Happy New Year



Here's hoping everybody has a safe and happy new year!

It Wasn't Even New Year's

Remember a few months ago when I posted about a trip I took to Olewein?

Well, it being the Christmas season, Nate from Bakersfield was back in Iowa to be with his family, and of course that meant another trip up memory mountain for a night of drunkness and debauchery.

This time I drafted a friend to come along with me, if for no other reason then to just prove to myself that I wasn't imagining the insane shenanigans that seem to go on in that Northern Iowa villa on a seemingly nightly basis.

I had called my friend Crazy Dave about a week ago to set it all up. He had the night off work, and (as it turned out luckily) the next day off, so he agreed to come along with me.

We rolled into Olewein about 6:00 on Tuesday night. I drove directly to the house of my friend Damage, and presented him a brand new bottle of Stoli vodka, tripled distilled. He's been a gracious host over the years, and well, it was Christmas season and all. We mixed a few cocktails after deciding that warm vodka, triple distilled or not, tasted rather harsh when consumed by itself. At least it did at 6:15 on a dry mouth.


Damage

Nate eventually showed up, with a case of Bud Ice, and then Rob, with the same. (You know Rob from Over Fed Mind.) So with two cases of cheap ass beer at our disposal and it not being 7:00 yet, Dave, Nate, Damage, Rob, and myself played a rousing game of President Asshole. Once we were all fairly lubricated, it was off to downtown... To the bars.

Now, to make things al little easier for me at this point, I'm going to let Crazy Dave explain to you in his own words what went on that night. He recently started his own blogpage, called Shep's Kulture Corner, and he sums everything up quite well with his latest entry...

Tricycle racing indeed. 20 drunken adult maniacs and two small tricycles in a obstacle filled backroom are all you need to shake hands with the devil. I swear there were points in the night when we were trying to hurt eachother.

The night ended back at Damage's, when after a four person Halo 2 tournament, Nate passed out on the floor (with his head on the couch), Rob also on the floor with drool on the carpet, and me too, underneath D's computer desk. It was of course Damage's house, so he was able to find his bed. Dave on the other hand, was no where to be found.

The next day the haze I felt lasted all day. It seemed quite fitting that I spent almost 4 hours on the road... I was able to space off for what seemed like an eternity without being reminded that I was doing so. I think I drove one hundred miles before I realized that I didn't have the radio on. The gashes on the back of my forearm, numb up to this point eventually started to hurt... A clear reminder of one particular tricycle crash I endured, after being pushed into an endless sea of tables and chairs.

Ho hum. I'm getting way too old for this...

Artificial Turf

Uncle Billy's artificial head quit working today.

Evidently it couldn't withstand the strain of being artificial, according to his doctor.

"The strain was too much," he said. "The artificial head couldn't get used to having real blood pumping through it... And it finally just gave out."

"About the only thing your Uncle Bill can hope for now is another head donor," he added.

The previous artificial head was donated by J.C. Penny's. It had once belonged to a mannequin, but had fallen off when an employee bumped it on a wall while trying to carry it downstairs to the basement. The mananger was summoned, and he immediately thought of my Uncle Billy... Because of a flyer that he had seen posted on the bulletin board in the community building.



A team of doctors worked for 14 straight hours on Uncle Billy, and the procedure was originally thought to be a success. But after some time in the recovery room it became apparent that Uncle Billy wasn't able to move his lips, see us with his eyes, or hear what we were saying.

I cant see or hear! he scribbled on a note.

We knew then that it was only a matter of time before the whole thing shut down, and he would soon lose his thinking skills.

You know what?

I really wish I knew how to end this.

Brain Gravity

I haven't posted for awhile, so I'll wait ten seconds and throw out the first thing that pops into my head.

Gravity bongs.

There. A post is a post is a post.

Chiefs and the Raiders

I got home a couple of hours ago.

I was in Kansas City yesterday to see the Christmas day shootout between the Chiefs and the Okaland Raiders.

My friend Eric tagged along, it was his second NFL game in as many days. (He was at the Vikings - Packers game on Christmas Eve in Minneapolis.) Except for the final score of the game, the trip to Kansas City was stressful. Though we had gotten up early enough to seemingly arrive in Kansas City with still enough time for pregame celebrations, by the time we actually got on the road it was almost 11:00. That left us with just enough time to check into our hotel and head to the game. We sat in a traffic jam for 45 minutes before we were even able to park in the lots. (I had never arrived at a game that late before, I wasn't prepared for all of the waiting.) Then, we walked forever, seemingly... But we did manage to make it to our seats as they were singing the National Anthem.

