In every law student’s initial class, an imperative and unsophisticated lesson is learned. Do not make the opponent’s case for them…
Theoretically, the Undone Lingerie Fashion Show was this evening’s subject. When I arrived, Sugar Bar’s crowd appeared energized for the exhibition. The couch klatch, dance floor, and upper mezzanine were swarmed… DJ Samurai was sizzling… And the platinum bunnies were copious…
Whether they were wearing a rainbow top with white jeans, scattered blue with dark jeans, or a gold sequin dress, the panorama and another event (which we will discuss momentarily) reminded me of Sugar Bar’s allure… They reminded me of the initial evening I ventured into the venue exactly six months ago…
This is the moment, within this column and history; that time travel occurs… From 1977-1980, Steve Rubell operated this nation’s premiere venue… Studio 54 was decadent, outlandish, and unpredictable… Celebrities craved access… Patrons craved entrance… Rubell provided surprise after spectacle for both…
Within this city, Chris Corso is Rubell. Sugar Bar is Studio 54. Yet, neither has ever attempted their potential. As I observed cash floating from the ceiling, I silently questioned why this was not an every evening occurrence. I silently questioned when this would reoccur. I silently questioned what the value was in the abhorrence I had witnessed moments earlier.
Remember I commenced this column theoretically… The Undone Lingerie Fashion Show was cancelled… The Giovanni Body Art Show occurred as scheduled… Seven naked attention whores, clad only in color, grinding and shaking as if they were platinum bunnies… Someone should remind them they are putrid excrement…
I know I said this concerning another subject, but it’s worth rephrasing… If you’re performing “body art,” you should wear a sign which reads stupid… You may as well pain pathetic trash across your chest… Because that is what you are… Pathetic trash… Your actions clearly crave attention, which makes you pathetic… Your actions indicate that you have zero respect for yourself, which makes you trash…
Whenever Corso is criticized, the opposition is viewpoint is universal… Corso’s venues promote trash… They recruit trash… They showcase trash… Tonight, Corso provided his critics with every “I told you so” they ever wanted…
Showing posts with label DJ Samurai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DJ Samurai. Show all posts
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sugar Bar Makes Their Critics
Thursday, June 4, 2009
INVITE: Anger Management
Commencement: 10:00Venue: Sugar Bar (525 Park Street)
Mezzanine Drinks (Available 11 p.m. – Midnight)
$1 Top Shelf Drinks
Appearances
DJ Ductape
DJ Samurai
Friday, May 29, 2009
Reasons to Relish & Resign
People don’t appreciate the human aspect of this website. The bunny chasers and bunnies, their random actions and fashion, are column material, but they are vastly anonymous. The venues are column material, but they are vastly inanimate. It’s the natural slingers, the camaraderie and friendship, the moments you read and the stories you never will, that make this website.
Tonight, Thursday Night Live experienced it’s second edition. I promise we will discuss the occurrences and results… However, this was an evening when winners were nonexistent. This was an evening when the squad atop the scoreboard didn’t defeat their opponents; they merely outscored them.
While the clutches were scattered and unmemorable, DJ Legend and DJ Samurai were exquisite. Last week, DJ Samurai was patterned and predictable. This evening, DJ Legend’s creativity was equaled… DJ Legend mixed “Love Story” dance remix… DJ Samurai responded with an “Other Side” dance remix. DJ Legend spun “How Do You Sleep” and “Summer Girls.” DJ Samurai responded with “Poker Face” over the “Rocky Theme.”
The clash was an auditory delight. If only the crowd could have merited this skirmish… Pre-game, Lodge Bar appeared to enjoy a minimal advantage. In-game, Sugar Bar scored the initial round, although their swarm induced wincing (and only some of it was mine)… Particularly putrid was their stage, which was inhabited by an amount of weight not seen since the NFL Draft’s top ten selections…
While the heifers were horrific, Emily Rose Perfection’s presence made their repulsiveness invisible. I know I typed that Emily Rose is my favorite Lucky Charm… She may be (although she has a crush of competition) my favorite platinum bunny, venue employee or non-employee, in this city… It’s not simply her fashion (green and white top, form flattering white shorts)… It’s not simply her eighteen carat personality… It’s not simply her thirty-six carat appearance… It’s the elegant, precocious, and scandalous combination of the trio…
From the moment she arrived to the moment she messed up my hair, Emily’s glamour and magnetism were omnipresent… I typed this once with another superstar, but at this moment, the verbiage is transferable… You think ultimately, I would run out of adjectives for her, but every moment, Emily Rose’s personality amazes me…
In the second round, the crowd continued to disappoint me… While Sugar Bar scored the sequence on numbers, Lodge Bar possessed almost every platinum bunny (except Emily Rose)… The venues were polar opposites with similar attributes… Lodge Bar with every morsel and zero mass… Sugar Bar with an impressive mass and zero morsels…
Since I mentioned morsels, I must spend several sentences adoring Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure, who has accomplished in six evenings, what some bunnies amass six weeks attempting… She has captivated and ensorcelled my attention…
It’s not merely her appearance, which is understatedly scrumptious… It is her intoxicating personality, which compels one to flirt with her, respect her, snuggle with her, and speak with her… You spend five minutes with Whitney; you want to spend twenty minutes… You spend twenty minutes with her; you want to spend twenty hours…
With this evening’s masses, I wanted to spend about thirty seconds less than thirty seconds… Sugar Bar completed their domination and scored a shutout… However, they should not salute or savor this triumph… If this were last week or Lodge Bar could have scraped together (and by scraped together, I mean admit anyone they could find) a crowd, Sugar Bar’s random recital might not have sufficed…
As the evening concluded, my twitter updates abruptly concluded, when I heard the most incomprehensible news… Crown Princess Kadi and Lodge Bar have separated… Crown Princess Kadi was this website’s initial superstar… She was the most referenced superstar and the first person I dealt with on an everyday basis… Her exodus is not merely disheartening…. Her exodus is devastating…
As I walked Vine Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with two thoughts… The first was obvious; this will likely be Crown Princess Kadi’s final mention in my column… The second was much more complex…
In the eyes and minds of venue executives, the natural slingers are akin to cattle… They are acquired, raised, and slaughtered without compassion or concern… In my eyes, they are the entire attraction… They are not a reason this website succeeds… They are the reason…
Tonight, Thursday Night Live experienced it’s second edition. I promise we will discuss the occurrences and results… However, this was an evening when winners were nonexistent. This was an evening when the squad atop the scoreboard didn’t defeat their opponents; they merely outscored them.
While the clutches were scattered and unmemorable, DJ Legend and DJ Samurai were exquisite. Last week, DJ Samurai was patterned and predictable. This evening, DJ Legend’s creativity was equaled… DJ Legend mixed “Love Story” dance remix… DJ Samurai responded with an “Other Side” dance remix. DJ Legend spun “How Do You Sleep” and “Summer Girls.” DJ Samurai responded with “Poker Face” over the “Rocky Theme.”
