, suitable, and surprisingly comfortable accommodations that morning, and though Terry was far from well-rested, he was more energized after catching several hours of sleep skyward.

The following show in Stockholm, Sweden was another delightful success. With a sensational venue, the spectacular hospitality of the incomparable DJ Dake, and another adoring crowd, the Stockholm experience was marred only by the shameful lack of available alcohol after midnight. Liquor and convenience stores all seemed to be closed, as was the hotel bar, and room service refused to deliver a bottle of Jack Daniels to the post show party in Kyle Weber’s room. That is, until Life Legend, and Zelazowa touring partner Chris Gannett was called in from the bullpen to put on a fireworks display for the unsuspecting, unwilling staff. With his svelte lyrical moves, Gannett was able to persuade the room service attendant into submission by providing him and the late night staff with gyros from the nearby kebab stand. Within a half hour, Gannett returned to the hotel with two grocery bags full of gyros, a bottle of Jack Daniels mysteriously appeared at Kyle Weber’s door, and a bacchanal of Greek proportions ensued. By dawn the room was in shambles, and the group made zig-zagging courses back to their rooms smelling heavily of aged Tennessee whiskey and cucumber sauce.

A few hours of sleep were all that rewarded the men as they were once again stirred from their slumbers by the beckon of another tremendously long day of travel. As I write, the band is in a collective stupor, regaining their composure after seven hard hours in the car on their way to Oslo, Norway where they will play tonight. The hotel has 24 hour room service and there is a kebab stand on the corner. It is going to get rough.

After a night of opening their hearts, minds, and about 10 liters of German blonde, Zelazowa made their way across the German countryside to their next show in Schweinfurt. Having spent the previous evening mulling over the state of the tour, and blowing of some necessary steam, the band was still feeling a little low as they once again splashed their way through the torrential downpours and murky days that had plagued them since Marseilles, France. This added to the overall feeling of gloom among the travelers especially in Germany where Zelazowa found themselves cursed by a demon ghost they ran over in the car on their way to Munich.

Driving through the dark, wet night, they were confronted by the mysterious apparition of a human in the middle of the road, waving, standing in the dual headlight beams of the Zelazowa van, and an oncoming truck. As the two automobiles passed the figure vaporized, revealing nothing having actually been standing in or on the side of the road. A cold chill passed through the car, and since that instance the band seemed to be cursed with rain. Not so much with rain, as they had been accustomed to it over the previous week or so, but rain that literally would start when any member of the group individually, or as a whole would step outside. The rain would then stop when the last member of the group would join the others indoors. This was the way of things for at least one full day and night. Luckily, prior to leaving the Munich area, Bryan Weber checked his e-mail and found a Certificate of Completion from his recent correspondence course through the Michael Schumacher School of Driving. As we rocketed through Germany on the Autobahn, at face distorting speeds, faster than a minivan should be physically capable of achieving, it seems that the elder Weber was able to escape the curse with sheer speed made capable by state of the art Peugeot engineering!

However, the ghouls did persist. As mentioned in early literary ramblings, stereotypes exist for a reason, and I had a funny feeling that there would be some memorable local encounters as we passed an enormous nuclear power plant on the way into town. Call it American ignorance, as I know many will, but let me cut through the baloney and just say that I have never seen a more discombobulated town of people in my entire life! The haircuts, the fashions, and the dental situation were truly remarkable. A beautiful little town, but filled with kids that were just a few beats off of the current fashion trends of western culture. Picture Paris if it were located in West Virginia. We sat in the van for an hour waiting to meet the other band for that night at the H&M store in the center of town. As we made these curious observations of the local culture, we also became mildly alarmed to realize we just drove onto the set of The Truman Show. The people in Schweinfurt seemed to be on a mechanized loop. Every five or ten minutes we would see the same cycle of people walk past our car, looking at us ever more curiously as their cycles repeated, probably because we were the only stationary people in the town. It was this series of observations that convinced us that we had just arrived in the subject of an unreleased Stephen King novel about East German zombie vampires, and when Terry ventured off by himself for a while we made sure that we checked the back of his neck for holes upon returning.

Soon, thankfully, we met up with Sid from the band Kojak, with whom Zelazowa was sharing the stage that night. As the bands loaded into the venue we found out that Schweinfurt is actually a big US military town with a large base nearby. We were also warned that the women in the town were extremely horny, but to keep in mind that the age of consent is fourteen, and not to trust girls hitting on you before midnight because that was the curfew for individuals under the age of sixteen. Helpful advice, but bigger worries existed in the veritable powder-keg of drunk, horny soldiers in an Irish bar on a Friday night.

The evening was a blast, and the wild success that Zelazowa needed after a rough week. Free drinks flowed for the band on behalf of the venue and Zelazowa was forced to start their set late because so many soldiers were buying a large amount of merchandise before the band even took the stage! Upon the commencement of the set the room was packed with people and all eyes were on Zelazowa for the duration of their performance. More free drinks flowed heavily afterwards and we met and made many new friends, including Andrea, the best American bar tender in Germany and her husband Steven! Kudos to Andrea for keeping us sloppy drunk all night and introducing us to the mysterious local favorite, an inky green shot called The Leprechaun. Needless to say, there was plenty of inky green vomit on the floor by the end of the night, but thankfully not courtesy of Zelazowa!