The game was awesome.... Did you watch it? It was very close, with the Chiefs snatching a victory away from the raiders with less than a minute on the clock.



But...

Then it was back to playing the waiting game. It took us an hour to move 20 feet after we first got back to our car. The lot was so jammed, and we were so deeply buried in it, that we simply were unable to move. By the time we did get out of the lot, it was almost 9:00. We were very hungry at this point, and not immediately remembering that it was Christmas Day, we weren't prepared to find an endless sea of restaurants that were closed. Eventually we settled in at an IHOP, and after another hour and fifteen minute wait, we were eventually seated. By the time we actually got our food, it was 10:30.

That left little time to warm up in the hot tub at the hotel, as the pool facilities closed at 11:00.

Oh well. Looking back, I'd do it all over again. Though stressful, it was still a blast.

And that game... What a perfect way to spend Christmas!

Big and Tall dept.

In five short weeks while exploring the jungles of Borneo, a team of scientists discovered several new species of plants and animals that previously weren't known to exist.

Included on this list is a new "micro-crab", two new species of begonia, a couple new species of snail, and several new types of fish.

But the grandaddy discovery of them all might be this "monster" cockroach, which measures over 10 centimeters long. It's now touted as the largest cockroach in the world.



Of course, however...



Even a team of experienced scientists will make a mistake every now and again...

How could they have not remembered that the biggest cockroach in the world lives right here in the USA, in Miami, Florida?

Food for Thought

What kind of animal is Pizza?

That's what my little one just asked me.

Almost 5 years old, she is at that stage where she is realizing her position on the animal food chain. She recently just figured out that the chicken nuggets she has been eating for 4 and a half years are actually made out of real life chickens.

It was an obvious milestone for her... I could tell by the look on her face that she had been thinking very deeply about this.

It all started about three weeks ago.

While eating some McDonald's chicken nuggets, Tory Lee said to me, "Daddy, is this a real chicken?" I could tell by the look on her face that she might not be prepared for my truthful answer.

"Yes, honey." I said. "It is."

I watched her face shift from a look of excitement to one of honest uncertainty. At that point I thought for sure that she was going to throw the chicken nuggets down, storm off in a dramatic scene and make some big production out of the defense of farm hens.

But she didn't, and it surprised me.

She merely shrugged, took a bite, and said, "I love chickens."


So lately the thing has been, "Daddy, what kind of animal is meat?" And I would then explain to her that beef is from cattle... Pork is from pig... And so on and so on.

It's kind of turned into a nightly dinnertime ritual that we go through... As if she thinks that on any given night I am going to say, "Ha! I am only kidding! We don't eat animals!"


So... Tonight she asked me what kind of animal pizza is.

As usual, I could see the sincerity of the question on her face... The little gears inside her head were running... Spinning cogs of electric information to that little brain of hers. I assumed that she was referring to the chunks of pepperoni that layered the top of her slice.

I said, "What kind of animal do you think it is, Tory?"

"I think it is a dead one." she said.

And now since then, it's my own mind that wont stop turning somersaults.

Appetite for Destruction

Too bad for Turf.

He couldn't resist the urge last weekend to bad mouth the Kansas City Chiefs on Turf's Eye View. The tender donkeys were on schedule to play the Chiefs... And he wasn't at all shy about letting the world know who he was rooting for.

Ironically enough, a turf's eye view is pretty much what the donkeys had all afternoon during their visit to the hostile confines of Arrowhead Stadium.

The Chiefs started the game off with a bang. The X-Factor, Dante Hall returned the opening kickoff 90 some yards for a touchdown, and the Chiefs never looked back. The donkeys looked timid and scared as they made one mistake after another on their way to a 45-17 loss. (It wasn't even that close. The donkeys managed those last seven points late in the fourth quarter after Kansas City had removed it's entire starting defensive squad.)

The donkeys got their asses whupped, and possibly knocked out of the playoffs. On top of that, the Chiefs pushed the donkey's coach, the rat-faced Mike Shanahan, one step closer to the unemployment line. Once perceived as a genius, he is now perceived as what he really is: Just another mediocre head coach who has lost his bearings in the NFL. Without his star donkey, John Elway, Shanahan brings nothing to the table. (Hell, I could have won a Super Bowl with John Elway.) The only thing that denver brought to the table against the Chiefs was perhaps an appetizer... For the Chiefs to devour before thier meeting with this weekend's Christmas day matchup against an even more hated team in Kansas City: the chokeland roiders.

