"Everyday feels like a Holiday"

I don't know many Warren Haynes songs, actually I don't know any other than Soulshine which I am pretty sure is a cover, but I do know this: Ludicris believes that Everyday is a HOEliday, and Haynes sings that Everyday feels like a holiday. For me though, in a way being a reverse camp counselor does make everyday a holiday because of my lack of agenda, alarm clock, and overall urgency. It?s going to be a rough road to recovery in early September, but for now holidays happens 7 days a week. Today?s is going to be called Senor Blog Day. Why? because the only thing stopping me from going to the beach in a little bit is Maneer Blog. So it?s his day, or at least his morning, plus Faux Fall is back raining vengeance of precipitation and grey. Tomorrow will be what will I wear for halloween day.

 

So I went to the Warren Haynes concert last night, you probably haven't heard of him unless your either in Southern rock or jam but he has played with the Allman Brothers and The Dead for many years and is the lead guitarist of Gov?t Mule. I had never paid to see a concert in another country, and he is one of the sickest guitarists I've ever heard, so I figured why not. It was ear candy is the truest sense as Mr. Haynes isn?t the most attractive man to look at, and his guitar roadie might have been his brother, but man can that guy wail on an ax.
Do you know the only place you can't smoke pot in Amsterdam? The Paradiso in Leidseplein. Which just happens to be an old church turned into a concert hall. Awesome venue though, really cool to see a concert inside a church. ahh the Dutch legally smoke your joints outside please, then come back in for 3 dollar beers, all while being as polite as possible. 

 Spent the past few days in Rotterdam during Carnival. If Gent taught me anything it was that this was an event not to miss. I wasn't not going to miss the smoking, drinking, and chocolate milk before it hit the ground. I expected thousands of Nederlanders that looked exactly like me, Dutch pop songs, and as much Chocamel as I could drink. Well only one of those things came true: the chocolate milk.
Instead we walked into the Caribbean version of "Drumline" minus Nick Cannon. I'm all over fesitvals, esp ones that are sponsored by Ferdinand the Bull, but even I felt a bit out of place when one of the hottest women I saw had a flat top. Regardless of gender this was one of the best flat tops I have ever seen, and would have been the best haircut if not for the boy with the shaved head and party in the back dreadlocks. Imagine a mullet with a bald cap on top of it, that's the style he was rocking (and pulling off).

It wouldn't be a Caribbean extravaganza without steel drums though, and no amount of pouring rain can take me away from music that I moderately enjoy in small doses.

 Friday night brought the battle of drums in very inclement weather where we spent the evening guzzling Heinekins, eating surinamese food and trying to figure out what tune they were playing....I think I heard a lot of usher. The drums were entertaining, but not nearly as incredible as watching the dancing. It was a mosh pit of gyrating hips, fist pumps and Axel Rose type snake moves...and that was just the guys. I really didn't want to leave but rules say when your the only white people left its time to leave.

The second day and night however was a whole different atmosphere. Starting with a never ending parade of culture that lasted at least 6 hours and did multiple laps around the city. It was as if the members of the parade were all forced to do the subsequent night after walk of shame after Halloween. Some were pulling it off and had some sense of dignity, many wore costumes 3 sizes too small, and some were never meant to see daylight. As far as extravagant costumes go it was a cornacopia of color, but the people underneath the costumes were the real monsters. Mix in an a few awkward token white kids just to include the honkeys, a bunch of toddlers in tiaras, and repetitive beat that is some sort of salsa infused techno and we have a parade that was a one good microphone away from a revolution. Someone always has to ruin the party though, and after a crazy afternoon of heavy partying and even heavier woman nightfall casts its wicked shadow on those crazy caribs. In just 2 days the garbage was worse than the 10 days that Gent allowed its citizens free reign of the city. When out of nowhere everyone starts running away from the main beer tent. I presumably should have done the same but I had just gotten a fresh beverage and wasn't willing to part with my new best friend. Instead, we venture closer to the action where we see this snookie looking creature take the square by storm. Blond snookie was inciting a riot, fighting her boyfriend, and smoking fresh cigarettes all while bowling ball her way into people. Next thing you know the po are on horses and clubs are out. Snooki is throwing herself at anyone she can find (sexually of course), caribs are hurling beer fueled expletives at them, cops are using their clubs, and a woman even punched a horse. All the while I sat 10 feet away enjoying the action. The dutch woman next to me said it best "when they don't listen, they have to be told." Awesome night.

 Finally, I asked laura how many times I would have to fry spaghetti as my dinner before i was forced mention it in my blog. The answer was 3. Don't knock it till you try it.