The following day brought wonder and bewilderment as we traveled ten hours from Schweinfurt to Skarzcysko, Poland. For the adventuresome sort, drive four hours at speeds upwards of 100 miles per hour on the Autobahn, then cross the border into Poland. A greater culture shock cannot be achieved. Basically, the highway ends upon crossing the border, and so does the concept of “lanes.” Poland has adopted the laissez faire concept of traffic patterns. When the large highway system ends at the border, it is replaced by a large three lane road. Generally, you drive on the right, and the oncoming traffic drives on the far left. The middle lane is the “anything goes lane.” Cars from either lane can utilize the middle lane at any time and are only required to move back to the far right lane in the event of imminent collision. Sometimes you can even fit two cars in the middle lane, driving next to each other or driving at one another with more traffic next to them in the “traditional lanes.”

First impressions of Poland, followed by second and third impressions having traveled through a tremendous portion of the country over the last two days, can be summed up in describing it as the “Wild West of Europe.” The country smells like it is on fire with smoldering bonfire pits dotting the countryside and thick musky smoke pouring out of most houses. Judging from the rustic nature of the buildings, roads, villages and even cities one might deduce that the folks in Poland simply burn a lot of firewood and as the country is not only far from the forefront of major western economies, but just coming into spring and still warming their homes with crackling fires. Wrong!

Our friend and host for the evening, Mariel, explained that in Poland there is a national law forbidding the cutting of any trees. This, as we were told, goes back to old pagan traditions of worshipping the trees, and admittedly, Poland is certainly covered with dense evergreen forests. The fires and the overwhelming Apocalypse Now styled smokiness of the landscape comes from this particular time of the year when folks do their spring cleaning and traditionally burn all of the dirt and detritus accumulated from the previous year. This is a tradition that I personally would like to subscribe to, but in America you would be shunned, scorned, and fined for abusing the “carbon footprint.” To add, the restrictions on tree cutting, I can only assume, has led the country to being covered in the most unusual telephone poles I have ever seen. They are thin, square poles of reinforced concrete and are often coupled or tripled together to form odd A-frame structures. Other than large metal power line towers, this is the Polish Telephone Pole. To find a wooden pole supporting power lines is a very rare sight, indeed!

So, to recap. Highways are not very popular in Poland, and are replaced by a very lackadaisical system of driving restrictions, allowing one to basically drive as fast as they want, in whatever lane they want, and to pass anytime, anywhere. The Polish are so accustomed to this that if you start to pass someone on a road of any size, they just pull over and drive on the side to make it easier for you to avoid a head-on collision! Also, the national restriction on the cutting of trees makes for some very dense forests. With the combination of the very few major highways and the tree laws, you find yourself driving through some dense forests with rutted, muddy roads leading into dark groves of conifers. It is at this point you become accustomed to one of the most unique cultural phenomena that I have ever seen. Forest prostitutes.

Picture leggy, attractive women with bottle tans, dressed to the nines. High heels, skimpy, sleek mini skirts, expensive hair styles, and pricey clothes, if a bit outdated in the sense of current western fashion. The kind of woman you would see at a huge nightclub in a big city, or at the very least, the kind of hooker you would see at an expensive hotel bar, cruising the out-of-town businessmen drinking martinis alone. Except they are standing at the corner of a muddy cross road in a dense evergreen forest. This sounds like a joke, or a gross exaggeration, but it is rampant! We have seen dozens of these forest prostitutes in just two days of driving through Poland, and have even developed a sense of when we are entering a Blowjob Thicket and the ability to call them out before we have spotted our first harlot. The only explanation I have for this is the aforementioned combination of no highways, tree laws, and the close proximity of Mother Russia where we all know there is no mafia presence, and even if there were, the mafia would never deal in sex slavery.

The first ever Zelazowa performance in Poland was in the mid-sized town of Skarczysko. The town is easily one of the most unsettling places I have ever seen outside of genuine third world countries. Picture a scene from a movie where soldiers make their way carefully through a bombed out town. Empty, half destroyed buildings everywhere. Smashed out windows in almost every structure. Very little grass or foliage of any kind. Colorless except for large amounts of graffiti and concert posters, and an overwhelming feeling of desperate loneliness permeates the community. I felt very self conscious walking down the street with a video camera that was likely worth more than most of the buildings, and tried to keep my voice and American language as low and inaudible as possible as I only had to suspect that we might not be welcome as foreigners in a community like this. I could not have been more wrong.

As the sun fell in the sky, the streets lit up with people. Not that it became a bustling metropolis, but the town certainly became alive with friendly groups many types of people heading out to enjoy their Saturday night. Terry and Ian came across a very nice Chinese restaurant and a gorgeous little jazz club with some of the most beautiful, and friendly women we have encountered on the tour to date. If we had not seen the women standing their in their extremely hip and sexy clothes, or spoke to them, we never would have looked into the windows of these establishments on what otherwise seemed like a dangerous, empty street of closed shops and empty houses.

A similar sense of being “out of place” surrounded the venue, Klub Semafor. To see it from the outside, a broken down club in a row of dilapidated, empty warehouses with collapsed roofs. To walk inside, a very large, high tech, up-to-date multi-leveled rock club and a more than comforting atmosphere compared to most of the places a touring band encounters. As soon as the doors opened the club filled up with friendly, excited young people. Zelazowa put on a wild performance to a throng of kids moshing wildly and climbing the railing in front of the stage to get as close to the band as possible! Granted, they did this for all of the bands performing that night, but either way, a compelling testament to the appreciation for rock and roll music in Poland!