The roiders will come to town all fueled up on steroids and other illegal substances, unbathed and stinky in their filfthy unwashed football uniforms, and proceed to make a complete mess out of themselves.

The Chiefs will be up for this game, trust me.

The rivalry between the Chiefs and the donkeys is intense, but nothing compared to the rivalry between the Chiefs and the raiders.

The Chiefs live for this game. This is their Super Bowl every year. When the low life knuckle dragging box of shit that makes up the raiders organization comes into Kansas City, nothing else matters. And the fact that this game is on Christmas day, and I will be there... Well kids, that's just priceless.

Update: It hadn't been forty-five seconds after I posted this before I found this.

Adios Muchachos.

Business as Usual

Seems to me you don't want to talk about it... You just turn your pretty head and walk away...

Yep, That's how I have been feeling lately. At least in association with blogging.

Not that I haven't been busy.

This last week has been a true testament to my earthly stanima. Working all the time keeps me busy enough. Throw in the trips to the stores for Christmas shopping, and back again for the stuff I forgot, the traveling that is normally associated with Christmas, the normal family upkeep, and the time spent trying to get some rest, and there isn't much left for blogging.

The good news is that it seems to be winding down.

Recommendation:

Elvis Presley, If Everyday were like Christmas.



If this 24 song collection doesn't get you in the spirit of the holidays, then you probably don't exist. It has more Christmas spirit than Santa Clause eating a box of Ho-Ho's.

Hope all is well with all of you and your families. In case I forget to say it later, Merry Christmas.

(Extra Credit: Name the band that performed the lyrics at the beginning of this post. Whomever is the first will receive from me, a Christmas Goose.)

Missle Tow

Step 1. Tie balloons to car.
Step 2. Drive like a bat out of hell.
Step 3. Watch people freak out.



Man, I gotta get me some of these...

(Thanks Amy!)

Music Games

Seen by Big Stupid Tommy at Smoking Toaster:

1. Open up the music player on your computer.

2. Set it to play your entire music collection.

3. Hit the “shuffle” command.

4. Tell us the title of the next ten songs that show up (with their musicians), no matter how embarrassing. That’s right, no skipping that Carpenters tune that will totally destroy your hip credibility. It’s time for total musical honesty. Write it up in your blog or journal and link back to at least a couple of the other sites where you saw this.

5. If you get the same artist twice, you may skip the second (or third, or etc.) occurances. You don’t have to, but since randomness could mean you end up with a list of ten song with five artists, you can if you want to.

Honestly, I don't have any Carpenters on my computer. But here is what I came up with:

1. "The World is a Ghetto" by War. This song was introduced to me about a year ago from my friend Mike. It's very mellow, and has a stony feel to it. As does most songs by War.

2. "For Whom the Bell Tolls" Metallica. Possibly my all time favorite Metallica song (or "Seek and Destroy") from Ride the Lightning, my favorite Metallica album.

3. "Gangsta Rap" by the Dogg Pound. It's got that old school rap sound. That's right beeotch.

4. "Boyz in the Hood" by Easy E. Before Rage Against the Machine there was Public Enemy, where Easy E. was sprung from. "Boyz in the Hood" is a hard rap song with some killer turntable action. And it's got some attitude. I gotta get drunk before the day begins before my mother starts bitchin' about my friends... Yeah.

5. "World of Fantasy" by Triumph. Triumph is one of my all time favorite bands. They were the first concert I ever went to, headlining over Molly Hatchet, in about 1984. I was hooked. I've been freaky about live music ever since.

6. "Suspicious Minds" by Elvis. Needs no explanation.

7. "Whiter Shade of Pale" by HSAS (Hagar, Schon, Aaronson and Shrieve) This song, which was originally done by Procol Harum, is masterfully covered by HSAS, a band from the 80's that featured Sammy Hagar, Neal Schon (Santana, Journey) Kenny Aaronson (Foghat, Leslie West, Rick Derringer, and Bob Dylan to name a few) and some dude named Shrieve (I think I used to know who he was). This is probably the best version of this song ever recorded, mostly due to the blistering guitar solo at the end.

8. "Black Muddy River" by the Grateful Dead. One of those great slow mind numbing Grateful Dead songs.

