Rib Fest is a street festival thing that happens here every August. It's only four dollars to get in and then you have to pay triple the market for a beer or a plate of ribs. Pretty typical small-city R&R, and also heavily invested in and promoted by our big-ag overlords. But hey, that's not always a bad thing, and the ribs truly are delicious. Several quality outfits come up from as far away as Australia f and you're free to gorge yourself until you shit red meat like a tiger if you want to.
When I went there late Friday night I was rather drunk* and the "Salute To The Eagles" pictured above were on stage. They were awful, mixing in the standard Eagles pap like "Desperado" with some Henley and Joe Walsh solo stuff. (Though Walsh, it must be said, is very much the diamond in that rough, "Rocky Mountain Way is decent and the solo at the end of "Hotel Cali" which these guys naturally closed with, is genuinly good.) But more to the point I found these guys to be deeply alien and frightening in my haze. They were to a man paler than dead Swedes and decked out in those tacky black longcoats. They were also decked out in face mics instead of stand up ones, which created a ghost effect of not being able to tell who was singing and who was just giving a stage smile. Devil men with bad taste is the operating theme here, and that's really all there is to say about that. Anyway how were Garbage?
(Security seemed to be made up mainly of attractive older women concerned only with making sure that no one sneaked under the gate without paying. I may have asked one of them for her number or maybe not. I don't recall.)
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