After the show, what we originally interpreted as a general hesitance for people to talk to out of place foreigners who could not speak the language vaporized like the German rain demon that tried in vain to curse our travels! Between leaving the stage after the performance, and leaving the venue at the end of the night, Zelazowa was rarely found with a moment alone. People bought as many t-shirts, CDs and DVDs from the band as they bought rounds of drinks for them, and asked for even more autographs than that! Bryan and Terry were especially bombarded with attention from adoring female fans, and we all found ourselves in long winded conversations with people that could not speak a word of English! The language barrier simply did not matter to them! They were glad to tell you what was on their mind and ask you questions even if our responses were hardly understood, if at all.

Altogether, the Polish people have been absolutely the most friendly and the best crowd we have seen on this tour! As our friend Mariel told us, after almost 300 solid years of oppressed rule before the fall of Communism, the Polish people relish in their freedom, do what they want that makes them happy, and generally enjoy life! Nostrovia to the Polish!

Speaking of Nostrovia, which is the Polish word for “cheers” (if I am spelling it right), the Polish love their liquor. Coming from Pennsylvania, it is unique to travel to other US states and find that liquor and beer is available at convenience stores and supermarkets. For a real treat, come to Poland! Every major gas station is equipped with a full liquor bar. Picture a large, up to date, clean and friendly gas station like Sheetz or Wawa, or a large BP with a fully functional bar inside. Of the few that do not have full bars, they are stocked better than most liquor stores and the selection of beers and liquors outnumbers the shelf space and selection of other “normal” beverages and snacks. This is to say nothing of the countless smaller fuel stations and snack shops on the side of every road. Good thing there are few restrictions on driving procedures since everyone looks like they are drunk at the wheel to begin with!

Currently Zelazowa is in Prague. Having only been here a few hours it is already the most stunningly beautiful city I have seen on the tour. Prague makes Paris look like a dogfight pit. People speak English everywhere, and the women here are absolutely beyond description! I have never seen more beautiful women in one place. Tonight the band plays the first of two shows on this tour at the incredibly cool Chateau Rouge, followed by an off day tomorrow that should yield some incredible photos and video! Keep posted for another update soon!

PS – Thanks for everyone who is reading and following along with us, and thanks for your patience. Poland is also in dire need of wireless Internet signals!

]]> http://zelazowa.wordpress.com/?p=18 Fri, 25 Apr 2008 11:26:01 +0000 zelazowa http://zelazowa.nl.wordpress.com/2008/04/25/upcoming-tourdates-what-dreams-may-come/ Thanks to all who have been reading and chiming in on the blog! The Spring 2008 European Tour (notice all of the capital letters, that means it's "official") is only about half over so there is plenty more mayhem to come from the maniacal men from Pennsylvania-dutch country! Expect interesting experiences and cameo appearances from "Life Legend" Chris Gannett and the illustrious London based artist Matthew Jackson. Here are the remaining tour dates as they stand right now! We hope to see some of you at the shows!

Also, keep posted for our new, ongoing photo series of Ian Sharkey's massive, Derek Smalls-style mutton chops! All kinds of new photos should be posted in the next day or so!

April 25 - 9pm, Fiddlers Green Irish Pub
Schwinfurt, Germany

April 26 - 8pm, Klub Semafor
Skarzysko, Poland

April 27 - 8pm, Progresja
Warsaw, Poland

April 28 - 8pm, Chateau Rouge
Prague, Czech Republic

April 30 - 9pm, Kulturhof
Lubbenau, Germany

May 1 - 10pm, Duncker Club
Berlin, Germany

May 2 - 8pm, Studenterhuset
Copenhagen, Denmark

May 4 - 8pm, Mosebacke
Stockholm, Sweden

May 5 - 9pm, Garage Oslo
Oslo, Norway

May 8 - 8pm, Chateau Rouge
Prague, Czech Republic

May 9 - 8:30pm, Jugendzentrum Laatzen
Hanover, Germany

May 12 - 8pm, Le Gambetta
Paris, France

May 16 - 9pm The Khyber (HOMECOMING SHOW!)
Philadelphia, Pa. USA

Friday night brought the band to Barcelona, but did not bring Barcelona to the band. A menial turnout, a bizarre sleaze-lounge in the basement of a skyscraper with a hidden entrance, and a venue that claimed ignorance to the contract that guaranteed us complimentary food and beverages were just a few of the continuing problems that plagued Zelazowa in Spain (sidenote: Kyle confirms no forthcoming Spanish tourdates!). Despite the ongoing Curse of Spain, the band enjoyed a good turnout from some high school friends who happened to be in Barcelona, a sensational wireless Internet signal, and a legendary bi/curious/lesbian encounter on the part of none other than Terry Sharkey.

To say Spain as a whole was a disappointment would be an understatement. To recap; the trip to Spain included a gig that never got booked in Madrid, followed by another night in Madrid at one of the largest concert venues in the city. Despite the superior venue, the show was plagued by poor planning on behalf of the organizers, a lousy slot in the billing for Zelazowa, an indignant crowd, and a smashed Heneken bottle mouth that nearly resulted in a tour-halting injury for Ian Sharkey. This was followed by a relatively good gig and sleeping accommodations in Gandia that was marred only by Gandia being a resort town and this being the “off season”, and of course, Kyle Weber’s ill fated sleeping/swimming and toilet paper excursion.