9. "You're Always on my Mind" by Willie Nelson. When I hear this song, I am always reminded to do something nice for my wife.

10. "Big Iron" by Marty Robbins. This is perhaps the greatest of all the cowboy songs ever written. A stern looking Texas ranger comes to town and he's packing some big time heat. He's here to get Texas Red, the notorious and greatly feared outlaw. But even Texas Red aint no match for this ranger, and the big iron attached to his hip.


There it is. Nothing came up that embarrasses me really except maybe that Dogg Pound song. It's kind of cheesy, I guess. But it's cool... If I didn't know better I might think the Marty Robbins song is cheesy too. But I do know better.

Anyway... That's the list I came up with. I'd like to do it again sometime.

The directions are up there... You know what to do. Just link back here somehow, so we can all sit back and compare eachother's song lists.

Will it bring world peace?

Probably not.

Moment of Zen

I stole borrowed this video gem from Kevin over at Binary Bliss:

One question that Ken Jennings got wrong on Jeopardy!...

Ken's mind and mine are completely aligned together on this one. I thought of the the exact same response.

As Kevin said, the answer writers were having a good laugh when they wrote that one.

ESPN: Leggo the Ego

The newest ESPN production aired last night but since I had to work, I had a good excuse to miss it.

I am talking about 3, the story of Dale Earnhardt. From the previews I had seen, it looked interesting enough, and a part of me was legitimately curious about his life story. But a bigger part of me told me all along that I probably wouldn't watch it. After all, it is an ESPN production.

Nobody gives themselves a bigger slap on the back than ESPN.

They can't just let a movie air, they have to embrace themselves silly with it afterward by having an ESPN panel discuss it, and allow a national forum for the general public to call in and do the same . (Not only do they want to pat their own backs, they want the average Joe to do the same.) It gets to be a little ridiculous.

Then, to add some severity to the beating they are giving a dead horse, they re-show the movie about 70,000 times, on a continual rotation cycle throughout all of the other ESPN syndicated channels.

Every single commercial break on Sportscenter will have at least one advertisement about when the movie will be on again, in case you haven't yet seen it for the 30th time.

When it first became published, I was a subscriber to ESPN The Magazine. After a year or so of reading it, I became sick of all of the self-lauding the folks at ESPN gave themselves, and the unnecessary biographical articles about the ESPN celebrities they put in thier publication every two weeks.

And, though somewhat amused at first, I eventually grew tired of reading Dan Patrick's sarcastic interviews on the back page of each issue, because all it really came down to was him patting himself on his own back.

ESPN has gotten too big for their egoes.

I might watch the movie 3 some day. But if I do, it will be the DVD version... Far away from all of the bullshit propaganda that the cocky folks at ESPN jam down our throats every time they need a little security hug and release a new world premiere movie production.

And meanwhile, I'll be getting my sports news online, while watching the History Channel.

Just So You Know

There is a new post up at The Umpire, my other blog.

Note to Self:

If I am leaving a bar in the middle of the night, and I encounter Mike Tyson, do not approach him for an autograph, do not wave and say "Hello Mike!" and do not do anything at all that will draw his attention to me. By all means, become invisible and IGNORE THE FUCKER.

Mike Tyson is a train trying to derail... No scratch that.

Mike Tyson is a train that has derailed, but possesses this uncanny element of failure when trying to climb back up onto the tracks.

He's like the drunk driver that tries to drive his totalled car after smashing into a tree. The car won't even start, but sensing the inevitable painful repurcussions, he desperately keeps turning the key. Mike Tyson knows the difference between right and wrong. He just lacks the ability to control his emotional tilt to the dark side. About the time the water settles from a previous jaunt to the side of darkness, Tyson is there again to do something stupid, to get his name in the papers.

In his latest episode, Tyson was arrested for suspicion of criminal damage after jumping on the hood of a car outside a Scottsdale Arizona nightclub. Apparently, according to the police report, Tyson became angry while crossing a street after a car had stopped in the roadway. Shouting profanities, he jumped up onto the hood of the car and began to pound on it. Tyson's friends had to subdue him and get him off of the car.

In his mug shot, Tyson has that look of Here we go again... Lets get this over with.

He looks like a man who has lost his soul. He looks like a man who's almost ready to give up, who is aching for this nightmare journey between Heaven and Hell to come to a misery-ending finale. It is finally starting to hit home that he has lost everything... Even his self- control. Even his sanity.

