Re-Onion

Well, the "big" night has come and gone. The highly touted Gandhi's Lunchbox reunion is in the record books. I'm too time-constrained to provide a complete narrative of this fantastic event but I will provide a list of witty observations for you lucky fuckers. And here it is:

1. Despite the fact we sucked, people had a good time. Actually, we had moments of brilliance (defined as all of us playing in the same key at the same time more or less) and precision Rock 'n Roll was not on the menu that night. Fun was.

2. People drank A LOT. After we finished, I went around the room mentally taking note of the top 5 drunk people in attendance. When more than 5 people grabbed me and told me how great we were (at least I think that’s what they were slurring), I gave up. Now back in the day, we had the reputation of bringing in the drinkin’est fans around. Bars always made out like bandits when we played and that’s why they would mostly put up with our silly behavior (some didn't and I will tell you about that another time).

3. Fuzzy kissed every one of the attendees on the mouth at least twice.

4. We concluded the night with an "artistic" rendering of "Smoke On The Water." Why, I'm not sure.

5. Tom ended up in the hospital because of fucking up his sciatica jumping around. He's on Vicadins. I aggravated a neck problem just by loading in my amp. I'm on Flexeril.

6. My sister, Wheel Gun Mika A.K.A. Momma Cod and her three children, BFace, The Cod God and Sisterface A.K.A Sister Cod (and hubbie el Jefe) all made it to the show. It did take some coaxing to get BFace in.

7. I brought my 12 string Rickenbacker but was too lazy to get it out and play it. At least it was there.

8. Wiz looked younger than he did 12 years ago.

9. Scotty’s basement is now a little more accessible due to the fact he sold a few boxes of CDs and t-shirts. Hopefully they weren’t too moldy.

10. The next reunion, I will be 58. The one after that, 70.

I am proud of our fans. Hell, they put up with our crap for all those years in the 80's and 90's and then, twelve years later, came back for more! Also, and this is really important to me for some reason, our fans were mostly just regular folks who liked to get hammered while listening to weird music at night after a long hard day on the job. Not too many trust fund punks or art fags at our shows, although we had some (and we loved them too). Here's to you guys - Thanks for supporting us and it will always be an honor to entertain you.

Now, back to Jupiter 2 (phew!)...

P.S. Any fans or band mates who were at this comically inept reunion, please feel free to add your observations via comment.

More Crap

Just what you wanted - more crap about this upcoming band reunion as reported in my last blog. As a matter of fact, I will make sure this crap continues flowing unabated until after the cursed event occurs. God, you are the lucky chosen few! If perhaps you miss my witty, pithy political commentary (as no doubt BFace does), hang in there for a few more days. In the mean time, visit The Rude Pundit who is far wittier and pithier than I.

I have included a picture of ole Wheel Gun Bob taken at the end of the Gandhi's Lunchbox era, over 12 years ago. I can tell when it was taken by the various shit on my guitar. If any of you who visit this blog don't know what I look like these days, just picture me as about 60lbs heavier, with what little hair I have left almost all gray and my front teeth missing. Well, I exaggerate a little, but not much. I still have all my toofus.



This picture is troubling for a number of reasons. The expression for one. I look like I just received an ice water enema. Also, the hair style and beard make me look like I should be in a fucking Southern Rock cover band. The guitar is a Kramer, further degrading whatever cool quotient I might have had if any. BFace, to this day, can't understand why I traded in a Fender Jazz Master for this guitar. Of course BFace tries to be cool, I don't. Actually, the real reason was the Jazz Master had a broken neck (among other problems) and I wanted a guitar I could throw around a bit on stage and smack Tom with. This thing was cheap. You can tell I treated it with respect.

Ribbed for your added pleasure, here is an article and picture (at the bottom) of Jupiter 2 in the latest Wired Magazine. Fortunately, all you can see of me is my guitar's headstock.

Common Sense Suffers Humiliating Defeat!

So what were some of the worst ideas in history? The Edsel? The Iraq war? Settling New Orleans below sea level? Casting George Lazenby as James Bond? Alf? "Whip Inflation Now" buttons? The Spruce Goose? Ignoring those iceberg warnings? My first marriage? Well, here's one for the list: The Gandhi's Lunchbox reunion. That’s right, my old band is playing a reunion show November 25th (the day after Thanksgiving which will probably be known hence forth as Fuckyousgiving day).

We broke up 12 years ago. And for good reason. Although I can't remember what that reason was exactly, I'm sure it was a good one otherwise we would be still together. It even caused our other guitar player, Fuzzy Fortier, to flee as far as he could before he hit the Pacific Ocean and made our drummer, Omicron 4 (A.K.A. The Wiz), swear off music altogether.

Scott the bass player, Tom the singer and I got back together a few months after the break-up to form Jupiter 2 with the crazed Rodger Shosa. Although Scott eventually wised up and left "The Deuce" (the latest in a long and noble line of bass players is jOhn Morse), Tom, Rodger and I are still at it to this day, albeit with a reduced schedule due to our advanced age, swollen livers and enlarged prostates.