The gig in Barcelona started with Bryan and Terry going on a 3 kilometer walk through the heart of Barcelona to find an old high school friend at a bar called Berlin. After walking this tremendous distance Terry and Bryan arrived at the Berlin bar only to find it empty. With the help of a bartender who spoke decent English, it was established that they were really looking for the other Berlin bar that just happened to be on the same street, 3 kilometers back from where they came from, and consequently right next to the venue where they were to play later. They made the wise decision to hop a cab back to the other Berlin bar only to arrive and find their friend waving wildly to them from the front door. It so happened that Kyle Weber had been calling their friend, wondering where they were, because Zelazowa’s set had been surprisingly been moved up to an hour earlier than expected and everyone at the club was waiting for Bryan and Terry to arrive so they could perform!

Zelazowa played a particularly stellar set, geared up by the benefit of a large stage and excellent sound in the venue. Upon completion of the set, with little else to do and a club unwilling to provide free beer to the performers, Kyle and Ian retreated to the city street where they drank wine from the bottle in the backseat of the van. Terry found his way into the netherworld of the Barcelona booze scene, accompanied by “Soups” Campbell, one of their old high school friends.

Terry’s bar tour took him to a series of late night establishments, each wilder and with a more eccentric clientele than the last! Finally Terry found himself in the company of Amelie and Celene at what could only be described as an S&M “theme bar.” Amelie and Celene were, in a manner of speaking, “best friends…with benefits”, as Terry soon found out from his unique perch directly between them at the bar. Soon Terry found himself up to his eyeballs in absinthe, tequila, and lesbians. Amelie and Celene did not seem to find any discomfort of inconvenience in Terry’s position between them and as the night wore on, continued to escalate their level of physical satisfaction, never quite giving Terry the attention they heaped upon eachother, but also never really asking Terry to fully move or really become a part of the passion. Despite this confusion and lack of real payoff, what could a man in Terry’s position really do but stay put. “Altogether it was pretty cool,” said Terry Sharkey. “Until I really had to pee, but there are some situations where you just grit your teeth and hold it.”

Perhaps the only thing more interesting than Amelie and Celene’s physical attraction and lack of inhibition was their personal dynamic. Though they did not know eachother as young girls, they were both French twenty-somethings living in Spain, and employed in a working class factory town on the outskirts of Barcelona. Amelie worked at one of the large, local sand plants. Basically a sprawling complex that specialized in crushing dirt and rock into sand. Celene worked in what Amelie referred to (numerous times, in English) as “the irony factory.” There seemed to be some malcontent from Celene in that she worked in a factory that took rocks and made them into dirt, while her lover/friend worked in a factory that took dirt and made them into new rocks. Perhaps the humor and/or sarcasm coming from them was lost in translation, but even in the lust of their passion this tension came to a searing boil from time to time. French concrete lesbians. What else can you say?

Saturday’s travel took Zelazowa to the gorgeous coastal city of Marseilles, France. After one of the most beautiful drives into any city, anywhere, Zelazowa arrived at the venue only to find themselves faced with a potentially tense evening. The venue itself was a real challenge to locate. One cannot overstate how far, not only in physical distance, removed it was from wherever the “hip, happening, heart” of Marseilles was. The venue was located in the darkest, furthest, hidden corner of an aging industrial park in a decidedly “working class” area of the city. The process of locating the club was not helped by the lack of any visible signage anywhere on the “building.” I use the descriptive word building in it’s most literal definition as the club was really, more accurately, built into what was probably a small warehouse or garage. Alarm bell number one.

Alarm bell number two rang when it was quickly revealed that the place was the home to local factions of several French motorcycle gangs and apparently a pretty lively heavy metal scene. The room had obviously seen it’s fair share of hard rocking and hard living, but shockingly had some very clean bathrooms considering the surroundings. The bathrooms were also stocked with another Zelazowa-first; tubeless toilet paper. Basically toilet paper that rolled all the way into itself, in one solid mass, with no cardboard tube in the middle.

As the night progressed we enjoyed free Guinness beer, while anxiously watching for an audience to arrive. The turnout was fair, but alarm bell number three rang when it became obvious that many of the people in attendance were not just there for the music. A steady stream of people made quick business of going into a private upstairs area, only to return with what I can only describe as “a bad case of wormlegs” repeatedly, throughout the duration of the evening. One may deduce from this observation (and a duffel bag of what looked like heroin) that there were some illegal activities going on up there, but who am I to say they didn’t just have a trampoline party going backstage?

Zelazowa played another ballbuster of a set, to great appreciation of the French, heavy metal bikers who scrambled to buy CDs and DVDs after the set. Despite the alarm bells, the awkward location and suspicious business practices, everyone was extremely nice as we have become accustomed to during our travels in France. The owner and bartenders were so pleased with Zelazowa’s unique brand of imported intensity that drinks were suddenly being thrust into all of our hands faster than we could drink them. During one ten minute period Ian, Terry and me were given three Jaeger-bombs and two very expensive, very potent French beers! The alcohol continued to pour like a massive waterfall and we soon found ourselves enjoying glass after glass of what the owner described as the “nectar of the Gods”, a unique and smooth liquor that he simply identified as “honey wine.” From there we enjoyed stories and photos from his motorcycle trip across the United States, and found out that at that point in the night, he had actually been awake since Wednesday (three days prior). We clarified this, suspecting a miscommunication due to the language barricade, and also learned, proving our wormleg suspicions, that this was achieved by the massive physical intake of Crystal Meth. Then we enjoyed two delicious, free pizzas!