The clash was an auditory delight. If only the crowd could have merited this skirmish… Pre-game, Lodge Bar appeared to enjoy a minimal advantage. In-game, Sugar Bar scored the initial round, although their swarm induced wincing (and only some of it was mine)… Particularly putrid was their stage, which was inhabited by an amount of weight not seen since the NFL Draft’s top ten selections…
While the heifers were horrific, Emily Rose Perfection’s presence made their repulsiveness invisible. I know I typed that Emily Rose is my favorite Lucky Charm… She may be (although she has a crush of competition) my favorite platinum bunny, venue employee or non-employee, in this city… It’s not simply her fashion (green and white top, form flattering white shorts)… It’s not simply her eighteen carat personality… It’s not simply her thirty-six carat appearance… It’s the elegant, precocious, and scandalous combination of the trio…
From the moment she arrived to the moment she messed up my hair, Emily’s glamour and magnetism were omnipresent… I typed this once with another superstar, but at this moment, the verbiage is transferable… You think ultimately, I would run out of adjectives for her, but every moment, Emily Rose’s personality amazes me…
In the second round, the crowd continued to disappoint me… While Sugar Bar scored the sequence on numbers, Lodge Bar possessed almost every platinum bunny (except Emily Rose)… The venues were polar opposites with similar attributes… Lodge Bar with every morsel and zero mass… Sugar Bar with an impressive mass and zero morsels…
Since I mentioned morsels, I must spend several sentences adoring Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure, who has accomplished in six evenings, what some bunnies amass six weeks attempting… She has captivated and ensorcelled my attention…
It’s not merely her appearance, which is understatedly scrumptious… It is her intoxicating personality, which compels one to flirt with her, respect her, snuggle with her, and speak with her… You spend five minutes with Whitney; you want to spend twenty minutes… You spend twenty minutes with her; you want to spend twenty hours…
With this evening’s masses, I wanted to spend about thirty seconds less than thirty seconds… Sugar Bar completed their domination and scored a shutout… However, they should not salute or savor this triumph… If this were last week or Lodge Bar could have scraped together (and by scraped together, I mean admit anyone they could find) a crowd, Sugar Bar’s random recital might not have sufficed…
As the evening concluded, my twitter updates abruptly concluded, when I heard the most incomprehensible news… Crown Princess Kadi and Lodge Bar have separated… Crown Princess Kadi was this website’s initial superstar… She was the most referenced superstar and the first person I dealt with on an everyday basis… Her exodus is not merely disheartening…. Her exodus is devastating…
As I walked Vine Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with two thoughts… The first was obvious; this will likely be Crown Princess Kadi’s final mention in my column… The second was much more complex…
In the eyes and minds of venue executives, the natural slingers are akin to cattle… They are acquired, raised, and slaughtered without compassion or concern… In my eyes, they are the entire attraction… They are not a reason this website succeeds… They are the reason…
Friday, May 22, 2009
Champions Commence Thursday Night Live
While no one watched, two champions prepared. They assigned their employees… They discussed strategy and tactics… They prepped their entrances… They reviewed their procedures… Their work was rote, tedious, and unappreciated… Yet, everyone labored with the knowledge that this work could win or lose the evening…
As Thursday Night Live commenced, Sugar Bar was scattered… Amidst a conversation with Shawn Money (who I had several conversations with throughout the evening), I observed a line that was noticeable, yet was confined within ten feet… One week ago, the awaiting masses consumed half a block…
The clutches may have been random… However, the platinum bunnies were spectacular… Whether they were flirting with Shawn Money, as one twenty-year-old was or consuming free drinks in the walkway, as an exquisite, black dress bunny was, the visual obliterated any concerns or thoughts about the average arrivals…
Upon my arrival at Lodge Bar, their crowd was also sluggish… This provided me an opportunity to speak with Joe Information, whom I’ve mentioned previously… our wide ranging conversation (our conversations are consistently wide ranging) covers the evening and of all subjects boxing… It’s what I value about the closeness of my relationships with various employees; you are constantly scoring insights into their personalities… (Although Joe’s insight, his hatred of Floyd Mayweather, is ridiculous)…
For Lodge Bar’s first quarter, boxing is the appropriate metaphor… Lodge Bar didn’t win the first round…. However, they weren’t embarrassed either… Their crowd was expanding and respectable… And their bunnies and platinum bunnies were noticeable… As I returned to Sugar Bar for the second stanza, I knew this night could be interesting…
One hour into our twitter coverage, Sugar Bar’s exterior met anyone’s expectations… The line threatened to extend into an alley… As for Sugar Bar’s interior, the dance floor was crushed… There wasn’t visible space… There weren’t walkways… There was simply a cascade of people grinding and shaking….
When a venue’s population increases, I typically count this as wanted… Unfortunately, as I stared toward the collection of heifers and randoms which inhabited Sugar Bar’s dance floor, I reconsidered my entire thought process… Essentially, Sugar Bar swapped their first frame platinum bunnies for second frame total population… Population is population is population and population is needed… Yet, platinum bunnies are not negotiable…
Also not negotiable was Lodge Bar’s vastly improved second quarter… While their dance floor was vacant (which is rare for this venue), their upper and lower bars were swarmed and their walkway was virtually impassable… I stood and viewed the ever expanding crush from several angles and each screamed similar affirmations… This was Lodge Bar’s quarter…
Seconds ago (unless you are a very slow reader), I mentioned that the dance floor was vacant… The bunnies may not have been grinding, but they were present and scrumptious… I know you’re reading this and thinking, how much of a factor was the primping sex in my round by round evaluation… I’ll respond with this… They weren’t the factor, but when the total population is even, bunnies win the contest…
Another factor was DJ Legend, who completely overmatched DJ Samurai… Now, I will say this without hesitation, I sincerely respect DJ Samurai… He possesses skills… Unfortunately, his song selections never change… You can set your blackberry alarm by them… The rotation never alters… The sequence never wavers… I can recount his set list and I don’t even have to attend the event…
Conversely, DJ Legend is eclectic and exquisite… Whenever he spins, I know I will hear sequences or songs I haven’t or I never thought possible… Tonight’s marquee moment, another brilliant exhibition, was “Clothes Off” and “When I Grow Up” played consecutively… You don’t think of either as club or dance selections necessarily, but the pairing was perfect…
As Sugar Bar’s third quarter commenced, random was an apt description… From the overly tattooed female passed out in an alley to the heifer who walked past wearing a camouflage dress, the venue’s swap of quality for quantity continued… Obviously, numbers are important… But, any venue can rack up numbers… It’s the impression those numbers make…
The impression the venue’s interior made was incredible… The dance floor and lower mezzanine transcended crushed… And the stage was as crammed as I had ever witnessed… I knew a moment would occur, a moment always occurs, when one of these venues would draw a line and challenge the other… This was that moment… It took me less than three minutes to return to Lodge Bar with one thought… Could they respond?
Yes is the emphatic reaction… I entered the venue and immediately observed the obvious… The walkway was impassable… The dance floor was crushed… The upper and lower bars were crushed… The stage was crushed… Lodge Bar had taken Sugar Bar’s virtual flourish and responded with a shot to the mouth which would have made Manny Pacquiao applaud…
Eventually, I negotiated the crush and relocated to left of the stage… The platinum bunny visual was spectacular… They were dancing, they were singing, they were grinding… They were canoodling and coercing every chaser they could make eye contact with… Even the random basketball jersey wearers I referenced on twitter… Even one of them collected a cupcake…
When I returned to Sugar Bar, their crowd was scattering… The stage remained swarmed… However, the couch klatch and the lower mezzanine were reduced… The cove was almost vacant… As I shared consecutive shots with Avi Primetime and Shawn Money, the outcome wasn’t announced… It wasn’t conceded… But, it was implicit and understood… Despite the two premiere male promoters in this city, Sugar Bar would lose…
And they did… Lodge Bar was equally scattered as their conclusion arrived… Yet, their dance floor and upper and lower bars maintained the crowd required… their championship label had been thoroughly challenged… But, the championship remained within their hands…
While no one watched, two champions culminated their evening… One had endured an onslaught and survived… One remained proud and unashamed… As both cleaned and counted cash, scoured and swept, they labored with one universal thought… Rematches and victory within them are always possible…
As Thursday Night Live commenced, Sugar Bar was scattered… Amidst a conversation with Shawn Money (who I had several conversations with throughout the evening), I observed a line that was noticeable, yet was confined within ten feet… One week ago, the awaiting masses consumed half a block…
The clutches may have been random… However, the platinum bunnies were spectacular… Whether they were flirting with Shawn Money, as one twenty-year-old was or consuming free drinks in the walkway, as an exquisite, black dress bunny was, the visual obliterated any concerns or thoughts about the average arrivals…
Upon my arrival at Lodge Bar, their crowd was also sluggish… This provided me an opportunity to speak with Joe Information, whom I’ve mentioned previously… our wide ranging conversation (our conversations are consistently wide ranging) covers the evening and of all subjects boxing… It’s what I value about the closeness of my relationships with various employees; you are constantly scoring insights into their personalities… (Although Joe’s insight, his hatred of Floyd Mayweather, is ridiculous)…
For Lodge Bar’s first quarter, boxing is the appropriate metaphor… Lodge Bar didn’t win the first round…. However, they weren’t embarrassed either… Their crowd was expanding and respectable… And their bunnies and platinum bunnies were noticeable… As I returned to Sugar Bar for the second stanza, I knew this night could be interesting…
One hour into our twitter coverage, Sugar Bar’s exterior met anyone’s expectations… The line threatened to extend into an alley… As for Sugar Bar’s interior, the dance floor was crushed… There wasn’t visible space… There weren’t walkways… There was simply a cascade of people grinding and shaking….
