------------------------- COMING SOON TO YOU THE METRO ANE PODCAST A while back we were kicking ideas around for the Metro website and I suggested doing a podcast. I was pretty well shot down. Then about three weeks ago, Russell, the very same guy who wasn’t too hip to the idea in the first place says, “I bet if we did a podcast we could do some neat things.” I politely reminded him of our previous conversations on this matter and was extra proud of myself for not using the word “mutherf*#er” in the process. So now I’m somehow going to be working on bringing this little endeavor to fruition. I imagine we’d like to use the woman’s skirt rule for our podcasts. Long enough to cover the subject but short enough to keep interest. 20 minutes should do the trick with out making everyone’s eyes glaze over with our shenanigans. We’ll be able to showcase a band or two have an interview here and there with porn stars or featured strippers and talk about pop culture as it applies to our twisted worldview. But we’re going to want to hear from you dear readers. Columnists such as Two Dogs’ sports coverage while O.J. and the Rockslut’s stories never fail to entertain but we want to know what you want to get from the show. Because it’s you we’re doing it for so we need your e-mail’s and input. In the beginning of May we’ll be geeking out at the Texas Frightmare weekend. Linda Blair, Alice Cooper, Michael Rooker (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer), Tyler Mane (Halloween) Derek Mears (Friday the 13th) Karen Black (House of 1000 Corpses and a zillion other movies) and Fairuza Balk (Masters of Horror) will be there just to name a few. So if you have any questions or anyone you’d like me to hit up once again, drop me a note a the email listed below. We’ll also want to put comments and interviews from you on the podcast as well because I’ve received some funny damn e-mails over the years. So don’t be surprised if I put my little recorder in your face for some comments. Other than that, you can look forward to a piece on the taxpayer hotel which where I found myself (courtesy of Rational Radio 1360 am) in the same room with Mayor Tom Leppert and Anne Raymond as they debated the half million dollar deal that could either be a nightmare or greatness for the city of Dallas. We also went to the San Antonio Exotic Easter fetish ball in which some interesting stuff happened that wee will be telling you about in the weeks to come. Some fun stuff is about to happen with some hopefully, input from you good folks and we can’t wait to see what happens. Hit me up at oldmanmike@anemagazine.com Or www.myspace.com/old_man_mike
Old Man Mike Wrestles A Bear Once
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In a weird flip of the roles I found myself as my daughter’s plus one for the South By So What show down at the Plano center a few weeks ago. She likes the really heavy stuff just like her dad and is the director of metal programming at KAMP in Arizona.
The South By So What show boasted 40+ bands ranging from the mildly popular (Devil Wears Prada) to the absolute sucky (Disco Curtis). I’ve been loving the random tracks I was catching of Iwrestledabearonce on Sirius and when I heard they were to play I figured if I saw only them I was coming out a winner. The daughter had them slated as her only interview so getting to meet them would be a filed in the bonus column. There was some juggling of schedules that brought the daughter to the show earlier than I was to arrive. So when I got there I had no idea where she was. The show had started, the line was out the door and I was stuck with out a ticket. I grabbed my camera case and some old memo papers and headed for the back stage/load in area. It was total chaos as expected so using it to my advantage, I waved the papers at security and stated with all the authority I could muster, “Where’s Harold Robbins [the first name I could think of: -a popular novelist on the 70s that my mother used to read] because I have to get these AR-30 forms [completely made up] and this equipment to her pronto!” I pointed to my camera case like it contained the Hope Diamond, The Shroud of Turin and the Colonel’s ORIGINAL recipe safely tucked inside. The guard looked some how convinced. He called over another guard who took his post and said he’d help me find her. I was in but I had security with me so I either had to ditch him or do some fast thinking. 
We made a good show of looking here and there for our phantom hook up as I got the lay of the land. When I felt confident enough, I told security that we should split up or that he should simply go back to his post. He agreed and I was in the clear. I texted the daughter letting her know that I was in and she texted me back, “Way to go Daddy-o! I knew you could do it.” They were in one of the rooms off to the north. I spilled into the spare dining hall where Daughter and Iwrestledabearonce were sitting around dejectedly staring at a dead tape recorder. The band was exhausted from travel the daughter was annoyed at the faulty equipment and her lost interview and I came charging in like a buffalo with a weak bladder. I plop down; we swap howdys and begin talking about everything but the band and their music. I whip out a copy of the METRO and forewarn Krysta their diminutive vocalist with a colossal voice of the METRO’s potentially offending contents. She informs me that she’s a feminist. I say, “Oh shit.” And she explains how the strippers really hold the power and I feel a little better and a lot stupider. Their drummer finds the tranny ads immediately and we swap all tranny stories we’ve heard that all have the same ending. At one point we even found ourselves with our driver’s licenses on the table in a contest for the most ridiculous DMV photo. Krysta won. At one point someone realizes that this is going nowhere and we all head out to check out the other bands. We watch one or two and then Iwrestledabearonce says it’s time for them to prepare for their set so we part ways for a bit. Daughter and I hit the tables in a vain effort to score some swag. She gets some because she’s young and cute and I get none because I’m old and creepy. Before we can say, “Dan Haggerty”, It’s time for Iwrestledabearonce’s rock show extravaganza. The floor is packed from barrier to the far end of the hall with sweaty teens and their creepy dads. The lights go on and Iwrestledabearonce explodes on the stage. Krysta, cute as a button wearing a tattered furby costume is roaring into the microphone and caterwauling an endless barrage of sonic violence that was both intimidating and hypnotic. She looked like Bjork on a three-day pixie stick bender. And just when you think Krysta is all growls and screams they make another left turn doing something haunting and beautiful.
The music itself is a vortex of mad chugga chugga metal riffs and left turns into every other thing that doesn’t quite fit but does like, jazz, pop, calliope and probably polka. They tore me a new one and I loved it. This is what new bands are supposed to do push envelopes, buttons and the annoying jerk in the front row straight out of sight. Iwrestledabearonce album on Century Media is to be released in a few months. Ep Available through www.myspace.com/iwrestledabearonce Words/Photos: Mike Wilshin (www.mysapce.com/old_man_mike) Illustration: Grant Sutherland |