One of the additional major downsides to the evening was the fact that Zelazowa played for free. The venue simply did not pay the band because they said the crowd was not big enough. A reasonable excuse, except in the case of legitimate businesses having a cover charge at the door that the band would reap, this venue paid no attention to such things. Later we learned that it was a good idea to take all of the free liquor and pizza. A recent performer, angered by the club’s refusal to pay him and unwilling to back down from his insistence of compensation, found himself with a broken spine and a mouthful of gums. Everyone knows it’s hard to eat free pizza with a mouthful of gums, so in that case it was a lose-lose scenario for the poor guy!

The night was spent our friend Pascal’s apartment, drinking the free case of Heineken beer that the club had given us. The morning was spent getting berated by a furious French grandmother who was extremely dissatisfied with the level of noise we conjured up in her normally silent apartment building. A four hour trip to Lyon, France was spent nursing hangovers and digestive systems tortured by the French diet of 100% all foods made with ham and cheese. The jubilation we all felt welling up within us upon our arrival to Lyon was quickly and fully quelled by the discovery of the next venue. A big concrete room in the dark, back corner of an aging industrial park, apparently home to the local punk and heavy metal scene, closely resembling the Neo-Nazi punk concert scene in the film American History X, and presided over by a father-like figure resembling the similar character in that film. The delightful lack of swastikas and a delicious spread of Heineken beer and home-made quiche was countered only by the lack of running water, a backstage littered with graffiti (56 genital illustrations that I could see) and lit with one flickering lightbulb.

After a stressful week on the road, and some rather bizarre experiences, the night’s performance left something to be desired. Despite an off night and a fairly poor turnout, once again we are being treated (as this post is being written and posted) to more gracious French hospitality! At the moment Terry Sharkey is eating cheese he describes as “straight mildew” and our hosts just arrived with three large grocery bags full of wine, beer and liquor. It should be an interesting night.

Madrid. Madid. Madon't.

We'll leave it at that.

Madrid in one word: Unfinished. In the words of Ian Sharkey, “one of the oldest cities in the world, yet it’s not yet done being built.” Every third building feels as if it is not in a state of disrepair, but new, yet not finished or rushed to be completed. Cement hangs off of brick walls in messy globs, unfinished by the masons, streets that should be asphalt in any other city are quickly poured concrete. None of the trees planted along the sidewalks are level with the sidewalk itself, making it easy to fall into an eight inch deep hole along main, bustling boulevards. Wireless Internet is virtually unheard of in Madrid. If you ask any passerby where there is wireless Internet, they look at you like you’re the crazy one, even if they understand your absolute destruction of their language. I never thought I would see a society get so impatient and aggravated at foreigners who cannot speak their language! The French either understand English or gladly work with you to figure things out, but the Spanish seem to relish in your discomfort when they make it clear as a bell that you are incompetent and foolish.

I also never thought I would see a city where parking is at more of a premium than in Madrid. What a mess! Parking in the center of Paris was easier to find than in Madrid! The best thing about this scenario is that parking is such a fucking wreck in Madrid that double and triple parking is perfectly acceptable! Numerous police cars will pass you as you double or triple park on one lane, one-way streets and pay no mind to your transgression! They simply don’t care! The mentality in Madrid is, “if you can stop the vehicle somewhere, more power to you!”

The trip from Bilbao to Madrid should have been a four hour journey. Unfortunate for us, the TomTom GPS navigation machine was updated with completed highway information that was for a highway that was regrettably not yet completed. We ping-ponged back and forth between two toll road exits a number of times before being alerted by a toll booth operator, alarmed by the sheer number of tolls we paid directly to her, that “those things don’t work here” (in Spanish). Our course of travel was redirected by the friendly toll taker and a long, winding journey up and through the mountains of the Spanish countryside commenced! The views were magnificent, but the extra time it took to complete the journey left something to be desired. The highlight of the journey was the sexy cashier who checked us out, while getting checked out herself, at the truck stop on the highway. Freckled, friendly, brunette, chucklesome. Obviously not from Madrid.

After a long, stressful journey, we were not greeted by a relaxing, well coordinated evening. We were dumped like lost children at the mall into the concert hall of a curious rock-hostel and left to wait for our parents while watching the gigantic projected video of an unusual Living Colour DVD. What followed was a long, confusing, winding journey through mind numbing traffic, only to arrive at the venue to find that the club had apparently closed down. After sitting (double parked on a one-way street, to no mind of the police or anyone else) for an hour, the owner of the club arrived only to reveal that the booking agent for the show had actually been fired two months ago. Curiously enough, the guy continued to act as the booking agent up until the day of the show, unbeknownst to the owner of the club who arrived, surprised at a number of rock bands waiting at his doorstep. The consensus from the owner and staff was that, in the words of an English speaking rock band girlfriend, “they would prefer that you not perform.” How delightful.