When a venue’s population increases, I typically count this as wanted… Unfortunately, as I stared toward the collection of heifers and randoms which inhabited Sugar Bar’s dance floor, I reconsidered my entire thought process… Essentially, Sugar Bar swapped their first frame platinum bunnies for second frame total population… Population is population is population and population is needed… Yet, platinum bunnies are not negotiable…
Also not negotiable was Lodge Bar’s vastly improved second quarter… While their dance floor was vacant (which is rare for this venue), their upper and lower bars were swarmed and their walkway was virtually impassable… I stood and viewed the ever expanding crush from several angles and each screamed similar affirmations… This was Lodge Bar’s quarter…
Seconds ago (unless you are a very slow reader), I mentioned that the dance floor was vacant… The bunnies may not have been grinding, but they were present and scrumptious… I know you’re reading this and thinking, how much of a factor was the primping sex in my round by round evaluation… I’ll respond with this… They weren’t the factor, but when the total population is even, bunnies win the contest…
Another factor was DJ Legend, who completely overmatched DJ Samurai… Now, I will say this without hesitation, I sincerely respect DJ Samurai… He possesses skills… Unfortunately, his song selections never change… You can set your blackberry alarm by them… The rotation never alters… The sequence never wavers… I can recount his set list and I don’t even have to attend the event…
Conversely, DJ Legend is eclectic and exquisite… Whenever he spins, I know I will hear sequences or songs I haven’t or I never thought possible… Tonight’s marquee moment, another brilliant exhibition, was “Clothes Off” and “When I Grow Up” played consecutively… You don’t think of either as club or dance selections necessarily, but the pairing was perfect…
As Sugar Bar’s third quarter commenced, random was an apt description… From the overly tattooed female passed out in an alley to the heifer who walked past wearing a camouflage dress, the venue’s swap of quality for quantity continued… Obviously, numbers are important… But, any venue can rack up numbers… It’s the impression those numbers make…
The impression the venue’s interior made was incredible… The dance floor and lower mezzanine transcended crushed… And the stage was as crammed as I had ever witnessed… I knew a moment would occur, a moment always occurs, when one of these venues would draw a line and challenge the other… This was that moment… It took me less than three minutes to return to Lodge Bar with one thought… Could they respond?
Yes is the emphatic reaction… I entered the venue and immediately observed the obvious… The walkway was impassable… The dance floor was crushed… The upper and lower bars were crushed… The stage was crushed… Lodge Bar had taken Sugar Bar’s virtual flourish and responded with a shot to the mouth which would have made Manny Pacquiao applaud…
Eventually, I negotiated the crush and relocated to left of the stage… The platinum bunny visual was spectacular… They were dancing, they were singing, they were grinding… They were canoodling and coercing every chaser they could make eye contact with… Even the random basketball jersey wearers I referenced on twitter… Even one of them collected a cupcake…
When I returned to Sugar Bar, their crowd was scattering… The stage remained swarmed… However, the couch klatch and the lower mezzanine were reduced… The cove was almost vacant… As I shared consecutive shots with Avi Primetime and Shawn Money, the outcome wasn’t announced… It wasn’t conceded… But, it was implicit and understood… Despite the two premiere male promoters in this city, Sugar Bar would lose…
And they did… Lodge Bar was equally scattered as their conclusion arrived… Yet, their dance floor and upper and lower bars maintained the crowd required… their championship label had been thoroughly challenged… But, the championship remained within their hands…
While no one watched, two champions culminated their evening… One had endured an onslaught and survived… One remained proud and unashamed… As both cleaned and counted cash, scoured and swept, they labored with one universal thought… Rematches and victory within them are always possible…
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I Stood Five Feet From Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Column
Prominence is important. Proximity to prominence is imperative. Not everyone can be prominent. Not everyone can possess access or contacts. Befriending someone of prominence, ingratiating yourself within their circle, affords importance, opportunity, and reputation. (And before anyone writes complaining that the title insults Fall Out Boy, Sugar Bar, or the evening, the title is a play on a Fall Out Boy song)…
Within thirty minutes of my arrival (some of which was twittered, some of which was not), Park Street Patio and Sugar were swarmed with stars… The Famed Four, Co-Owners Chris Corso, Mike Gallichio, and Brian Swanson and Promotions Superstar Randy Haffey were expected… R Bar Co-Owners Mike and Natalie Darr, who were seated at a table in the lower mezzanine, were not… McFadden’s General Manager Damien Fuller, who was enjoying a drink, was not…
Also not expected was Onyx Promotions Superstar and Nightlife Notable Randee, who I encountered as she stood flummoxed, unable to cross between venues… Why was she unable to cross? Sugar’s security person was carrying out his assignment (also known as acting like an…)… Randee and I spoke for five minutes, as she waited, discussing her upcoming Models and Moguls event, Onyx Thursday and Saturday evenings, and city buzz…
Finally, she was allowed to traverse the hallway between Sugar Bar and Park Street Patio… I’ll return to discussing her in moments, but for this moment, let me address a previous sentence… Sugar Bar’s security people are professional and I understand they have responsibilities… However, people skills wouldn’t injure them and they aren’t that hard to master…
A craft which is hard to master is mixing… However, Gonzo has succeeded… I encountered the national sensation in Park Street Patio, as he celebrated his nationwide syndication and prepared for the other half of the Fall Out Boy After Party… Gonzo’s peppiness, which normally can exhaust red bull, was obvious this evening… It’s not as if anyone ever questioned his talent, but this announcement (which you can read above if you haven’t already) was validation he has always deserved…
After twenty minutes of watching Gonzo dart between activities and darting between activities myself, DJ Triple A, Randee, and myself convened below Park Street Patio’s stage… Intermittently, Gonzo joined the conversation as we discussed the evening and various venues… I’m certain I’ve said this previously, but if I haven’t I should have… The access to these conversations, the camaraderie between the Generation 1 a.m. working set is the only reward I will ever require from this occupation…
Speaking of rewards, the Ultimate Vodka Party was a perfect diversion as both Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar awaited Fall Out Boy’s arrival. I was told (and I cant imagine this is true) that the Ultimate Vodka Party was the evening’s attraction, that Pete Wentz and company were merely an occurrence… I assume some of the venue superstars who I have mentioned appeared strictly for research… Yet, I can’t fathom someone planning their evening out around an alcohol and not a celebrity…
What I also can’t fathom is doughnut holes, an item which cost $2.50 (not $1.77 as I twittered), as a venue desert item… Apparently, Corso can… We sample the moist morsels, which are scrumptious (would I pay what he wants to charge, likely not) and discuss the NBA and NHL playoffs… In his estimation, the Detroit Red Wings win game seven over Anaheim…
In my estimation, this crowd was not Sugar Bar’s most iconic… I twittered every second of Brody Jenner and Donnie Wahlberg’s appearances… Jenner’s included marginally passable walkways and limited dance floor and mezzanine space…. Wahlberg’s crushed every area with only a minimal walkway on the stairs… Tonight, the upper mezzanine and couch area were swarmed… The lower mezzanine and dance floor were merely buzzed…
Now, I know what you’re thinking… I’m not using the word crushed, because I am judging Sugar Bar on the basis of those other two events… I am and I won’t apologize for this… The thing about expectations is that when you perform well, they increase and you have to match them… Why not simply decrease expectations? Because that’s not the way expectations work… Performers who perform must perform or sentences as were typed above get typed…
