WORT Block Party

When I got to the WORT block party a couple weekends ago, Yid Vicious were starting things off with some klezmer. It was a very pleasant day two weekends ago for the shindig. The sun was shining, there was food, beer, and music. The Dulcinea and I grabbed some brews to start off the party. We were both pleased the Ale Asylum was providing some suds for us to try. I had their Hopalicious and was quite pleased. I was also pleased to see a couple belly dancers performing after Yid Vicious.



One of them looked curiously like a former lover but, since I think belly dancers are just attractive a priori, I shrugged this feeling off as wishful thinking. As Rockin' John introduced The Midwesterners, The Dulcinea and I decided to brave the concessions area to get some grub.



We went with Buraka - African food. I had the chicken stew with peanuts and was sure to load up with the Extra Hot sauce.



We sat down at a bench and listened to the band play as we filled our gullets.



I just couldn't get into The Midwesterners. It's not that they were bad, it's that I found them to be rather dull. I like rockabilly a lot but they just never came across as anything more than a cover band you'd find at Badger Bowl. The music just had no balls. The hot sauce, however, did. I want to thank Buraka for having really fucking hot hot sauce. It was very tasty. And sneaky too. It didn't have a very sharp flavor. Instead it was cool and mellow like a cucumber is cool and mellow. Then the heat snuck up on me. Oh man! My cheeks got all flushed and I started crying. Now, that's good stuff. Here's the jar of the stuff:



I don't know why, but it's really difficult to find a restaurant in this town that aids and abets the diner in torturing him or herself like Silas in The Da Vinci Code. I mean, my grandmother can handle the vindaloos in this town. If I want spicy jerk pork, I need to give it a very large douche of the sauce on the table. And try getting a hot habenero sauce at a Mexican restaurant in this town. Somebody tell me where I can get it. Las Palmas had the wimpiest hot sauce I've ever gotten when I've asked for the really hot stuff. Christ, I think The Great Dane of all places, is the only joint where you can get some habenero sauce that will make you breathe fire out of your ass. But I digress.

With the meal being done, we returned for more beer. I had the Ale Asylum's nut brown ale and it was good.





At some point, The Dulcinea wandered off to go to the bathroom or look at some jewelry and I found myself standing alone. It was at this point that I was approached by one of the belly dancers - the one that looked familiar. She asked me my name and it was then that I realized that it was her. I hadn't seen her in 14 years or so. She was married with a son and still living in Stevens Point. She was also still keeping bees as she was selling lip balm (and other such accoutrement). It was nice to see her again and to hear that things were going well for her. Plus, having had intimate relations with her, I felt OK ogling her cleavage

The next highlight of the day was walking up to the beer line and meeting Rick Tvedt, editor of the local music rag, Ricks' Cafe. Here we are:



He approached me after seeing my Porcupine Tree t-shirt. Rick was an incredibly nice guy and, since we are both fans of progressive rock, we had much to talk about. And we did. I can only imagine how boring it was for The Dulcinea to stand there while we blathered on. He and I chatted for a while and then it was time to mosey around and use the head. And The Selfish Gene came onstage.





While I'd heard of them, I'd never heard them and I was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't exactly traditional progressive rock but their brand of rock had enough twists & turns to make it interesting and good melodies to boot. Plus they gave away free copies of their Self-Defeating Human Beings promo.



The last band that we witnessed performing was Charlemagne. A few clips from their performace can be found at Civility in Public Discourse and, personally, I don't see what all the hubub is about.

After their set, we headed out lest I be unable to actually drive my car. Beer is just too tempting for me.