Weekend with Shirley, 9/15/05
   by BartCop

Note:
I was not under oath when I wrote this.   Trip reports are meant to entertain.
If the IRS ever asks why you subscribe to bartcop.com , of course, it's for the cool trip reports.
If you ever get a chance to have the biggest, left-leaning, uncencored tequila treehouse on the internets,
take it - because sometimes good things can happen.

Mrs. Bart is psychic
We've been wanting to see Garbage live this tour. The band had been releasing tour dates with the
regularity of a leaf-chewing, Bolivian llama herder with IBS. Unlike U2, who released their late-2005
tour dates in February, Garbage tended to give 30-40 days notice. I was content to catch them when
they came to Dallas, Tulsa (Don't laugh, we saw them here the first time), St Louis or Kansas City.

But Mrs. Bart said, "Do we have any frequent flyer miles available?" We did, so she said,
"We need to go to that Vegas show on September 15th. Call it your birthday present."

Quentin Tarantino flash forward:
The first words Shirley spoke were, "Welcome to the last American show this year."
I realize it's illogical to believe that Mrs. Bart can see into the future sometimes, but after 35 years
of her being right, I know enough to trust her when she says we need to do something a certain way.
Besides, ignoring the evidence wouldn't be very logical, would it?

So we made plans to go to Vegas that day, last Thursday.
(Cue eerie theramin music)

Then we found out that the fella who sent us to Hawaii (we'll call him "Scott," so I don't have to keep
typing that the fella who sent us to Hawaii) told us that his band was playing the same weekend in Vegas.
Then he said he could make me his "assistant" for the weekend, which meant our rooms were free.

So we land in Vegas and there's Enrique the limo driver holding a "Bartcop" sign.
ha ha

We haven't been in a limo since before there was a bartcop.com
I come from a funerals-only kind of limo economic background, so it was a hoot acting like rock stars.
Being a friendly guy, I asked Enrique if he'd ever driven any celebrities around Las Vegas and he said
he had George Foreman in his limo once, and some country singer (who was a man so I didn't care),
and then he said, "Paris Hilton sat right where you are, right in that spot." So I rubbed my butt
into the limo seat a few times, getting a little closer to Paris than I ever thought I might.

So we pull up to one of the three biggest/newest properties on The Strip.
(Identities must be protected, you understand.)
We met Scott, and he checked us in as "VIPs," which meant we had a per diem with the casino.
ha ha

As a good little altar boy, I knew what that Latin phrase stands for.
It stands for "Go crazy with the other guy's money," and I'm all about that, as the kids say.
Plus, this is casino money, so there was no pressure to spend that per diem wisely.

Then Scott was due for a soundcheck, and after breaking the law, we went to watch them set up.
There was an open bar in the same room so I sipped on some Patron anejo (sacrifices had to be made)
Mrs Bart got her favorite - a Corralejo anejo margarita on the rocks - and they were both free because
I slipped a $5 into the little countertop poker game embedded in the corner of the bar.

So we're sitting there, and three Mexican gangstas sat down on the other side of our corner.
I don't know much about Mexican gangstas but they were definetely Mexican gangstas.
They had the offricial uniforms and everything.

So I made a mental note of where to dive in case gunfire broke out, then I went back to my drink.
Suddenly, the closest Mexican gangsta tapped me on the shoulder.

"Koresh!" I'm thinking. "Is this a hit?"

So the Mexican gangsta says to me, "Do you smoke?"
The wheels started turning in my head: How to answer that?
I feigned stupidity and gave him my best George Bush face.
Sensing I need further clues, he leaned in and says, "Do you mind if I smoke?""

I'll de damned - he was asking for permission to smoke - at a bar in Vegas - from Ol' Bart.
He wadn't no Mexican gangsta.
He was a nice young man with more manners than was called for.
Next up - some per diem at the restaurants in the casino. (The per diem was alcohol-free.)

We had a few more drinks - and then it was getting close to showtime for Garbage.
We took a cab to the Hard Rock, and headed for The Pink Taco.
We knew from previous Garbage tours that the band likes to get near the venue and drink
a few beers before taking the stage, so we figured this would be a good place to stalk them.

We got the catbird's seat, right next to where they make the sopapillas, so we could see everyone
as they came and went. I ordered a shot of God's finest Chinaco, Mrs Bart got her Corre-gita.
In came Duke, the Garbage guitar player who's not Steve, and Butch, their drummer/producer.
Shirley calls him, "Bootch," like the sexy cabdriver in Pulp Fiction.

They sat at the bar, which is different than sitting at a table or a booth, right?
A barstool is more approachable, don't you think?