What ensued was a lengthy trip back to the rock –hostel where we were staying for the night. Apparently the bands that screwed us on the gig for the night did not feel inclined to invite us to stay at their homes, or provide us with a hot meal, pillows, and only with an argument did they provide us with a few clean sheets on which to spread upon the beer stained, cigarette butt burned concrete floor in the rock-hostel. To clarify, the “rock hostel” is actually a large building that serves as not only rehearsal space for numerous Spanish bands, but also a venue, a music school, a bar, studio, and for at least this night, a temporary abode for the Gentlemen Z. A pretty cool establishment all-in-all, but not the best sleeping accommodations. Morning could not come soon enough as we all slept in one tight, cramped line, like Vienna Sausages in a tin. No pillows, no blankets, Zac de la Rocha style; “No rest! No rest!”

One of the most amusing events of our trip, to date, was the discovery of the first beer vending machine any of us had yet to experience. It served Amstel and another curiously deplorable beer, as well as Diet Pepsi. What a treat! Ian and Terry Sharkey enjoyed numerous Cervesas a la Machina while Kyle and Bryan accompanied someone to procure sheets for our night’s stay. Upon their return a late night dinner of whiskey, beer, and pollo kabobs at a nearby restaurant preceded a night of terror and Amstel y Cruzcampo beer at the rock-hostel.

On a particularly disturbing run to the beer vending machine Terry and Ian were confronted with numerous Spanish demons, turning lights on and off as they passed through the dark hallways, and flickering the lights with each coin drop into the Cerveza Machina! Luckily, all of this was caught on video tape and should be enjoyed thoroughly in the band’s forthcoming feature length tourfilm, Convoi Exceptionnel.

Tomorrow brings a new day, more Cerveza a la Machina, and a gig at what appears to be the largest venue in Madrid before ascending to stadium level. Numerous record company reps are expected at the 2008 LH Magazine Music Festival, in addition to MTV and other notable media outlets. We’ll see what happens. Today we were supposed to have a show, but that didn’t happen. Fuck it. This is Africa.

After three days of partying, and one raucous opening night in Paris, Zelazowa hit the wall hard. The “morning after” brought pounding heads, late sleeping, and sore throats. After a brisk morning walk to the currency exchange booth, crepes and jambon sandwiches, and espresso, the band made haste to get on the road to the next show in Nantes. The most interesting event of the morning occurred as Terry and Bryan were walking down the street near Notre Dame, fruit-dripping crepes and jambon baguettes in hand, when a particularly persistent gypsy began chasing them down the street pleading, “Do you speak English? Francais? PLEASE! I NEED MONEY TO EAT!” Not to be swayed by this very convincing display of “woe”, Bryan escaped the gypsy, running with a mouth full of fruit crepe and his hands covering his wallet as Terry chased close behind screaming “La fin du monde! La fin du monde!”

The road to the second show in Nantes brought forth another Weber Brothers Quad Pack, including a landmark performance by Bryan Weber as he achieved his second consecutive “Quadruple Crown” at a “stand up toilet” in a highway rest stop. The ride was highlighted by Terry Sharkey’s purchase of the most recent issue of Guts Magazine, and the ongoing game of Would You? and What Decade? Would You? of course, being the “quick call” game of, “would you bed that chick”, and What Decade? being the game of calling out “what decade would you have bedded that older woman who is obviously past her prime?” What Decade?, mind you, goes both ways in that you can call out the decade you would expect to bed a very young lady who has yet to hit her prime. The further in the future your call is, the bigger the honor is to the girl’s expected “staying power.”

Nantes brought forth a very classy venue, La Scene. A cool atmosphere, a tremendous backstage and VIP catering (quiche, cous cous, cold beer) were just a prelude to an explosive set, not only by Zelazowa, but the prolific Paris and Nantes (respectively) bands, Timeout and Melocoton. Zelazowa finished the set, to the demanding cheers of an encore, with a rare, thunderous, wall shaking performance of “Propeller”, from their debut album, Rest Easy.

Prior to the show we filmed another tremendous episode of Historic Walking Tour With the Sharkeys for the forthcoming European tourfilm. In this episode, Terry Sharkey took us on a special journey, through a torrential downpour, to the little known birthplace of Paul Reubens (Pee Wee’s Playhouse, Blow, 30 Rock). The band Timeout was plagued before even hitting the road from Paris to Nantes. Just as they were leaving, the driver of the car unwittingly backed up, Tommy Boy style, with the passenger door open, bending the door backwards on its hinges, and thus rendering it useless. The door hung free on its hinges for the entirety of the cold, rainy for hour drive. Timeout bass player Yann arrived with his hands and arms sore and blistered from holding the door shut for four hours at speeds in excess of 110kmh, cold air and rain wreaking havoc on his fingers. Despite this potentially tour halting auto damage/ personal injury, Yann put on a stellar performance, and was relieved of hit door bracing duties for the next day’s travel to Rennes.

The show itself was surprising in that Zelazowa sold a sizable portion of their merchandise to a crowd of less than 100 people. In said crowd, was included one of Bryan Weber’s newest lifelong fans, Constance, of late night Paris street, and opening night at Le Zebre fame. She kept her distance, and her libido in check, however, and her presence was easily explained by the relatively short drive of four hours from Paris to Nantes.

The after-party was uneventful, as Zelazowa collectively clocked out early due to three days of traveling, partying, and playing having finally caught up with them. The night was spent sleeping on the floor in the apartment of Melocoton guitarist Remy and his wife Claire. The morning brought a breakfast feast for the Gentlemen Z on behalf of Remy and Claire. Homemade strawberry jam, honey, fresh baguettes and instant coffee, after which Zelazowa said their thankful goodbye’s and headed out for a short one hour drive from Nantes to Rennes.