If I see Mike Tyson out in the public sector, I am going to stay away from him. He wants to eat my children and smash my car. His life already in shambles, he wants to destroy mine. He is one of Hell's demons walking the Earth in the guise of a human being. He is merely waiting until the day that his lord Satan calls him home, who with a pitchfork, will fling him back into the flaming coals of Hell. Stripped of his sanity, Mike Tyson has nothing left to lose.

I, on the other hand, have everything.

(Thanks to Buddy for the links.)

Three Years

Three years is merely a flicker of time in the whole time continuum, a grain of sand on the vast beach of forever and ever.

But three years is a long time in the human sense... where we judge time spent sitting at stop lights and slow moving trains as wasted time. Because the human race seems to have developed a severe case of ADD during this last decade, it is amazing to me that Hawspipe has been at this blog thing for three years now.

I say this because I know how suicidal I have been with this blog.

I think about killing Gooseneck at least once a month. I'll walk away from it for awhile, plan it's sudden glorious demise, and beat myself up over the fact that I don't have the guts to pull the trigger.

Blogging has become my sick addiction, and never being a person that could ignore a jones, I always give in and come back to the blogosphere. I can't put my finger on it, but something always gets me back in this chair.

I know Haws has felt this way before too, but somehow has managed to keep it all together for what is now three years.

It might not seem like much to you, or amount to much in that whole time continuum thing, but from a personal level, the fact that Hawspipe has been running smoothly for three continuous years is amazing.

Congratulations, Haws.

UPDATE:

In related news, Johnnie is celebrating his first year anniversary. Woot Woot!

Tis the Season (Sigh)

I really don't want a whole lot for Christmas this year. A couple of books come to mind, as do one ot two CD's... And I guess I probably have room for another bottle of something something on the ol' liquor shelf. But really, there is nothing jumping out at me that says I need that.

Of course, I'm at that age and in that position where I can agreeably sacrifice my own Christmas dreams to those of my children. After all, Isn't Christmas really for them?

I managed to cause some ripples in my own family this year because I got tickets and made plans to attend the Chiefs - raiders game on Christmas day.

Somehow, for some reason, this has most of my family pissed off at me.

It doesn't matter that I announced in July that I got these tickets, nor that attending this particular game has been a life long ambition of mine, nor that I offered other scenarios to the people involved to try to make Christmas work so that everybody could be happy.

Apparently, since I won't be around on Christmas day, I have ruined Christmas for everybody.

That's too bad. I can't help but think about the 1000's of men and women in the military who wont be home for Christmas this year. I'd bet that the people close to them would be delighted if their sons or daughters or brothers or sisters only missed Christmas because they attended a sporting event.

Soldiers are going to die on Christmas day. It's a given. But barring some unforseeable circumstance, I will live to see the next day. I will see my family again, and they will see me. I wont have a little thing like an insurgent's bullet, or the U.S. Army preventing me from doing so.

I don't know... Maybe it's me that is being selfish. But I wish it didn't have to be like this.

Planned Damage


Warhead is a type of guitar.

Dimebag Darrell, lead guitarist for Damageplan, and formerly of Pantera was killed last night doing what he loved to do the most: Playing guitar.

He was playing a show in Columbus, Ohio when a man rushed the stage and unloaded a gun into Darrell and several other people. Luckily, a bullet fired from a police officer stopped the madman before he killed anybody else.

After it was all said and done, five people were killed, including the gunman.

Dimebag was killed by a scumbag.

Although he was known for his furious guitar style with a razor sharp edge, Dimebag's roots actually stem from a whole different genre. He learned to play guitar at a very young age from Country and Western legends. His father is Jerry Abbott, a studio musician and Country music songwriter.

Dimebag Darrell was considered a virtuoso at an early age. By the time he was 16 years old, he had won all of the talent contests he had entered, and was essentially banned from playing in them. He grew up in the Dallas area playing bars and clubs in the days before he got national recognition with Pantera. The shooting occured exactly 24 years after former Beatle John Lennon was shot and killed by an estranged fan.

This is a tragedy indeed. Dimebag was known to be soft and mellow when not shredding guitar licks. Though, I can't confirm it, a kid I worked with today told me that he was married and had a couple of kids.

What a rotten Christmas this is going to leave for alot of people. Although it actually doesn't, it seems like shit like this happens all the time.