Am I labeling Sugar Bar’s evening a failure? I am not… I am simply stating the obvious… This crowd did not match previous productions and thus, did not meet expectations… The evening was exemplary… It was one worthy of praise and a lengthy column (which you are reading right now)… However, Jenner topped other nights and Walhberg topped Jenner… This topped neither…
Following two hours, one hundred stars, and a dozen scary heifers (we’ll talk crowd composition shortly, I know you’re awaiting my opinion), Fall Out Boy arrived… Unlike Jenner and Walhberg, the crowd didn’t suffocate them… A Secret Service phalanx wasn’t required… I attribute this to Fall Out Boy’s appearance (if you have ever seen them, they blend into their generation comfortably) and their affability with the crowd…
Jenner adored the attention, but still set himself apart… Kourtney Kardashian could have not spoken to a single person and been thrilled… Fall Out Boy mingled, they danced, they didn’t appear to be genuinely enjoying themselves, they were genuinely enjoying themselves… They are and were twenty-five plus year old males with influence, money, and power… And yet they acted as if they were four twenty-five plus year old males who would attend class at Ohio State this morning…
I promised we’d discuss crowd composition and I want to state right now, before you continue reading, that I may offend anyone even if you aren’t one of the people I directly reference… Wednesday’s crowd possessed some bunnies and they were gorgeous…. Unfortunately, the bulk (and the use of that word is intentional) of the crowd was heifers… And I’m not talking the heifers who I usually assail… I’m talking heifers large enough to feed third world nations for decades, five of which, three in black, one in teal, and one in blue, could have formed an offensive line that any running back could have hidden behind for months…
They crowded Sugar Bar’s stage and turned it from normal paradise to nauseatingly putrid… The invaded the cage, grinding their flab until I wanted to puke… They plagued the dance floor and walkway, dancing and pretending as if no one could see them… I saw them… I assume everyone saw them and the image is enough to fill a half dozen trashcans with vomit… And that’s prior to anyone having even a sip of alcohol…
I know what I’ve said isn’t polite and if you abhorred that, you’ll loathe this… Don’t these plus size porpoises realize the obvious as they sit in front of their mirrors? Don’t they realize as they view all of their repulsiveness in their mirror that they have no friends for a reason… That their phones never ring for a reason… I have said it previously, I will say it again, heifers have a right to a social life, but why must they exercise this right? Why must they put us through this horror?
Life isn’t only for the gorgeous… And I’m sure I will have a volume of e-mail because of the last three paragraphs… But, I’m merely speaking honesty to obesity… The heifers I witnessed on this evening should comprehend why they were high school pariahs, college pariahs, and why they remain pariahs… Personality counts only in the case that appearance opens the door… I’m assuming these heifers have had more than a few doors slammed in their faces…
I had zero expectations as Pete Wentz entered the booth for his spin set at approximately one a.m. Obviously, he can write a song… He can play a song… But, could he equal the skills of DJ Samurai or Gonzo…. Would he even attempt this? As Wentz assumed control of the music, he wasn’t starved for attention… Every set of eyes in the venue, from the couch to the mezzanine to the floor was on him…
Now, I mentioned that this crowd was not equivalent to Wahlberg’s crush… What I did not mention was that has it’s advantages… Specifically, I was able to, with relative ease, traverse from the upper mezzanine to the right side of the booth, a simple jump from Wentz… The energy and the visual around him were incredible… I’ve always said that I judge a venue on energy, not on overall crowd size… The energy surrounding Wentz was exemplary…
If only the same could be said for his spinning precision… His song selection was spectacular... “Wonderwall,” “Don’t Stop Believing,” “99 Problems...” He had the crowd frenzied… With that said, I am an untrained evaluator and thus I sought several opinions when the performance concluded… The consensus of those who know what they are speaking of is that Wentz is a great celebrity and a lousy DJ…
As the evening concluded, Gonzo and I sat on the stage in Park Street Patio… This night for various persons and various reasons was triumphant… Not everyone could be considered a sweetheart and some (as I have typed) needed to simply drop dead… But, on this rare occasion, everyone was within steps of someone superior… Everyone, for a few hours, enjoyed proximately to prominence…
Within thirty minutes of my arrival (some of which was twittered, some of which was not), Park Street Patio and Sugar were swarmed with stars… The Famed Four, Co-Owners Chris Corso, Mike Gallichio, and Brian Swanson and Promotions Superstar Randy Haffey were expected… R Bar Co-Owners Mike and Natalie Darr, who were seated at a table in the lower mezzanine, were not… McFadden’s General Manager Damien Fuller, who was enjoying a drink, was not…
Also not expected was Onyx Promotions Superstar and Nightlife Notable Randee, who I encountered as she stood flummoxed, unable to cross between venues… Why was she unable to cross? Sugar’s security person was carrying out his assignment (also known as acting like an…)… Randee and I spoke for five minutes, as she waited, discussing her upcoming Models and Moguls event, Onyx Thursday and Saturday evenings, and city buzz…
Finally, she was allowed to traverse the hallway between Sugar Bar and Park Street Patio… I’ll return to discussing her in moments, but for this moment, let me address a previous sentence… Sugar Bar’s security people are professional and I understand they have responsibilities… However, people skills wouldn’t injure them and they aren’t that hard to master…
A craft which is hard to master is mixing… However, Gonzo has succeeded… I encountered the national sensation in Park Street Patio, as he celebrated his nationwide syndication and prepared for the other half of the Fall Out Boy After Party… Gonzo’s peppiness, which normally can exhaust red bull, was obvious this evening… It’s not as if anyone ever questioned his talent, but this announcement (which you can read above if you haven’t already) was validation he has always deserved…
After twenty minutes of watching Gonzo dart between activities and darting between activities myself, DJ Triple A, Randee, and myself convened below Park Street Patio’s stage… Intermittently, Gonzo joined the conversation as we discussed the evening and various venues… I’m certain I’ve said this previously, but if I haven’t I should have… The access to these conversations, the camaraderie between the Generation 1 a.m. working set is the only reward I will ever require from this occupation…
Speaking of rewards, the Ultimate Vodka Party was a perfect diversion as both Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar awaited Fall Out Boy’s arrival. I was told (and I cant imagine this is true) that the Ultimate Vodka Party was the evening’s attraction, that Pete Wentz and company were merely an occurrence… I assume some of the venue superstars who I have mentioned appeared strictly for research… Yet, I can’t fathom someone planning their evening out around an alcohol and not a celebrity…
What I also can’t fathom is doughnut holes, an item which cost $2.50 (not $1.77 as I twittered), as a venue desert item… Apparently, Corso can… We sample the moist morsels, which are scrumptious (would I pay what he wants to charge, likely not) and discuss the NBA and NHL playoffs… In his estimation, the Detroit Red Wings win game seven over Anaheim…
In my estimation, this crowd was not Sugar Bar’s most iconic… I twittered every second of Brody Jenner and Donnie Wahlberg’s appearances… Jenner’s included marginally passable walkways and limited dance floor and mezzanine space…. Wahlberg’s crushed every area with only a minimal walkway on the stairs… Tonight, the upper mezzanine and couch area were swarmed… The lower mezzanine and dance floor were merely buzzed…