I walked over to Duke and gave him a Bartcop sticker and asked, "Could you give this to Steve?"
Duke looked me up and down and decided I probably wasn't a threat, so he said, "Give this to Steve?"
I said yes and I was outta there - no harm, no foul, unlike the time when we met Robert Plant.

Soon it was showtime, and I never heard from Steve, which is OK because a rich rock star
has better things to do in Vegas than sit around and talk politics with a tequila-fueled Okie.
The show started and the band was in extra-fine form, but shortly after announcing that this was
the last night of their tour, Shirley asked her off-stage minions for "that killer scotch."

Like a rookie roadie for U2, a fella came scrambling forth with a glass that wasn't see-thru. Shirley did a shot
from the glass and said, "Damn, that's good," while somewhat gasping, as straight liquor does to women.
Then she asked for and received another shot and they started the next song.
Yep, it was "Party time - last night of the tour in Vegas" and Shirley was having a good time.

Not sure why, but then she brought a lady onstage to have her head shaved. She was a "hardcore fan"
who'd been traveling gig-to-gig with them. Shirley mentioned something about "good health," but I'm not
aware of any medical situation in whichthe odds got better of you shaved your head, so I remain confused.

While Shirley was shaving her friend, (that sounds so nasty) she told the band, "You boys play something."
The boys seemed unaware that this was coming, so hey played snippets of songs ( I heard some Stairway
from Steve) while Shirley continued to play barber. After that, a few more songs, all of which were perfect.

Whatever the effects of the scotch between songs, when the song started Shirley was all business, showing
a confidence that I'd never seen in her. Her attitude seemed to be that of an old time movie star - maybe Garbo,
but that's just a guess because who knows what Garbo was like? She knew that every move she made was
being swallowed by every man in the house, and most of the women. She was posing like a runway model.

They played over two hours, which is tough to do when your songs are 4 minutes long, but Shirley kept saying,
"I don't want to stop, I want to sing all fuckin nite," so the band kept playing.

Then, (did they run out of songs?) Shirley asked for requests, and the "hardcore fans" were screaming
obscure song titles from the past, and Shirley was adamant about wanting to deliver, so she asked for
"the binder" and that same U2 roadie guy brought her their lyrics binder so Shirley could remember
the words while the band did their best to remember songs that they had played on past tours.

Eventually they played almost every song you could think of except Special.  Hell, they even played
the Tally Briggs theme song from La Perspective Femme, also known as Number One Crush.

Then they said goodnight, which was cool because they have no seats at The Joint, and we'd been
standing for three hours after the hours we spent at The Pink Taco.

The next day we went to see our host's band perform and I can't give out too many clues,
but I gotta say that I think their singer has the best voice in music today.

Oh, and another thing happened.
This Scott fella saw a link on bartcop.com  from a week or two back, so he decided to fix me up
with a bottle of Chinaco 30-year  "Emperada." He ordered a bottle online to be delivered to this
big, fancy new multi-billion dollar property, but they lost it.
They knew it was somewhere, but they couldn't put their fingers on it, so they sent us a "Candy basket"
and a bottle of Patron Anejo as their way of saying, "Sorry we muffed it."

They're going to Fed-Ex this best Chinaco of all times to Casa de Bart on Tuesday.
Imagine - instead of 3-4 years of soaking up the flavors from the baked apples, the papaya, the mangoes*
and the wildflowers - this is thirty years worth of flavor enhancement.

Poor Scott - he spent that much on a birthday gift for Ol' Bart and he never even got a sip.

Note: At Mandalay Bay's Border Grill, they sell shots of this stuff for $90.
I told them that was crazy - nobody pays $90 a shot for tequila - but the bartender said,
"Dude, don't talk to me, my last name isn't Mandalay."
He had a point.

So, that second night we also had a damn good time. We killed that bottle of Patron while telling lies
and watching some old bootleg videos I found during the big move that the band had never seen.

Thanks to Scott, who's on-track to win the title, "Mister 2005."
And Shirley, your performance the last night in Vegas was one we'll never forget.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Note:
After that was written, I did some surfing and found this:

Have Garbage Split?

Excerpt:
Following rumours of a split earlier this year, it now appears that Garbage
may have finally called it a day, with an announcement that all European dates
on their 2005 world tour have been cancelled.

A statement released on Friday (the day after their 'last show') placed the blame
for the cancellation on the band's heavy workload and in particular their touring in 2005.

Did Mrs. Bart know something like this was coming?
Her eerie psychic powers have made the difference so many times.
Of course, if any Garbage band members want to write and confirm or deny, please do.

I hope we didn't see the last of Garbage Thursday at the Hard Rock.

  Comments?