As you can imagine, I’m very proud to make this major announcement that I stole from Chris Strub’s blog on pressconnects.com which he stole from Melissa Bykofsky’s article on bupipedream.com:

Third Eye Blind is coming to Binghamton.

You remember Third Eye Blind, doncha?  Their bubble-gum-punk-pop-sounding singles got oodles of radio play because it took three or four listens before anyone realized that the songs were actually about suicide, blow jobs, and crystal meth.

Yes, Third Eye Blind is back with a whole new album: “Ursa Major”.  You can listen to their latest single, “Don’t Believe a Word” below.  Just make sure nobody with epilepsy is in the room while you watch the video.  And when you figure out why one of the band members changes outfits on-screen at 1:38, drop me a note and fill me in.  Thanks.

PS: You should actually all go support Third Eye Blind because they graciously agreed to do the ribbon-cutting at the 2007 Southern Tier AIDS Walk in Rec Park.  And A LOT of bands wouldn’t have done that.

Two "interesting" facts about Third Eye Blind:

• During concerts in the mid 90s, they would drop candy from large piñatas above their mosh pits.
• Lead singer Stephan Jenkins decided to swap out the candy for live crickets when they played a showcase for record execs.  (Not sure what makes this a good idea, but hey, they got signed.)

Tickets for the October 11th show go on sale to us townies on September 15th (for 29 bucks).  Students can now buy tickets online too because—and this is the actual stated reason—they won’t have to cut classes this time around to make sure they see the show.

Third Eye Blind last played Binghamton in April of ’07.  You can check out a review of their Magic City Music Hall performance from the Pipe Dream.  I especially like how it highlights the “intense muggy heat” you could feel in the venue that night, as if the air conditioner actually worked most other nights…

*Sigh* I actually really miss that place.

Yeah, OK, Melissa Etheridge is a gay icon.  And an environmental awareness icon.  And a breast cancer survivor icon.  And a rock chick icon.  And a songwriting icon.

Jesus Christ, Melissa, leave room for somebody else to have a cause, would ya?

But more than all of these things, she’s a brilliant live performer.  I had never known that till last night, and I suspect I’m not the only one who discovered it at the Anderson Center in Binghamton.  Well, OK, Vestal; but she said Binghamton.  “Are you ready to rock, Vestal?!?” doesn’t have the same ring…

See, what’s unique about going to a concert in the Bing is this: we get so damn few of them; we’re a lot more willing to go see a show from an artist that we maybe kinda liked just a little bit in college because their single was stuck in our broken CD player.  So Bing concerts are filled with the unconverted—not the hooting, hollering, crying, shrieking, (maybe even) tripping concert-goers you’d find in the “big city”.

It took me a while to realize this; beforehand, I just thought that we were all f*cking lame.  And I’m not convinced that some touring performers don’t feel that way when they show up here.

BTW, I heard one set of concert-goers last night scream at another set of concert-goers to sit down because they weren’t as excited about the show and they didn’t think that anybody else should be either.

On another BTW, I pretty much suck at listening to new music; what do you want from me?  I work in radio.  And if a lyric hasn’t been drilled into my head every four and a half hours before being used as the underscore for a Toyota commercial and the theme song for an Amy Adams romantic comedy, I have a difficult time sitting through its live performance.

But that’s what separates a really really really great live performer from, well, Britney Spears.  Because while we all want to have sex with Britney (even the gays; it’s OK, you can admit it), we pretty much just tolerate her singing on the off chance that she may lose her sh*t on stage and rip her clothes off for no particular reason.

This is not true for Melissa Etheridge.  (OK, maybe it’s true for some of the lesbians reading.)  I, for one, am not sure quite why I liked her live show so much last night.  More than 70% of the show was tunes I didn’t know.  But it didn’t matter.  It might have been her voice—which was in perfect form and didn’t sound any different from what you’d hear in a studio recording.  It might have been her laid-back vibe: you felt like she could have been playing a bar as small as Frankie’s or a space as big as the Broome Arena, she’d be having a ball either way.  I actually think, more than anything else, it was her chemistry with the audience.

She’s an engaging storyteller, and every lyric seemed vitally important when delivered live.  Message songs like “I Run for Life” (her breast cancer anthem) and “I Need to Wake Up” (her Oscar-winning environmental anthem) which before seemed to me like “charity jingles” when they first came out, suddenly just worked.  It’s impossible to deny that’s she’s genuine when you see her in the flesh.

I can’t tell you for sure if I’ll buy Melissa’s next album—I’ve never been blown away by her CDs; but I can tell you I won’t miss her next concert.  Unless Britney Spears is in town.  And having a breakdown.  Half-naked.

Now that’s entertainment.

PS: We interviewed Melissa on the Star Morning Show.  She was just as cool to speak to by phone as she was live in concert.

CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE INTERVIEW

I was kind of a loser in the early 90’s.