Now, I know what you’re thinking… I’m not using the word crushed, because I am judging Sugar Bar on the basis of those other two events… I am and I won’t apologize for this… The thing about expectations is that when you perform well, they increase and you have to match them… Why not simply decrease expectations? Because that’s not the way expectations work… Performers who perform must perform or sentences as were typed above get typed…
Am I labeling Sugar Bar’s evening a failure? I am not… I am simply stating the obvious… This crowd did not match previous productions and thus, did not meet expectations… The evening was exemplary… It was one worthy of praise and a lengthy column (which you are reading right now)… However, Jenner topped other nights and Walhberg topped Jenner… This topped neither…
Following two hours, one hundred stars, and a dozen scary heifers (we’ll talk crowd composition shortly, I know you’re awaiting my opinion), Fall Out Boy arrived… Unlike Jenner and Walhberg, the crowd didn’t suffocate them… A Secret Service phalanx wasn’t required… I attribute this to Fall Out Boy’s appearance (if you have ever seen them, they blend into their generation comfortably) and their affability with the crowd…
Jenner adored the attention, but still set himself apart… Kourtney Kardashian could have not spoken to a single person and been thrilled… Fall Out Boy mingled, they danced, they didn’t appear to be genuinely enjoying themselves, they were genuinely enjoying themselves… They are and were twenty-five plus year old males with influence, money, and power… And yet they acted as if they were four twenty-five plus year old males who would attend class at Ohio State this morning…
I promised we’d discuss crowd composition and I want to state right now, before you continue reading, that I may offend anyone even if you aren’t one of the people I directly reference… Wednesday’s crowd possessed some bunnies and they were gorgeous…. Unfortunately, the bulk (and the use of that word is intentional) of the crowd was heifers… And I’m not talking the heifers who I usually assail… I’m talking heifers large enough to feed third world nations for decades, five of which, three in black, one in teal, and one in blue, could have formed an offensive line that any running back could have hidden behind for months…
They crowded Sugar Bar’s stage and turned it from normal paradise to nauseatingly putrid… The invaded the cage, grinding their flab until I wanted to puke… They plagued the dance floor and walkway, dancing and pretending as if no one could see them… I saw them… I assume everyone saw them and the image is enough to fill a half dozen trashcans with vomit… And that’s prior to anyone having even a sip of alcohol…
I know what I’ve said isn’t polite and if you abhorred that, you’ll loathe this… Don’t these plus size porpoises realize the obvious as they sit in front of their mirrors? Don’t they realize as they view all of their repulsiveness in their mirror that they have no friends for a reason… That their phones never ring for a reason… I have said it previously, I will say it again, heifers have a right to a social life, but why must they exercise this right? Why must they put us through this horror?
Life isn’t only for the gorgeous… And I’m sure I will have a volume of e-mail because of the last three paragraphs… But, I’m merely speaking honesty to obesity… The heifers I witnessed on this evening should comprehend why they were high school pariahs, college pariahs, and why they remain pariahs… Personality counts only in the case that appearance opens the door… I’m assuming these heifers have had more than a few doors slammed in their faces…
I had zero expectations as Pete Wentz entered the booth for his spin set at approximately one a.m. Obviously, he can write a song… He can play a song… But, could he equal the skills of DJ Samurai or Gonzo…. Would he even attempt this? As Wentz assumed control of the music, he wasn’t starved for attention… Every set of eyes in the venue, from the couch to the mezzanine to the floor was on him…
Now, I mentioned that this crowd was not equivalent to Wahlberg’s crush… What I did not mention was that has it’s advantages… Specifically, I was able to, with relative ease, traverse from the upper mezzanine to the right side of the booth, a simple jump from Wentz… The energy and the visual around him were incredible… I’ve always said that I judge a venue on energy, not on overall crowd size… The energy surrounding Wentz was exemplary…
If only the same could be said for his spinning precision… His song selection was spectacular... “Wonderwall,” “Don’t Stop Believing,” “99 Problems...” He had the crowd frenzied… With that said, I am an untrained evaluator and thus I sought several opinions when the performance concluded… The consensus of those who know what they are speaking of is that Wentz is a great celebrity and a lousy DJ…
As the evening concluded, Gonzo and I sat on the stage in Park Street Patio… This night for various persons and various reasons was triumphant… Not everyone could be considered a sweetheart and some (as I have typed) needed to simply drop dead… But, on this rare occasion, everyone was within steps of someone superior… Everyone, for a few hours, enjoyed proximately to prominence…
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
A Sanctuary Amongst Skyscrapers
Venues are a personal choice. Some prefer a calm and conversational atmosphere. Some prefer a chaotic and crushed energy. Some prefer a vibrant dance environment. Some prefer a visually scrumptious panorama.
Upon my arrival for Cinco de Mayo, Park Street Patio was stirring. The only negative aspect was the venue itself. Only the patio was accessible. Despite the pre-summer chill in the air and the threat of rain, the indoor setting remained dark and vacant. Who thought that was a brilliant idea?
As for the crowd, they were communal and relaxed. From the tables to the outdoor grill to DJ Samurai spinning in open air, the entire evening possessed a backyard barbecue ambiance. Then again, how many backyard barbecues occur above the I-670 overpass with a major city as their backdrop?
The eclectic and mutual expression shared by friends consuming beer buckets and random acquaintances discussing and watching basketball, painted an essentially familial portrait. What Park Street Patio offered on Tuesday is mirrored at thousands of parties in hundreds of cities across this nation. The scene was not unique. It was comfortably enjoyable.
Uncomfortable, is this city’s expanding obsession with the Cleveland Cavaliers, which was again obvious this evening. Sugar Bar and Park Street Patio Co-Owner Brian Swanson epitomized this obsession. He hyped the franchise, labeled the season “the Cavs year,” and even offered a wager to me based upon the team’s finals results (I will politely decline)… Columbus, seriously, you are not a basketball city… You’re not even a college basketball city. Stop seeking a champion and enjoy your three-month Ohio State-USC vacation.
As I exited the cozy air of the venue’s tiki torches and entered the pre-summer chill I mentioned previously, my eyes redirected toward the imposing city skyline that was close enough to grasp and yet several blocks away. For only a moment, the minor attitude of this major city was welcome. It was hometown.
Upon my arrival for Cinco de Mayo, Park Street Patio was stirring. The only negative aspect was the venue itself. Only the patio was accessible. Despite the pre-summer chill in the air and the threat of rain, the indoor setting remained dark and vacant. Who thought that was a brilliant idea?
As for the crowd, they were communal and relaxed. From the tables to the outdoor grill to DJ Samurai spinning in open air, the entire evening possessed a backyard barbecue ambiance. Then again, how many backyard barbecues occur above the I-670 overpass with a major city as their backdrop?
The eclectic and mutual expression shared by friends consuming beer buckets and random acquaintances discussing and watching basketball, painted an essentially familial portrait. What Park Street Patio offered on Tuesday is mirrored at thousands of parties in hundreds of cities across this nation. The scene was not unique. It was comfortably enjoyable.
Uncomfortable, is this city’s expanding obsession with the Cleveland Cavaliers, which was again obvious this evening. Sugar Bar and Park Street Patio Co-Owner Brian Swanson epitomized this obsession. He hyped the franchise, labeled the season “the Cavs year,” and even offered a wager to me based upon the team’s finals results (I will politely decline)… Columbus, seriously, you are not a basketball city… You’re not even a college basketball city. Stop seeking a champion and enjoy your three-month Ohio State-USC vacation.