So why the reunion? Who the fuck knows? I think it was Fuzzy's idea. He is flying in from San Fransissyco just for the occasion (hopefully his arms won't be too tired to play). Or maybe he is coming out here to spend the holiday with his family and one of us talked him into it. Whatever. We hope to get a practice in with him before the gig.

The four of us without Fuzzy decided to get together last night to see if everything still functioned. Guess what? No one remembered the songs. What idiot put so many damned chord changes and rhythm changes and tricky endings in those fucking songs? Not me. I write simple garage rock tunes. At least now I do. I hate having to pay attention and actually play the guitar.

Hell, it might be good for me. Although I dislike living in the past since my life’s so goddamned rosy now.

P.S. I have been asked if Jupiter 2 is on the bill that night. The painful answer is no. GLB will be doing two sets, maybe three if you are unlucky. Deuce guitar god H-Bomb Miller (who was actually in Gandhi's Lunchbox for a few months after Fuzzy quit) won't be around. He is either playing with The Jabbers that night or The Tunnel Rats. He is a glutton for punishment being in three bands (or two bands and Jupiter 2). Actually, now that I think of it, he may be visiting his mother for Thanksgiving. Hey, Harlen, can I come along?

Other details - It will be at The Blue Mermaid on The Hill in Portsmouth. Show will start at 9 or when ever we are sufficiently drunk to play. The cost will be negligible except to your ears and psyche.

Look At That S Car Go (up in flames)

Well, well, well. France is burning. It's about time. They are just a bunch of assholes anyway, right? At least its popular these days hate them. I bet if you did a survey of young people and asked them who we fought in WWII, those who knew what WWII was would probably answer France. Listen to any talk radio blowhards or Fox News, and you would get the impression that France was an enemy! It's just fun these days to dis the Frogs. And they do look down their noses at us. So fuck 'em. I don't hate the French, though. I was there once and they seemed nice enough to me. But I would never by a Renault.

Some Americans actually hate the French not because of their Renaults but because they had the temerity not to fall for the whole Iraq WMD malarkey being perpetrated by America and Great Britain. We actually changed the name of "French Fries" to "Freedom Fries" in the Senate commissary to show them a thing or two (how fucking embarrassing is that? I know we shouldn't give a rat's perineum about what the rest of the world thinks about us but we must really look like a bunch of rubes to them. By the way, the Senator who came up with that freedom fries idea is now anti-war and regrets the whole thing.)

That whole cowboy "either you’re with us or your’re with the terrorists" line of bullshit is just ridiculous. Maybe that works in Texas but not the rest of the world. It just so happens France like the majority of other countries was not convinced as easily as the American public about the necessity to go to war with Iraq. And guess what - turns out they were right! That's even more embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as owning a Renault.

I haven't really followed this whole riots in France thing all that closely but here is a bit of irony - The French (and the right wing in America) hate multiculturalism. And that seems to be the problem over there. Those immigrants aren’t being assimilated and their culture is being suppressed. We in America embrace multiculturalism (at least we did) and our immies are behaving themselves. Seems America isn't as backwards as people think. At least in this area. And even a Chevy Vega is more reliable than a Renault. Now that’s saying something.

Eine Kleine Schlitz n' Plumpers

Hey, you guys will be happy as shit to know that you have something to do this Saturday night. Yep, my band Jupiter 2 is playing at a new dive in Somersworth, NH called Station 319. We are playing with pals of our (who feature a hot chick drummer), Hot Rod Fury. So be there or be smart.

I was thinking about music today. I must have about a hundred half finished songs lying around. So I thought I might write a song called "Half Finished Song." It will either have lyrics over a verse and a chorus and then the rest of the song with no lyrics or it will be a real long song with all the half finished lyrics in it.

Here are some Jupiter 2 songs that didn't make the cut or we only did once or twice -

Split Dick Man - Was about a guy with a bifurcated penis. "I'm a split dick man, I'm a split dick man. I can fuck her in the c**t, I can fuck her in the can."

Split Stream Man - You ever wake up and take a morning piss only to have your dink send out two streams in opposite directions? That's what this song was about. Hey, jOhnny, you have the lyrics to this one?

Fuck You - A satire of Joe king (of the Queers) songs. It featured the same turn around he has in all his songs and a dinky Joe King solo. The chorus was "Fuck, fuck, fuck you!" sung in the manner of our pal the Kinger.

Australo-hippie-scene - It was a song about how hippies look and act like cavemen. Australopithecus + hippie scene. Get it? We thought it was funny as shit until the next day when we were sober. I think we actually performed this one a couple times.

Schlitz n' Plumpers - Our former organist Marc had suitcase full of mostly German porn that he left in our practice space. One night while we were setting up for practice (in other words drinking), Tom was sitting down reading a "Plumpers" magazine while drinking a Schlitz. The song had lotsa nonsense German words in it.

Dale's Last Ride - An instrumental we did right after Dale Ernhardt died. As I recall, it was pretty cool. Not that he died - the song.

I know there are a lot more amazingly stupid songs we did and I will remember them as soon as I post this.

And fear not, we won't be performing any of these songs on Saturday. We will be doing the same damned 15 song set we have been playing for the last 7 years.