So it speaks to exactly how successful Shawn Wayans was that even I knew his name.

I didn’t watch “In Living Color”, I hadn’t seen “I’m Gonna Get You Sucka”, and I’m sorry to say that I missed out on “The Wayans Bros” sitcom—a TV show that aired on the WB network before it decided to retool its lineup to cater to bookish 14-year-olds fixated on vampire-slaying and teenaged superheroes.

So the first time I REALLY knew who Shawn Wayans was when I was forced to watch Scary Movie 20 or 30 times in a row by my new roommates in San Francisco (who had JUST arrived in “the big city” from Kansas—yes, Kansas).  It might have been the slapstick comedy; it might have been Shawn’s striking good looks; or it might have been the drugs that they suddenly realized they could buy on the corner of Fillmore and Eddy.  But whatever it was, they just couldn’t get enough of that movie.

Probably it was the drugs.

Anyway, the first 8 or 9 times I actually found it pretty funny—and I was sober.

So when Lori and I got the chance to interview Shawn about Dance Flick, the new film he co-wrote with his brothers, we jumped at it.

INTERVIEW W SHAWN WAYANS

PS I hope that my former roommates are sitting somewhere in a drug-induced haze reading this with jealousy.  (Preferably in Kansas.) Thanks for depriving me of all that sleep.

Poor Scott Adsit;  it must really suck to endure interview after interview based on the question: “So what’s it REALLY like to work with comic geniuses Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin?”

Of course, Scott’s a talented comic actor in his own right—he’s done improv for years and starred in Moral Orel.  But sometimes, when you start talking to somebody only somewhat famous who happens to know somebody who’s super-famous, you get distracted by that whole “I’m 2 degrees from God” syndrome.

Scott plays Pete Hornberger on the smash-hit sitcom “30 Rock”.  Listen in, as we ask probing and insightful questions such as: “So was it intimidating to work with Alec Baldwin?”  “When exactly did you MEET Tina Fey?”  “Can you give me either of their private cell phone numbers?”

We didn’t ask the last one.  But I won’t pretend like we hadn’t considered it.

Actually, Scott’s character is playing a bigger role than ever in 30 Rock this year; so it was nice to talk to him before he stopped taking our calls.  Which should start happening right after he reads this.

LISTEN TO THE INTERVIEW

There is, it seems, no greater power in the universe, than that of the desire to have a cocktail named after oneself.

At least, that was my takeaway from Sunday night’s Rock Star Celebrity Bartending Bash @ Tranquil Bar/Bistro.  The night was so phenomenally entertaining that I think it was worthy of a recap.  In the interest of full disclosure, I will disclose that not all will be disclosed; this is to protect the self-respect and professional reputation of all involved.  Suffice to say, it was a wild night—and what happens at the STAP’s Rock Star Celebrity Bartending Bash, apparently, STAYS at STAP’s Rock Star Celebrity Bartending Bash.  Except this little bit…

The evening started with Round 1: Candice Chapman (WBNG) v. Greg Catlin (WBNG) v. John Brunelli (The Brunelli Gallery).  Competition was fierce; and the Brunelli crew ponied up big tips, seriously wanting a Tranquil drink to be named after the gallery manager/artist/DJ.  But the BNG crew had fans of their own; owners of the UPS Store (Vestal) store showed up in force, and as the tips for Brunelli grew, the ante was upped in a pretty staggering way: The UPS Store announced that they’d match all bartender donations up to a thousand bucks.  The crowd cheered wildly; more wildly, I imagine, because the bartenders seemed incapable of using a reasonable amount of booze in the drinks.  More people arrived, and the celebs had a tough time keeping up; I chuckled to myself as I watched one of the real bartenders train Greg Catlin to sanitize dishes; this was not a cushy charity gig.

Round 1 ended at 6 sharp and the drag performances began as the tips were counted.  The results came back with Greg in the lead, Brunelli in second, and Candace in third—but not for long.  Round 2 began quickly began, with (the ever so talented) Joshua B—oh wait, that’s me, Lori (Star 105.7), and Mayor Matt Ryan.  Brunelli stayed on to help out.  Sure, it made him SEEM like a nice guy, but I had my suspicions about his motivation (*cough* extra tips).  And even as Round 2 began, jockeying for a “revision” of Round 1 results also began; people started slipping me more money and insisting that John Brunelli’s total be raised.

Meantime, the situation behind the bar became chaotic.  Mayor Ryan, who had casually mentioned to me at some point that he had professional bartending experience, began to ask Lori (Star 105.7) how to make the cocktails.  A genuine dearth of knowledge or a clever ruse to slow Lori down?   Which is not to say that Lori was on the straight and narrow—cutting in front of me at the register to get her change faster.  My own conduct, as you might expect, was near angelic.  If you consider assuming that any unclaimed tip left on the bar was MEANT for my tip cup “angelic”.  As the competition mounted, the celeb bartenders ran out of glasses and the Tranquil crew (Chris, Sam, John) desperately began washing more.  Michael Libous (salon owner) from Round 3 joined the fray early to make sure that everybody got served.