As I exited the cozy air of the venue’s tiki torches and entered the pre-summer chill I mentioned previously, my eyes redirected toward the imposing city skyline that was close enough to grasp and yet several blocks away. For only a moment, the minor attitude of this major city was welcome. It was hometown.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Cinco de Mayo 2009: Park Street Patio
Commencement: 4:00Venue: Park Street Patio (533 Park Street)
Performances
DJ Samurai
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Bunnies Balance Fashion Failure
Variety is imperative… I’ve never understood those people who enjoy only one beer… only one shot… only one kind of people… only one type of venue… In my opinion, only one circumstance permits perpetual repetition… marriage.
Upon my arrival at Sugar Bar, the energy was evident… The crowd, as per usual, was late arriving… But, one could sense an atmosphere… Tonight would not wallow with the pierced, seedy, tattooed societal rejects that were present two nights earlier… Tonight would epitomize what this city expects when it enters Sugar Bar…
And what I expect (and I know I’m not speaking for myself here) are bunnies… Clutches of bunnies… Collections of bunnies… Bunnies in the upper mezzanine… Bunnies on the dance floor… Bunnies everywhere… On this evening, the bunnies were crawling from the moment I arrived… And the variety was spectacular…
From the bleach blonde bunny (who if the lights went out, you could still spot… I swear that hair would glow in the dark) to the bunny with the perfect skirt… From Park Street Bunny Mia, who sat cozy at a corner table to the blonde, Sugar Bar dance bunny, who literally had a folded up twenty visible on her camouflage… Every potential craving and obsession was addressable…
Their fashion was mostly flawless… Their mesmerizing array of tops blended perfectly with their skirts and jeans… It’s not like one is not accustomed to bunnies at Sugar Bar (on most nights, it might as well be renamed Sugar Bunny)… Still… When one can eye the dance floor and without effort, view a half dozen exquisite treasures… This is a perfect evening…
Adding to the perfection was DJ Samurai, whose precision was a delight to hear and observe… Now, I had seen Samurai work previously… However, until one affords his skill complete attention (and I only afforded it partial attention, thank you bunnies), one cannot appreciate the depth of his talent… Blending “All Night Long” and “Public Service Announcement” (and this is merely one example, I could name a half dozen) was enough to convince me… Samurai is a superstar…
Unfortunately, he is was the only one on Sugar Bar’s stage this evening… Approximately 12:30, the Red Planet Fashion Show commenced… Within two minutes, I was praying it would conclude… The collection was a complete calamity… Whatever the designer was drinking when he sketched and executed this mess… I want a triple…
The women’s collection was vastly superior to the men’s… Unfortunately, it included only a pair of superstars… One of those, I must discuss… A gorgeous gray sweater and jeans… They were casual, yet versatile, form fitting and flattering and the model who wore the ensemble was the prize bunny of the evening… Perfect structure, perfect hair, and a face, which any artist could not have replicated…
No artist would want to replicate the men’s collection… I could spend the entire column scorching it (but I don’t have that kind of time)… The second piece of the collection… A shirt which read “I Make Great Babies”… Is there a bunny in this city that would not see that shirt and fall to the floor laughing at the loser wearing it? Is there a male in this city who would actually purchase it? This shirt alone, which should be incinerated promptly, ruined the collection…
But, the endeavor got worse… Every male model insisted on removing their shirt… Were they attending a fashion show or a strip club audition (I thought those were Wednesday)… And once the shirts were removed, the belt buckles were revealed… Now, I know a lot of males that wear a belt… But, none that wear glittering, gigantic belt buckles… What was the designer’s inspiration for this store of stupidity… President George W. Akon?
As putrid (and I mean putrid) as the Red Planet Disaster was, the night emphasized why there is seldom a regrettable evening at Sugar Bar… Bunnies and variety are the cornerstones of this city… They are why everyone (except for maybe the bunnies themselves) litters Park Street each evening…
Upon my arrival at Sugar Bar, the energy was evident… The crowd, as per usual, was late arriving… But, one could sense an atmosphere… Tonight would not wallow with the pierced, seedy, tattooed societal rejects that were present two nights earlier… Tonight would epitomize what this city expects when it enters Sugar Bar…
And what I expect (and I know I’m not speaking for myself here) are bunnies… Clutches of bunnies… Collections of bunnies… Bunnies in the upper mezzanine… Bunnies on the dance floor… Bunnies everywhere… On this evening, the bunnies were crawling from the moment I arrived… And the variety was spectacular…
From the bleach blonde bunny (who if the lights went out, you could still spot… I swear that hair would glow in the dark) to the bunny with the perfect skirt… From Park Street Bunny Mia, who sat cozy at a corner table to the blonde, Sugar Bar dance bunny, who literally had a folded up twenty visible on her camouflage… Every potential craving and obsession was addressable…
Their fashion was mostly flawless… Their mesmerizing array of tops blended perfectly with their skirts and jeans… It’s not like one is not accustomed to bunnies at Sugar Bar (on most nights, it might as well be renamed Sugar Bunny)… Still… When one can eye the dance floor and without effort, view a half dozen exquisite treasures… This is a perfect evening…
Adding to the perfection was DJ Samurai, whose precision was a delight to hear and observe… Now, I had seen Samurai work previously… However, until one affords his skill complete attention (and I only afforded it partial attention, thank you bunnies), one cannot appreciate the depth of his talent… Blending “All Night Long” and “Public Service Announcement” (and this is merely one example, I could name a half dozen) was enough to convince me… Samurai is a superstar…
Unfortunately, he is was the only one on Sugar Bar’s stage this evening… Approximately 12:30, the Red Planet Fashion Show commenced… Within two minutes, I was praying it would conclude… The collection was a complete calamity… Whatever the designer was drinking when he sketched and executed this mess… I want a triple…
The women’s collection was vastly superior to the men’s… Unfortunately, it included only a pair of superstars… One of those, I must discuss… A gorgeous gray sweater and jeans… They were casual, yet versatile, form fitting and flattering and the model who wore the ensemble was the prize bunny of the evening… Perfect structure, perfect hair, and a face, which any artist could not have replicated…
No artist would want to replicate the men’s collection… I could spend the entire column scorching it (but I don’t have that kind of time)… The second piece of the collection… A shirt which read “I Make Great Babies”… Is there a bunny in this city that would not see that shirt and fall to the floor laughing at the loser wearing it? Is there a male in this city who would actually purchase it? This shirt alone, which should be incinerated promptly, ruined the collection…
But, the endeavor got worse… Every male model insisted on removing their shirt… Were they attending a fashion show or a strip club audition (I thought those were Wednesday)… And once the shirts were removed, the belt buckles were revealed… Now, I know a lot of males that wear a belt… But, none that wear glittering, gigantic belt buckles… What was the designer’s inspiration for this store of stupidity… President George W. Akon?
