Speeding Tickets, Farm Animals, and Amorous Gas Station Attendents, Another Trip to Detroit Ends Strongly in Our Favor. School’s In, Bitch.

Speeding Tickets, Farm Animals, and Amorous Gas Station Attendents, Another Trip to Detroit Ends Strongly in Our Favor. School’s In, Bitch.

OK, so me, KP, and my darling wonderful Chuck hit the road the other day for the Michigan state fair in beautiful (and by beautiful, I mean disgusting) Detroit Michigan. We wanted to check out the animals, you know, pet a baby duck, laugh at the dog show (the cool obstacle course one, not that lame one where the dog just stands there and gets felt up by some crew-cut judge), maybe watch one of Detroit’s Finest face off with an actual pig (intensity! Drama! He almost lost!), witness a cow being born (ps- DO NOT YOUTUBE THIS. NO MATTER WHAT YOU’VE SEEN IN THE PAST, YOU ARE NOT READY), and oh yes, Alice, the original Motor City nutcase (sorry Ted), the king of the night, sleazebag, lacy, makeup-wearing sex god Alice Cooper. Man, was she good.

This was me and KP’s third time seeing this guy. He is my rock-n-roll father, and a respected hero, maybe even in my top 5 coolest rock stars of all possible time. And I’m not only saying this because he’s like sixty and still stabbing babies on stage and swinging his sword around and doing all the same stuff he’s been doing since (for real) the 60’s, I’m saying that because not only has he been terrifying audiences for so long and took the idea of parents-hate-it-so-teens-adore-it rock to the next level and the next level and the level after that, but the guy has been doing this TOTALLY SANE. He’s really smart. He has class. He’s a Christian Republican golfer (besides the golf thing, I personally am of neither persuasion, FYI) for chrissakes and he still hasn’t sold out. Half of his autobiography is him talking about why he found the church, all the cool Motley Crue rockstar shit he never did, and openly hawking Callaway golf equipment with not even a whiff of shame. By all rock standards he should totally suck. He is so bad-ass that he does not suck. He will never suck, it’s impossible.

Thankfully, he had the whole stage show this time. He had the crutch (my personal favorite), the whip, and the silver fencing sword (it once belonged to Errol Flynn, you know). He had the white top hat and tails, and the black leather/red silk combo. He had the corpse that he spoke to, whipped around, and threw off stage, and he had his vampire/dominatrix daughter dancing, whom he beat and strangled during a weird medley of songs including STEEEEEPHENNNN!!!! Straight jacket. Gallows. He totally hung himself. Backed by the setting sun and the tripped-out calliope lights of the midway, Alice Cooper played dutifully and expertly, the ferryman who ushered us across the river Speedwagon, and into his rock n’ roll nightmare.

He knows what he’s doing. The man’s been putting on variations of this show (and audiences have been eagerly lapping it out of his wrinkly hands) since the 70’s. The guy is good, no doubt about it. But I need to give a special shout out right now to Alice’s band. THE BAND WAS GREAT. The drummer (a fella by the name of Eric Singer who has played for KISS, and Black Sabbath) his one-million piece drum kit (for the second time this summer, homes) made Tommy Lee yet again his bitch with an ultra metal mega-cool drum solo at half-time while Alice received oxygen and defibrillation backstage. It was crazy. Watching the two guitar players switch almost by bar between lead and rhythm, all with a maximum of flair and 80’s-style righteousness had me wiping tears off my moistened cheeks and also my…never mind. They were brutal. They were beautiful. These guys are Keri Kelli (see here )and Jason Hook ( call me, baby!) and they are bronzed, immortal guitar gods, glowing radioactive next to one of rock n’ roll’s most prized possessions. You owe it to yourself as a fan, guitar snob, or groupie to check Alice out, if not only for the baby-stabbing-daughter-beating-Julius Squeezer antics of rock’s original dementor, but also for the head-banging rock contingent that makes up his band. That’s a real guitar hero.

How in the hell does a self-proclaimed conservative Christian in Scottsdale Country Club still get away with baby stabbing? How does he get away with having Barack Obama and John McCain making out on stage, while he prances around in leather pants screaming “I’m your man! I don’t care!!”? How does he hawk 3-rings for Staples, Big Berthas for Calloway, AA, the lord, and never have cheated on his wife of 30 years, all while simultaneously getting us to pound our fists and scream the words to “School’s Out” when school actually starts in three days?!? I don’t know! Neither will you, I’m afraid. We will never know how Alice Cooper still retains all his street cred while turning into the exact same guy he fought all those years. You and me? We will never be that cool. We will sell out and go soft and get cheesy and all that other stuff that should have attached itself to Alice long ago but didn’t. He isn’t an immortal like Sir Paul McCartney and he isn’t a rock zombie like Mick and Keith. He is a man, a dad, a golfer, a radio host (who’s show totally kicks ass and I email him all the time but he won’t adopt me. Jerk.) floating safely down a man-made river of dirt rock that he helped to build. I’ll bet he’s in some kind of pirate ship with black sails a la Pirates of the Caribbean, or even better, a battered Chinese junk boat with tattered sales and a lone lantern at the helm, shining sinisterly onto his made-up nightmare face. That would be sweet. Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Bottom line: he’s awesome, KP is awesome, and Chuck is awesome, so the show (and the fair) totally kicked ass. You have to go to a fair and mingle with the yokles if you get a chance. That is an official TshirtSizeAwesome recommendation, from me to you. I think we might have missed the Hudsonville fair (bummer), but there’s still the Allegan County Fair and the Ionia Free Fair (I think…) coming up soon so get your tickets to the demolition derby, always bet on #69, and look for me, KP, and Chuck wearing battered cutoffs and screaming through our walking tacos to SPILL SOME FUCKING BLOOD! Farm animals are hilarious. Always a good time to be had.

NOTE to the horrible people parked in front of us with the cigarettes who brought a ONE MONTH OLD BABY to Alice Cooper: What the hell, man? Your white trash kitsch was evident enough without ashing your stogie into your newborn’s face. This is a rock concert, assholes, leave your teeny, innocent, mentally and physically formative baby AT HOME. The one Alice Cooper tortures is fake (I’m pretty sure), which does not give you the right to torture an actual one. You guys suck. And if I see you in prison someday for child abuse and domestic violence, I’ll totally shank you, for your baby’s sake.