Upon arriving in Rennes, with time to kill we patronized the local Leffe Brewhouse where we imbibed a stellar amount of Stella Artois and Leffe brews. A Sharkey Tour was out of the question due to massive levels of rain pissing from the heavens! Our exit from the Leffe brewehouse was hasty in anticipation of our load-in time at the legendary Mondo Bizarro club. Perhaps too hasty as myself and Kyle put off a well needed lieu visit in lieu of our arrival at the club, where bathrooms should have been plentiful. The reality of the situation was the club management arriving very late, leaving all three bands (Zelazowa, Timeout, Borgo) standing on the street. Thus, leaving Kyle and myself standing with our knees crossed and our hands between our legs. A dramatic piss run through the empty suburban Rennes parking lots and bushes ensued where Kyle opened stream in full view of suburbanites and a public playground. My search for a discreet corner ended with a piss stream emerging just prior to pant de-zipping whereupon I was forced to open a firehouse-like stream in full view of passing motorists on a busy highway. This in turn was on the opposite side of the aforementioned playground. Luckily it was Sunday and no children were trodding about, as Rennes is a very religious, and thus very sleepy town on the “day of rest.”

The show at Mondo Bizarro was preceded by day two of epic, pre-show, backstage epicurean delight! Fresh Brie, sausage, and 10 pounds of fresh baguettes awaited us in addition to four cases of beer! Needless to say, a feast ensued and Zelazowa took the stage fat and happy.

Despite being a Sunday, the show was a wild success. Preceded by stellar opening sets from Timeout and Borgo, the crowd remained in taut anticipation of the much hyped American rockers! Zelazowa took the stage to raucous applause and proceeded to rock the teeth out of the gathered throng. Upon the culmination of the show Zelazowa was bombarded with autographs, t-shirt requests, and at least one smitten lady who sent her “brother” to advance her “private feelings” to Bryan.

And so ended two more days of displaced Americans performing rock music in France. A moment of tension occurred only when the Borgo drummer took his button-up shirt off to reveal an anti-Bush t-shirt. He apologized for wearing the shirt only to be silenced by the deafening roar of cheers from Bryan Weber. The Borgo fellows then challenged the Zelazowa crew to a rock off. After proudly displaying his prized anti-Bush t-shirt, Bryan Weber accepted the challenge that the band who absolutely rocked the hardest that evening would give up their anti-Bush garb. The evening ended with the Borgo drummer stripping his shirt off to award Bryan only to be refused by Bryan who insisted that he keep the shirt to “represent overseas.”

Tomorrow brings an off day. A comforting thought before you consider the eleven hour drive to Madrid. What follows is three days in Spain. Bummer. Sorry this post was such a downer compared to the first few monumental days of the tour. But consider that the next three shows are in Madrid and Barcelona. Needless to say, the cameras will be rolling.

What more to say? Opening night in Paris. Deal with it.

Opening night brought a day to preceed itself. The band started the morning with double espresso's at the local Tabac. Bryan countered this with, not only a fresh squeezed $6.50 orange juice, but with his part of a "Weber Brother Quad-Pack." The "Quad Pack" stands not only for testicles between them, but their monumental effort in producing four stools a piece in "the City of Light." Bryan's started before the completion of his fresh squeezed OJ. In short, he smoked out the overweight Frenchman who made the mistake of enjoying his jambon y poulet y fromage baguette (saquette) near the stool receptacle.

What followed the monument of creation, sculpted by the elder Weber, was a knock down, drag out fight between the Cousins Sharkey. Apparently, Terry made the mistake of awaking from his slumber in the wee hours of the morning, abandoning his post, only to have it claimed by Ian. Item of some contention? You BET! Epithets, slurs, and backbiting were awry in the late morning hours, quelled only by a necessary egress to a preposterous call-time at the club, Le Zebre, of 1pm for an 8pm show.

The first show of what is already amounting to be a collosal European tour was a tremendous success! The French piled into the world famous Le Zebre de Belleville to partake in the rollicking rhythms of cross-pond jammers Zelazowa, and hometown heroes Timeout and Reno! All went well, despite an uncomfortable interlude with Bryan Weber's voracious wannabe-lover, Constance, who had chased him down the late night Parisian streets earlier in the week, and Timeout lead singer, Fil, who as fate would have it, bled profusely all over Kyle Weber's guitar (for the second time) when he borrowed it after destroying his own axe.

The after party was a powder keg of emotion and libido, quelled only by the inability of the Zelazowa/Timeout entourage to be admitted to, or served at any local watering holes. The Hideout refused them entry due to lack of female companionship. The Guinness Bar refused them service, as did the local Goth/Metal haunt, for (among other things, such as lack of black clothing and tattoos) being American! Another example for our ongoing commentary on French stereotype, or just a bucket of cold water in the face to alert the Gentlemen Z and Timeout of their overwhelming nerdiness!? You make the call!

Other highlights of the evening included the imbibation of copious amounts of French wine and Cointreau, and the not-so surprising disappearance of a certain Sharkey in the company of an undefined number of ladyfolk! Tryst or simple "dish city" kidnapping? YOU MAKE THE CALL!

The morrow brings forth a lengthy jaunt to Nantes, France! Keep posted for more calls that you might be required to make!