Round 2 flashed by, with the bar packed to capacity, and then, suddenly as it began, it was over.  “In at first place, Mayor Matt Ryan”; the crowd cheered.  2nd and 3rd were Joshua B and Lori, respectively.  Even more to the point, Mayor Ryan was leading John Brunelli; and the Brunelli crew was having none if it.  The wallets came out and the totals fluctuated again.  For a moment, I was in the lead; then Brunelli; then the mayor again.

But that was before we even GOT to Round 3: Michael Libous v. Sofia Ojeda (NewsChannel 34) v. Tony Fiala v. Matt Unhjem (Q Magazine).  Competition was fierce, and Libous already had a head start; but so did Tony—the consummate fundraiser—who showed up with a number of small donations he’d been given in advance.

Then came the major coup: Kristen, a friend of STAP Development Director Mary Kaminsky made an offer: if Mary would mix a single Cosmo, Kristen would write a check for a thousand dollars.  All action froze as Mary made her thousand-dollar cosmo… with a little help.  “Better be a damn good cosmo,” somebody commented.  Apparently, it was.  A thousand dollars was added to the board in Mary’s name.

That’s when it all got a little wacky; one celeb offered to dance on the bar in order to make up the difference; no takers.  All this, while the Round 3 tenders worked furiously to exceed Mary’s record-breaking total.  As the hour wrapped up with a performance from Katrina, Trina, and Nomi, the results were tallied.  And they were?  Michael Libous in first, Tony in second, Sofia in third, and Matt Unhjem in fourth.  But none even came close to Mary’s number.

After a song or two more, it was time to announce the final results.  Mary (obviously) was well in the lead at $1000.  Mayor Ryan was in second and John Brunelli was third.  It seemed absolutely certain that there was no beating Mary to the much-lauded drink-naming rights.  But that’s when the powers that be decided that TWO drinks would be named in honor of the celebs at Tranquil—a major sacrifice, considering the meager amount of space left on their semi-permanent chalkboard.

With new incentive, jockeying began again.  I won’t get into the dirty details here—I’ll just say that you should have been there if you wanted to know exactly how far people are willing to go in pursuit of a good cause (and a cocktail title).  But the end result was that the Brunelli’s crew came up with 200 more, catapulting him into second and earning him a place on the Tranquil chalkboard.

The grand total raised (including tip-matching from UPS Vestal):
4,776.03

If this appeals to you, please e-mail me right away.  Because I’d like to stop being friends with you.

There’s a web site out there called “Celeb4aDay.com”.  I don’t know what it says about a company that its clientele are too stupid or lazy to type the word “for” in its entirety.  This web site offers you the chance to (duh) “be” a celebrity for a day.  And by that, they actually mean “get stalked by the paparazzi”.  As if THAT is the appealing part of being a celebrity.  Not owning a Beverly Hills estate with a swimming pool the size of a Finger Lake, no.  Not walking into a club on Saturday night and pretty much expecting that you can gesture vaguely in somebody’s direction and they’ll want to have sex with you.  That’s not it either.  (Although it occurs to me that there’s already an industry built around getting much hotter people to have sex with you; and it probably costs less than Celeb4aDay.com)

No, Celeb4aDay only provides the paparazzi.  For a mere 729.99—isn’t there a point at which the “1 cent less than the dollar” psychological trick stops working—you can have 4 cameramen follow you around and pretend to care about you for a full 30 minutes.  (PS, my therapist will pretend to care about you for a full 30 minutes at a significantly reduced rate.  And I get a free session if you use my name.)

If you’re willing to shell out the big(ger) bucks—989.99—they’ll actually give you the photos too.  Imagine that.  And they’ll stalk you for 60 minutes.  Here’s the best part:  You get to fill out a questionnaire revealing all your dirtiest secrets so that they can shout invasive questions as they snap away:  “Gary, is it true that you can’t satisfy your wife?!”  “How many illegitimate children to you REALLY have?” “Is it true what they say about you and Clay Aiken?”

Yes, it’s true.  The idea of Clary Aiken having sex with just about anybody is inherently funny.

And as if that’s all not stupid enough, for 2999.99 (thank God; I wasn’t going to buy if it came to 3000), they’ll provide you with a publicist to say “no comment” for you and a bodyguard to protect you from… um, the people who want to kill you because you spent three-thousand dollars on paparazzi.

That’s all fine and well; but I propose an additional package: For 5000 bucks, you should get to spend a night in jail, a week in rehab, get sued for running over the paparazzo’s foot, and experience a simulated overdose.

Now that’s what I call a good time.

PS: They won’t do this in Binghamton; although they’re "expanding to a city near you" soon.  I think by city near us they mean New York.  Good riddance.