Why the Lead Singer of Keane Needs to Get Out of REHAB Fast
So it seems (as of last week) that Tom Chaplin’s initial plea for rest is really a cry for help. Apparently, the lead singer of Keane has a bit of a 24-7 hankering for the white stuff; job requirement? I think so.
However, I, Cass was not happy to hear this news last week when it was delivered by my own blind, little Paul Revere; a frantic Tiresias emerged from the tunnels, gasping “Cass you’re gonna be pissed.” It is as our dear Tiresias says. I am pissed, and thus I offer my own reasons for why Chaplin needs to pull it together ASAP:
• We have a Baltimore bound ZIP-CAR reserved, locked & loaded, ready to go for September 23rd.
• We each spent $112 something, which of course includes all those obnoxious fees, on tickets for the first U.S. Virgin Festival. That’s the equivalent of about 24-hours of panhandling.
• I have received no less than 3 emails and a phone call from an actual person telling me to disregard the other 3 emails and PDF attachments which were to be our tickets. “They will not be accepted at the gate,” said the real, live, English-speaking voice to me on Saturday at 7PM. By the time I sort through my Inbox and figure out which PDF file to print, I’ll be joining Tom in Rehab.
• He’s going to fall off the wagon again anyway, so why bother putting the time in now, only to go down in a blaze of crystal meth and groupies 3 months from now?
• Yes, there are some other amazing performers lined up: The Killers, Flaming Lips, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Gnarls Barkley, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Scissor Sisters, The New Pornographers. But I wanted to see Keane and hear them play “The Frog Prince” Live. Yes, I know the WHO is going to be there. And I also know that collectively, they’re about as old as our nation’s Constitution. And they might perform more enthusiastically if The New Pornographers were actually named The Child Pornographers.
• Do you know what Pimlico Race Track’s In Field is like? One word for you: Preakness. And it’s not the large-brimmed, Black-Eyed Susan swilling, Semi-Southern, white-gloved, genteel scene you might expect. It’s kegs and stupid sorority sisters blind drunk flashing even dumber fraternity brothers to the sweet, poetic serenade of “show us your rack.” It’s mud and port-a-potties and the “hood.” It’s the most annoying fraternity party ever…the one where someone tied your arms behind your back and told you to spend the eve stone-cold sober and thus, rendered you incapable of numbing the pain. It’s the In Field at Preakness: which I was too old for at 21.
However, I, Cass was not happy to hear this news last week when it was delivered by my own blind, little Paul Revere; a frantic Tiresias emerged from the tunnels, gasping “Cass you’re gonna be pissed.” It is as our dear Tiresias says. I am pissed, and thus I offer my own reasons for why Chaplin needs to pull it together ASAP:
• We have a Baltimore bound ZIP-CAR reserved, locked & loaded, ready to go for September 23rd.
• We each spent $112 something, which of course includes all those obnoxious fees, on tickets for the first U.S. Virgin Festival. That’s the equivalent of about 24-hours of panhandling.
• I have received no less than 3 emails and a phone call from an actual person telling me to disregard the other 3 emails and PDF attachments which were to be our tickets. “They will not be accepted at the gate,” said the real, live, English-speaking voice to me on Saturday at 7PM. By the time I sort through my Inbox and figure out which PDF file to print, I’ll be joining Tom in Rehab.
• He’s going to fall off the wagon again anyway, so why bother putting the time in now, only to go down in a blaze of crystal meth and groupies 3 months from now?
• Yes, there are some other amazing performers lined up: The Killers, Flaming Lips, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Gnarls Barkley, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Scissor Sisters, The New Pornographers. But I wanted to see Keane and hear them play “The Frog Prince” Live. Yes, I know the WHO is going to be there. And I also know that collectively, they’re about as old as our nation’s Constitution. And they might perform more enthusiastically if The New Pornographers were actually named The Child Pornographers.
• Do you know what Pimlico Race Track’s In Field is like? One word for you: Preakness. And it’s not the large-brimmed, Black-Eyed Susan swilling, Semi-Southern, white-gloved, genteel scene you might expect. It’s kegs and stupid sorority sisters blind drunk flashing even dumber fraternity brothers to the sweet, poetic serenade of “show us your rack.” It’s mud and port-a-potties and the “hood.” It’s the most annoying fraternity party ever…the one where someone tied your arms behind your back and told you to spend the eve stone-cold sober and thus, rendered you incapable of numbing the pain. It’s the In Field at Preakness: which I was too old for at 21.
posted by hobos in space @ 8:44 AM
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