PS-Moments prior to this post, the triumphant return of the trysted/kidnapped Sharkey in question disproves all misconceived notions of both trysts and kidnappings. It turns out Terry Sharkey (whoops! giveaway!) instead found himself drinking a six pack of 1664 Beer at a Belleville poetry slam for a period of time, before becoming disgruntled and renting a bicycle (at FOUR A.M.!) to find his way back home! Whew! It's going to be a loooong drive to Nantes!

Every self-promoting, touring musician, music journalist, and photographer knows the tedium of hanging out in rock clubs. Hundreds of bands, playing hundreds of songs that should have never seen the light of day. Wannabe rock star moves on tiny stages playing “originals” that are nothing more than bastardized versions of the worst pop-rock “hits” from five years ago. It is a test of ones mettle to succumb to this lifestyle. To put ones self through this, endlessly, following the faint glimmer of hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Swallowing your pride and giving praise to people who should be whipped into submission for unconsciously embarrassing themselves and everyone around them. You clap politely at the finish of each song, knowing that supporting original music and musicians is a good thing, no matter how much crap you have to wade through to get to the promised-land.

In the end, for most people it is all for naught. People stop following the bands when they realize that they cannot spend the rest of their lives in a dirty bar. There are responsibilities. Marriage, children, and careers that are unforgiving of late night shots of Crown Royal downed in the smoky musk of a bar. You walk away from the scene and relegate yourself to downloading the “indie picks” from iTunes in an effort to convince yourself that you are still actively supporting original music, only by that time you start calling it “the arts.” Music journalists realize they have better things to do than follow the dead dream of freelancing their way into Rolling Stone magazine and becoming their go-to guy for the annual Dylan interview. Musicians, photographers, promoters, they all go too far into debt to remain convinced that in the end, the dream will pay for itself tenfold. It takes a confidence and a focus that eludes most of us. The biggest high becomes paying the electric bill on time, paying off the auto loan, and seeing the smile on the face of their firstborn infant. The dull satisfaction of everyday life replaces the youthful inspiration, defiant creativity, and the will to sacrifice the lure of suburban comforts indefinitely for the chance to be a part of something incredible.

Then you see a band like zelazowa and everything changes. In an instant all things suddenly become possible. I could heat the typical brand of their brilliance, and their captivating live show, their unique ear for melody, but you’ve heard it all before. You have read those words, you have seen the shows and bands they describe, and you have wisely taught yourself to distrust all rock journalists and the words they spew. They are nothing but cheap fluffers for the seediest, low budget audio pornography. I will not bore you with it.

Instead, I will suggest that anyone with an appreciation for hard hitting rock music, punk, or having even the slightest of anti-establishment tendencies owes it to themselves to become conscious of zelazowa. They do not take the stage with the token modern rock uniform of “retro” Express t-shirts, faux military hats, leathers pants, or layers of curiously planned out gypsy jewelry. They do not descend into simplistic, droning rhythms to build a solid, but unoriginal foundation for endless, uninspired soloing. They do not insult you with mindless, ongoing stage banter that they think will be cherished by legions of die-hard fans that should be lucky to be getting such a “personal” aside from the self-proclaimed idols.

Their attack is quick, focused and unrelenting. Theirs is a forty-five minute, well calculated, meticulously executed magnum opus. To stand so far apart from their peers, twenty-something modern rockers, is a thing of much curiosity. It adds to the mystique. How can a band play some 230 shows in one year and remain inspired? 230 shows in some of the dingiest bars, playing with the worst of the worst of weekend warrior bands, and stay focused on the vision? Traveling constantly, four guys cramped in a van, often not knowing where they will sleep. It is a thing of legend. It is a thing of numerous oral histories in the pages of Spin magazine, regaling the armchair, counterculture rock music buff with the amazing tales of the road as they nurse their firstborn. As they remember the days when they once hung out at the rock club, or toured with their band for a few weeks. The days when they were young, and the dream was still alive, and the devotion to becoming something special was all there was.

These are the good old days. Let us not forget their gossamer fragility.

I joined zelazowa in Raleigh, North Carolina in late November 2006 to film a music video for their single, “1,000 Smiles.” After seeing their live show for the first time over a year prior, I was instantly sold on this “one in a million” band, their unique drive, and their unfathomable focus as men who have chosen this challenging lifestyle as their profession. Their live show is filled with such ferocity, such volatile energy that I wanted to find a way to capture that and show it to people who have otherwise been unaffected by zelazowa. Since their tour schedule is so dense, a staged production was out of the question. The only choice was to join them on the road for two weeks as they wrapped up their 2006 tour, film the shows, and try to additionally capture a slice of life offstage. A two week long snapshot of the interesting people and their floors which they graciously donate to zelazowa, but for one night. A portrait of the long, tedious rides on the “motorway”, in the vernacular of Tim, their venerable, British TomTom cartographic analyst. A glimpse into the long hours spent at public libraries, booking shows, confirming dates, and searching for new venues in new cities. And hopefully, at least a glimpse of why these four men are truly unconventional. Their often soft spoken good nature, humility and humor are as unique to this band as their music. Although they might argue, they are fine role models. Their ambition, and immense responsibility as businessmen has rejuvenated the fire to advance my own career as an artist. It is the reason why, rather than call them the “next big thing” I will first call them friends.

-David Urbanic
November 11, 2006
Atlanta, Georgia

Not sure if these guys are actually performing these tricks or if they are edited. Either way it still looks amazing!