As putrid (and I mean putrid) as the Red Planet Disaster was, the night emphasized why there is seldom a regrettable evening at Sugar Bar… Bunnies and variety are the cornerstones of this city… They are why everyone (except for maybe the bunnies themselves) litters Park Street each evening…
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Bottle It Up
I’ve attended Sugar Bar on iconic nights… I twittered every second of Brody Jenner’s visit… I’ve attended other venues on iconic nights… Let me say this in capital terms… I have never experienced anything close to what I experienced Friday evening…
Prior to my arrival at Sugar Bar, I had expectations for the evening… As I said, I attended Jenner’s appearance… However, I had zero comprehension of what awaited me, as I walked the concrete from the Frog Bear and Wild Boar to Sugar Bar… Upon my arrival, one fact was immediately obvious… This was not Jenner’s appearance…
I walked the entrance carpet and through the doors, arriving below upper mezzanine, adjacent from the coat check area… As I said on twitter, the only appropriate word was wow… The couch area was crawling… The stairs held a slight path… However, the upper and lower mezzanine and the dance floor was crushed… Not crushed as in the typical sense… Not crushed as in you could barely walk toward the bathroom or the stage or another area… Crushed as in completely impassable…
With fifteen minutes until Donnie Wahlberg’s appearance (he was apparently running slightly behind schedule), I settled to the left of the upper mezzanine, where Chris Corso, Mike Gallichio, Brian Swanson, Gonzo, and two dozen bunnies were roped off inside the evening’s prime piece of real estate… I debated in my mind, text someone, let them know I am here… I knew if they knew I had arrived, I would end up in that real estate…
Approximately, five minutes after that thought traversed its way through my mind, I spotted Gallichio walking past me… We hugged… We shared a quick exchange… He exited, he returned, and not ten minutes after I had desired entrance, I gained entrance… Upper mezzanine, inside the ropes, with the crème de la crème of city nightclub society…
As I settled myself within the mezzanine, it didn’t take seconds to realize this was location… It didn’t take seconds to realize that anyone of the thousand screaming masses on the floor or behind the ropes would trade places with me in a second… Swanson and I talked… Corso and I talked… Amidst the multiple digital flashes and the crush, it wasn’t lost on any of us that we were the envied…
It also wasn’t lost on anyone that Gonzo had made his triumphant return to Sugar Bar… I know I’ve discussed Gonzo previously, but all prior words now seem inadequate… From the moment I walked into upper mezzanine, you could tell that Gonzo was within ecstasy… Spitting perfect phrases, texting, talking, enjoying the music… Gonzo owned the initial portion of the evening… I’ve said this before, I will say this again… When you have the chance to listen to an artist with passion… Savor it… There is nothing better in this world…
Speaking of master craftsman, DJ Samurai was completing the tone for the evening… From throwing a remix beat under “Creep” and “Lose Your Love” to, for the second straight night (although by another artist), throwing a dance beat under “Wonderwall,” DJ Samurai was incomprehensible… Dancing to his talent seemed insufficient… You wanted to frame it and sell it at auction…
And the trio with enough money to buy it at auction were standing inches from me in upper mezzanine… With smiles of satisfaction on their faces (and they deserved them for the way the night was unfolding), Corso, Gallichio, and Swanson chatted with other fortunate mezzanine mavens and stared into the throng of people, stirring with anticipation for Wahlberg’s arrival…
Forget anxiety or worry over how the night would progress…. From the moment I arrived, it was clear the titan trinity was celebrating their success… Every glance from them, every handshake with them was an affirmation… In Gallichio’s case, it was a admonition… Make sure Saturday’s column equals the majesty of this evening (I’ll return to that subject shortly)…
Finally, Donnie Wahlberg, flanked by security that would made have made glass case enclosed items jealous, arrived… Wearing jeans and a jacket, with a hat, and a bandana around his neck, he personified the street wise heartthrob that bunnies spent the better part of their adolescence fawning over… He was only inside Sugar Bar for ten minutes before stepping to the microphone…
Back dropped by a crush of bunnies, two of which were holding signs that read “Get at Me” and “Dew Me,” and eyeing a swarm of digital flashes, that would have made the Super Bowl’s opening kickoff jealous, he smiled and strutted and spoke and the bunnies swallowed every word twice… “I didn’t come to Columbus to sleep,” he implied… Trust me, no one was sleeping or dancing or taking their eyes off of the mezzanine while he was present…
The way that I know they weren’t is the crush intensified… The crush was unbelievable… In the upper mezzanine, feet from me, a rope line of five security guards, walled off heartbroken heifers, who holding cameras and pictures, were pleading for access… Alas, access, thanks to the granite wall, was denied…
The phenomenon was nothing I had ever witnessed… Jenner was famous and arguably more relevant given reality television’s success… Kirk Herbstreit is more notable within the city… Yet, he could freely walk without fear at Park Street Patio… Wahlberg was surrounded… As his presence in the venue continued, the swarm exploded… The chain grew to a sixth security guard on one side… Two security guards on the other and on the dance floor, no one was shaking their ass… Every eye was on Wahlberg…
As he took the microphone for a second time to announce that the New Kids on the Block will be returning to Columbus (the Full Service Tour) this summer, the digital flashes outnumbered the amount of people staring toward the stage (and there were at minimum a thousand people)… Wahlberg danced as the music returned… He was clearly consuming the attention….
Something else that was clear that Gonzo kept disappearing… After about an hour of watching him exit and enter the mezzanine, I discovered why… He had been seeking a song, a rare track, that Wahlberg would perform to later… Leave it to Gonzo to score huge on an already huge night… And leave it to the crowd to swell beyond what I ever conceived…
By the time Wahlberg was set to speak for the third of what turned out to be three occasions, there was literally no room to breathe at any point in Sugar Bar… The mezzanine had even engorged beyond capacity… As this occurred, my phone died, at a big event, yet again… I rapidly borrowed Gonzo’s phone to twitter a sign off, unaware of the spectacle which would ensue in heartbeats…
With microphone in hand and the music omnipresent, Walhberg strutted and straddled the line between showman and stuntman, as he performed “Full Service…” The throng was with him word for word… They were pitch perfect… He smiled, he soaked up the attention, and akin to a trapeze artist, he worked the cage bar as if it were a stripper pole… Swinging out, never making contact with the crowd, and returning… It was amazing…
As he exited the stage, encircled again by security, Wahlberg approached the ropes and was herded toward the exit… And the herd, which had crammed the outside mezzanine and the lower mezzanine and the dance floor, followed him… There was a literal stampede of people, who all night had begged for access into where I was standing… They were now chasing Wahlberg into the street… The sheer volume of the delirium of the heifers and the lengths they would go to for one minute with their idol made me wince… It also made me realize once again, why I love this website…
Throughout the night, the outsiders had begged for access, when I had access… They wanted to stand with Gonzo, talk with Gallichio, and be feet from Wahlberg… but I was… See the mistake everyone makes with this life is that it’s about joining the party… It’s not about joining the party… I’m part of the party and I can tell you, I don’t talk about the access or take the access because I want to say to someone, I’ve been here or done this… In the words of Wahlberg , “I do it for love…”
I also do it to say these five words to Gallichio (told you we’d return to his lobbying)… Your thoughts on the column?
