Scene & Herd - Pleased to meat you
Now with a distinct mesquite scent!
I've said it a million times before and I'll say it again now: I love trade shows. If there's a gathering of people taking their hobbies entirely too seriously, there's a good chance you'll find me there.
On Saturday afternoon, I took a mesquite-scented journey into the heart of one of America's greatest hobbies: barbecue. The event was the National Barbecue Association's convention at the Atlanta Airport Hilton. The setup was familiar to anyone who's ever been to a trade show. There were dozens of tables and booths stocked with the latest in barbecue technology and accessories.
Of the tables without food, the one with thermometers was probably the best. The table's vendor kept shooting me with her laser-pointer-type device that actually uses a beam of a light to take an object's temperature. According to her, the surface temperature of my hands was about four degrees hotter than is typical. I wasn't sure what to think of it at the time, but now I'm wondering if the whole exchange was just a thermometer salesperson's way of flirting.
In the hotel's parking lot, people selling smokers enticed potential buyers with big plates of fresh-cooked food. My girlfriend got a small plate of smoked pulled pork from a table run by a guy with an Amish beard. When she selected to season it with the table's ultra-hot barbecue sauce, a man standing next to her cackled, suggested that she put a roll of toilet paper in the fridge when she got home, cackled again, and walked away. Again, I'm wondering now if that was flirting.
The show was about more than mere shopping and eating. It was also about learning. Free copies of Douglas, Ga.'s own National Barbecue News were available to all. The monthly newspaper's logo is a smiling pig carrying a notebook and wearing a sports coat and fedora. The event's educational centerpiece, though, was a multimedia conference. I popped in just in time to hear a lecture on brisket by a man who calls himself the Smokin' Okie. He was cocky as hell and would begin sentences with phrases like, "Well, if you study barbecue, you'd see that ..." Several times, he encouraged the class to buy some brisket, cut it open and touch it. "Get to know the brisket," he kept saying. Not long after telling us that if we've never cooked baked beans in a smoker we are "missing a huge opportunity," Brisket Man had to end his lecture so that the ribs guy could start his.
Jesus, God!: Last Thursday night, a few hundred people or so showed up at Paris on Ponce to meet Hollis Gillespie, buy autographed copies of her new book, Bleachy-Haired Honky Bitch, and bask in the reddish, warm glow of her success.
Full disclosure, Hollis is not only a fellow CLer and a friend, she's also my landlord. I rent the southwest Atlanta home she talks about at length in her book. Tours are available Tuesday through Saturday. Ask about the group discount!
Before autographing, she took requests from the audience, sharing aloud the story of a horny Englishman who demanded to be "duminated," and another about her mom and the word "fuck." Then she surrendered the stage to Kingsized and signed books until there were none left.
Lary, Daniel and Grant were there, of course. Grant in particular, with his jaunty apparel and tinted shades, seemed to enjoy all of the attention. Of course, if you've ever read Hollis' column or spoken to Grant for about, oh, two seconds, you'd know that he's not exactly shy.
Nuclear power: Elevation Gallery's Atomic Pop show opened Saturday night with a huge party and fashion show. Like the name suggests, the art consisted mainly of in-your-face pop art. Among the most memorable pieces were Skip Williamson's "Cul De Sac," depicting a car cruising through manicured suburbs and sporting bumper stickers that read "Don't Blame Me I Voted For Hitler" and "Repeal The Magna Carta." My favorite piece was a rocking chair and several cradles painted by Kathy King with pictures and words that expressed anxieties about child-rearing. It was spectacular and also kinda sad.
As for the fashion show, I thought the Eva "Martini Girl" Maria's men's pajamas looked really good, but I didn't much care for her casual wear. If you frequently find yourself at the Heretic on Scottish night, however, the black mesh top and plaid kilt she designed might be just the outfit for you.
Parishioners: Last Wednesday night, a few hundred Atlantans de-mothballed their Izods, laced up their Docksiders and headed to the Variety Playhouse in Little Five Points to see '80s Australian semi-stars the Church.
The '80s were a big decade for Australians in America. Who can forget Crocodile Dundee, Crocodile Dundee 2, Yahoo Serious or that Energizer battery guy? The Church was never as popular as the aforementioned, but they actually had tremendous creative talent.
I should say has, because the Church is one of the few veteran bands that continues to make music that's every bit as good as the music it made during the so-called "peak" years. After an introduction by 99X's resident '80s guru Steve Craig, the band launched into "Sealine," the opening track from its most recent CD. "Sealine" and all of the other new tunes the band played on Wednesday were every bit as swirling, melodic and brooding as "classics" like "Reptile" and "Under the Milky Way" — a song that despite my most fervent wishes has nothing to do with being pinned beneath a giant candy bar. So what if singer Steve Kilbey looks and dresses like he teaches a pottery class — he's still got a voice that other rock crooners (Bono, Ferry, hell, even Bowie) would kill for.