I had a great Thanksgiving this year. A good visit with family, especially with my beloved Grandma Susie. Lots of good food, music, watching sci-fi with Uncle Larry, everyone singing along with Alice’s Restaurant, my mum’s homemade pumpkin pie, a perfect turkey from Aunt Lynn, and my dad’s delicious stuffing.
When I got home and was checking email, I found to my surprise an announcement that the Mahatma’s back in town and performing as Wink Pain in the Wink & Yoni show at the Odeon Bar starting ostensibly in 10 minutes. I still had the rental car, thought "what the hell", changed clothes and – since these things never start on time – arrived just in time for the opening band, Nice Pants.
I enjoyed Nice Pants very much even though it was their first gig. Just a violin & ukelele duo performing great 20’s and 30’s sounding tunes. Quite fun!
Then on came Wink Pain & Yoni Wannalea with their sunglasses, alarming hair, cheesy come-ons and Don Ho classics. Despite the fact that the entire room was stoned on L-Tryptophan (or, more scientifically accurately, blissful & lethargic after over-eating), they put on a good show and I expect it was only the post-feast-indolence which prevented the throwing of panties onto the stage.
And how was the Odeon Bar? Just fine. Crass and outrageous and unprententious and real. (And no porn on the t.v. this time, just a surreal film and something about how to cut the head off a live chicken. Just look at the band, your drink, and the smiling faces around you and you’ll be fine.)