The Gambler he Broke Even

From my inbox today:

Two couples were playing poker one evening. John accidentally dropped some cards on the floor. When he bent down under the table to pick them up, he noticed Bill's wife Sue wasn't wearing any underwear under her dress!

Shocked by this, John upon trying to sit back up again, hit his head on the table and emerged red-faced.

Later, John went to the kitchen to get some refreshments. Bill's wife followed and asked, "Did you see anything that you liked under there?" Surprised by her boldness, John courageously admitted that, well indeed he did.

She said, " Well, you can have it but it will cost you $500."

After taking a minute or two to assess the financial and moral costs of this offer, John confirms that he is interested. She tells him that since her husband Bill works Friday afternoons and John doesn't, John should be at her house around 2 p.m. Friday afternoon.

When Friday rolled around, John showed up at Bill's house at 2 p.m. sharp and after paying Sue the agreed sum of $500 they went to the bedroom and closed their transaction, as agreed. John quickly dressed and left.

As usual, Bill came home from work at 6 p.m. and upon entering the house, asked his wife abruptly. "Did John come by the house this afternoon?"

With a lump in her throat Sue answered "Why yes, he did stop by for a few minutes this afternoon."Her heart nearly skipped a beat when her husband curtly asked, "And did he give you $500?"In terror she assumed that somehow he had found out and after mustering her best poker face, replied, "Well, yes, in fact he did give me $500."

Bill, with a satisfied look on his face, surprised his wife by saying, "Good, I was hoping he did. John came by the office this morning and borrowed $500 from me. He promised me he'd stop by our house this afternoon on his way home and pay me back."

Thanks Snowman!

Hot Topic

Today, I saw this dude come out of a building downtown... On fire!

No shit!

I walked up to him and said, "My wife thinks you're hot."

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin

I'm feeling the need to expand my blogroll.

If you know of a great blog, and it's not on my blogroll, please pass along a recommendation. Remember, I only stop for the best.

Later, when I have more time, I'll update with a couple of recommendations of my own.

Thank you, you have all been wonderful. I don't know how you do it.

Classic Rock that Rocks

I was the 9th caller and won tickets to a concert today.

It is at the expense of KGGO a classic rock station from Des Moines.

They're not bad for a classic rock station. I wouldn't say that I like every song that they play, but they're big on old school Van Halen, and they're not timid about throwing some vintage Rainbow or Deep Purple into the mix. Their logo is Classic Rock that Rocks.

I have no idea who is playing. I won't know until Sunday night when the lights go down, and the band takes the stage.

The show has been dubbed the One Night Stand. The only way to get tickets is to win them from KGGO by being the 9th caller when they tell you to call. It's almost impossible to get through, as there is a huge volume of people calling. But today I did get through and impossibly, I was number 9.

So I won two tickets.

The band is guaranteed to be a big named national act (presumedly from the classic rock era) but we wont know who it is until they take the stage. It could be a leftover band such as BTO or a complete "No way, I can't believe it!" band such as the Rolling Stones.

I'm guessing that it will be one of those leftover bands... Or someone from in that green area, between BTO and the Stones.

Wouldn't it be cool as fuck if it were the Stones?

The concert is at Keysters, the newest place in Des Moines to see live rock. I am under the impression that it isn't much more than a bar... With a giant stage. But I have never been there.

From their web page, I see that they are hosting some of the bigger named regional rock bands and it looks like a cozy atmosphere.

Who knows, maybe the Stones could play there.

It should be fun no matter who is playing and I like the fact that it's a mystery.

Who would be your top 5 choices if you could pick the headlining act? (Keep in mind that it's more than likely a radio popular band.)

Besides the Stones, I would pick:

1. Judas Priest
2. Rainbow
3. Deep Purple
4. The Who
5. and someone a little bit more obscure, say... Johnny Winter.

And hell, because it is my blog... 5 more:

6. Rush
7. T-Rex
8. Molly Hatchet
9. Santana
and The Moody Blues. (Could you imagine seeing the Moody Blues in a bar? The contact high alone would be staggering.)

I'd be interested to know who would be your top 5 (or 10) picks.

So please, tell me.

UPDATE:

The mystery band was... Eddie Money.

But my wife and I didn't go. We were too tired after a long weekend of work. After finding out who we missed, I wasn't too disappointed.

Proper English dept.

Sometimes it seems as if two words were meant to be together... Like a wonderful inter-racial marriage:

Dirty Sanchez.