Prior to my arrival at Sugar Bar, I had expectations for the evening… As I said, I attended Jenner’s appearance… However, I had zero comprehension of what awaited me, as I walked the concrete from the Frog Bear and Wild Boar to Sugar Bar… Upon my arrival, one fact was immediately obvious… This was not Jenner’s appearance…
I walked the entrance carpet and through the doors, arriving below upper mezzanine, adjacent from the coat check area… As I said on twitter, the only appropriate word was wow… The couch area was crawling… The stairs held a slight path… However, the upper and lower mezzanine and the dance floor was crushed… Not crushed as in the typical sense… Not crushed as in you could barely walk toward the bathroom or the stage or another area… Crushed as in completely impassable…
With fifteen minutes until Donnie Wahlberg’s appearance (he was apparently running slightly behind schedule), I settled to the left of the upper mezzanine, where Chris Corso, Mike Gallichio, Brian Swanson, Gonzo, and two dozen bunnies were roped off inside the evening’s prime piece of real estate… I debated in my mind, text someone, let them know I am here… I knew if they knew I had arrived, I would end up in that real estate…
Approximately, five minutes after that thought traversed its way through my mind, I spotted Gallichio walking past me… We hugged… We shared a quick exchange… He exited, he returned, and not ten minutes after I had desired entrance, I gained entrance… Upper mezzanine, inside the ropes, with the crème de la crème of city nightclub society…
As I settled myself within the mezzanine, it didn’t take seconds to realize this was location… It didn’t take seconds to realize that anyone of the thousand screaming masses on the floor or behind the ropes would trade places with me in a second… Swanson and I talked… Corso and I talked… Amidst the multiple digital flashes and the crush, it wasn’t lost on any of us that we were the envied…
It also wasn’t lost on anyone that Gonzo had made his triumphant return to Sugar Bar… I know I’ve discussed Gonzo previously, but all prior words now seem inadequate… From the moment I walked into upper mezzanine, you could tell that Gonzo was within ecstasy… Spitting perfect phrases, texting, talking, enjoying the music… Gonzo owned the initial portion of the evening… I’ve said this before, I will say this again… When you have the chance to listen to an artist with passion… Savor it… There is nothing better in this world…
Speaking of master craftsman, DJ Samurai was completing the tone for the evening… From throwing a remix beat under “Creep” and “Lose Your Love” to, for the second straight night (although by another artist), throwing a dance beat under “Wonderwall,” DJ Samurai was incomprehensible… Dancing to his talent seemed insufficient… You wanted to frame it and sell it at auction…
And the trio with enough money to buy it at auction were standing inches from me in upper mezzanine… With smiles of satisfaction on their faces (and they deserved them for the way the night was unfolding), Corso, Gallichio, and Swanson chatted with other fortunate mezzanine mavens and stared into the throng of people, stirring with anticipation for Wahlberg’s arrival…
Forget anxiety or worry over how the night would progress…. From the moment I arrived, it was clear the titan trinity was celebrating their success… Every glance from them, every handshake with them was an affirmation… In Gallichio’s case, it was a admonition… Make sure Saturday’s column equals the majesty of this evening (I’ll return to that subject shortly)…
Finally, Donnie Wahlberg, flanked by security that would made have made glass case enclosed items jealous, arrived… Wearing jeans and a jacket, with a hat, and a bandana around his neck, he personified the street wise heartthrob that bunnies spent the better part of their adolescence fawning over… He was only inside Sugar Bar for ten minutes before stepping to the microphone…
Back dropped by a crush of bunnies, two of which were holding signs that read “Get at Me” and “Dew Me,” and eyeing a swarm of digital flashes, that would have made the Super Bowl’s opening kickoff jealous, he smiled and strutted and spoke and the bunnies swallowed every word twice… “I didn’t come to Columbus to sleep,” he implied… Trust me, no one was sleeping or dancing or taking their eyes off of the mezzanine while he was present…
The way that I know they weren’t is the crush intensified… The crush was unbelievable… In the upper mezzanine, feet from me, a rope line of five security guards, walled off heartbroken heifers, who holding cameras and pictures, were pleading for access… Alas, access, thanks to the granite wall, was denied…
The phenomenon was nothing I had ever witnessed… Jenner was famous and arguably more relevant given reality television’s success… Kirk Herbstreit is more notable within the city… Yet, he could freely walk without fear at Park Street Patio… Wahlberg was surrounded… As his presence in the venue continued, the swarm exploded… The chain grew to a sixth security guard on one side… Two security guards on the other and on the dance floor, no one was shaking their ass… Every eye was on Wahlberg…
As he took the microphone for a second time to announce that the New Kids on the Block will be returning to Columbus (the Full Service Tour) this summer, the digital flashes outnumbered the amount of people staring toward the stage (and there were at minimum a thousand people)… Wahlberg danced as the music returned… He was clearly consuming the attention….
Something else that was clear that Gonzo kept disappearing… After about an hour of watching him exit and enter the mezzanine, I discovered why… He had been seeking a song, a rare track, that Wahlberg would perform to later… Leave it to Gonzo to score huge on an already huge night… And leave it to the crowd to swell beyond what I ever conceived…
By the time Wahlberg was set to speak for the third of what turned out to be three occasions, there was literally no room to breathe at any point in Sugar Bar… The mezzanine had even engorged beyond capacity… As this occurred, my phone died, at a big event, yet again… I rapidly borrowed Gonzo’s phone to twitter a sign off, unaware of the spectacle which would ensue in heartbeats…
With microphone in hand and the music omnipresent, Walhberg strutted and straddled the line between showman and stuntman, as he performed “Full Service…” The throng was with him word for word… They were pitch perfect… He smiled, he soaked up the attention, and akin to a trapeze artist, he worked the cage bar as if it were a stripper pole… Swinging out, never making contact with the crowd, and returning… It was amazing…
As he exited the stage, encircled again by security, Wahlberg approached the ropes and was herded toward the exit… And the herd, which had crammed the outside mezzanine and the lower mezzanine and the dance floor, followed him… There was a literal stampede of people, who all night had begged for access into where I was standing… They were now chasing Wahlberg into the street… The sheer volume of the delirium of the heifers and the lengths they would go to for one minute with their idol made me wince… It also made me realize once again, why I love this website…
Throughout the night, the outsiders had begged for access, when I had access… They wanted to stand with Gonzo, talk with Gallichio, and be feet from Wahlberg… but I was… See the mistake everyone makes with this life is that it’s about joining the party… It’s not about joining the party… I’m part of the party and I can tell you, I don’t talk about the access or take the access because I want to say to someone, I’ve been here or done this… In the words of Wahlberg , “I do it for love…”
I also do it to say these five words to Gallichio (told you we’d return to his lobbying)… Your thoughts on the column?
Monday, March 16, 2009
St. Patrick’s Day 2009: Park Street Patio
Commencement: 4:00Venue: Park Street Patio (533 Park Street)
Drinks (Available All Night)
Green Beer Pitchers
Patty Bombs
Menu (Available All Night)
½ Price Pizzas
Performances
DJ R-Dog
DJ Samurai
MC Huggs
Thursday, March 5, 2009
INVITE: Fight! Magazine Presents the Classic Kickoff Party
Commencement: 9:00Venue: Park Street Patio & Sugar Bar (525 & 533 Park Street)
VIP Access: 806-8110
Fight Girl Contest ($500 & Magazine Pictorial Prize)
Performances
DJ Majik Mike
DJ N.A.T.E,
DJ Samurai
MC Johnny Benz
Swagg
Co-Sponsors
Bud Light
Cage Potato.com
Jack Daniels
RU Vodka
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
New Year’s Eve 2009: Renaissance Gala
Commencement: 10:00Venue: Renaissance Hotel (50 North Third Street)
Tickets: Dr. Moejoe (Easton, Polaris, Short North)
$178 VIP Upgrade Package
VIP Access
Latitude 41 Party Access
Top Shelf Drinks
Champagne Toast (Midnight)
$129 General Admission Package
Drinks
Complimentary Hors D’orderves
Performances
Love Sick Radio
George Acosta
Dave Espionage
Jimmy Sexton
Shapeshifter
Chris Gonzalez
DJ Magic
DJ Jondi
DJ Samurai
Quantum
Lemon Lyman
The Bourbon Kings
AUS 10
The Late Crew
Co-Sponsors Include:
Columbus Alive
Columbus Underground
Columbus Renaissance Hotel
Dr. Moejoe
Got Cast
Kaplan Artist Group
Latitude 41
Miller Lite
The Riot Society
Vital Music Records
New Year’s Eve 2009: Park Street Patio & Sugar Bar
Commencement: 6:00
Venue: Park Street Patio & Sugar Bar (525 & 533 Park Street)
Cover: $10 (One ticket for both venues)
Sugar Bar
Masquerade Ball (Cash prizes)
DJ Samurai
Champagne Toast (Midnight)
Park Street Patio
Saving Jane
DJ Drew Hanson
Small plate buffet (7-9 p.m.)
Champagne Toast (Midnight)
Venue: Park Street Patio & Sugar Bar (525 & 533 Park Street)
Cover: $10 (One ticket for both venues)
Sugar Bar
Masquerade Ball (Cash prizes)
DJ Samurai
Champagne Toast (Midnight)
Park Street Patio
Saving Jane
DJ Drew Hanson
Small plate buffet (7-9 p.m.)
Champagne Toast (Midnight)
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