The side job — “The Dirty Gig” — that keeps me traveling the country sometimes also landlocks me right here in Fort Worth, such as now.  So, the other day I started looking around for a weekend adventure … a short roadtrip … and some Wi-Fi exploration close to home.

Otherwise, I might never have visited Denison.

Even on a motorcycle, it is an easy trip, just 70 miles north of Dallas.  The ride was a quick little getaway with vacation flare. There is a nostaligic downtown with lots of old storefronts, great residential architecture in the neighborhoods, a railroad museum … and oh yes, the 12th largest lake of its kind in The United States,Lake Texoma, is just a stone’s skip away.

Why didn’t I know more about this sooner?

Perhaps it is because Fort Worth has PK (Possum Kingdom Lake) and Dallas has Ray Hubbard and Lake Lewisville (Lake of Death, I call it)  so I have never heard of any of my Metroplex friends going to Lake Texoma. It is an Army Corps of Engineers creation, a five-year project completed in 1944, with an impressive dam across the Red River (which of course divides the T-X from the O-K).

But man, what a lake. I rode all around it on the Triumph and the locals tell me I picked a good year. Previously there has been brown, drought-themed scenery the last few years, but a little rain this year painted everything green.

‘On a steel horse I ride.’

There are more marinas than you can shake a stick at, and lots of campsites … several empty ones on the day I pulled over to sit in the shade, overlooking a cove, and blogged with my iPad and 3G wireless technology. Nope … sorry no Wi-Fi in this campground, the Preston Bend Recreation Area.

I noticed a plethora of sailboats (I’m saving “armada” for later in the blog …) docked at Grandpappy Point, I think they call it, and wondered why more sails weren’t out on water for such a beautiful, partly cloudy weekend.

(Special note to the tour bikers, there are a few places where paved road abruptly turns to loose gravel … watch yo self.)

In Denison, I stayed at a modest, but new and clean Comfort Suites on I-75. (I have points, and I ain’t ashamed to use them.)  The Suites has a clean pool, free and easy Wi-Fi and it’s perched up on a hill overlooking the highway. On a clear day, you can see all the way into Oklahoma where the wind blows free …

Nightlife? Ha … you be the judge. On one end of Main Street there was an armada of pick-em-up trucks circled around for an outdoor country music festival. The artists were all bands I had not hear of, but … hah, with my knowledge of today’s country, they could have been huge.

I opted for air conditioning on the other end of Main Street and a little more nostaligic approach to country music (and some vintage rock) at The Red River Opry, on stage live in the great old Rialto Theater.

When the band took a break after Johnny Rodriguez’s “Pass Me By,” I went exploring on the two floors of the old theater. The view of the stage from the balcony is awesome, almost like you are right on top of the performers. On the second floor landing there are some old antique film projectors, and an old Hollywood studio light, some refurbished theater seats, and an assortment of vitage popcorn buckets and old wax-and-paper Dr. Pepper cups, that are wrinkled and worn as if they have only recently been swept off the floor of a featured film engagement. The theater was built in 1920.

The Rialto

Does it have Wi-Fi? Yes, however, the hotspot is locked down and for management use only. Bummer.

No worries, I was already won over by the theater’s charm, if not its camp – 6 pings.

As the band played on, throughout their first set, they brought out various newcomers to showbiz, in all shapes and sizes, from 9-year-old boys, to almost elderly women who fronted the band for one number per capita. My favorite was definitely a redhaired yound lady, jeans tucked in her boots, hiding behind a guitar she strummed in the truest sense of the word …  who belted out one of my favorite songs ever – “Some Day Soon.”

“He loves that damned old rodeo …”  Ha … I wept, openly … I digress.

The band was pretty impressive, assembled from local Denisonians (if the townspeople are not in fact called Denisonians, they should be, it sounds cool). Special note: One of their regular musical guests is now in the finals on America’s Got Talent … but I missed out on a treat there, I am sure. Most of the performers had talent. Some got mercy applause.

Also most noteworthy, President Dwight D. Eisenhower – #34 – was born a Denisonian, although he later converted to Republicanism.  Their is a huge bust of the five-star general south of town on I-75 … I mean huge, a reminder of when president’s had huge heads and huge … well, let’s just say it was before today’s emasculated ilk.  I digress …

President Dwight D. Eisenhower

Enjoyed some nice art work too, corporate art.  Can’t remember the last time I pulled over to take a photo at a bank, but the abstract horse sculptures at Landmark Bank sucked me in.

And perhaps my favorite stop in Denison was my first. I was cruising on the bike down Main Street when I saw this obvious character of a woman selling hotdogs on the corner. I was hungry and there is just something about a woman wearing big bright round clown-like sunglasses. I pulled over and enjoyed a dog and conversation.

Hmmmm … I said character. Here are my notes … from Oklahoma, loves Stephen King, majored in mortuary science (that figures), works in real estate when not selling hot dogs and is a huge Flaming Lips Fan. Interesting.

Know what I sayin?

Man, my muse must be occupying Wall Street with the other lazy arses. No blogging whatsoever since I have been off the road. And then, lo and behold, a story of interest, brewing right under my nose.

Yesterday my friend on Facebook broke the story that Starbuck’s is allowing no more smoking on their ash pad … I mean patio. What did they say, “25 feet or further”?

First question: Who is going to sit out there in a hazmat suit at Starbutts — among the coughing dead — and monitor the poison, its proximity to the fresh aroma of coffee and enforce the rule? I digress …

It makes so much sense though. I mean, who wants a person with a persistent cough mixing their drinks. After all, is it not the baristas who will be most directly affected by the new rule? (Now, will someone kindly explain to me why Starbucks requires that the baristas clean up the nasty things displayed in their bathrooms daily … If there were ever a case for outsourcing …)

Less caffeine … stay on point …

After my friend — who happens to be a barista, broke the story – I saw the Web was all ablaze with the news … So, smoking was not only a nasty habit, it was trending.

Ha … can you imagine the potential headline for The Times of London “No More Fags On Patios At Starbucks” …? (Look up slang Brit terms for cigarettes if you are having problems with that … my buddies and I always called them “snipes” … the smokes that is. Ha … “smokes” there’s another dubious term.) I’m just sayin …

Cig Slang

Hmmm … I don’t see a hint of the story on the www.starbucks.com site though, nor an explanation of why the Wi-Fi has performed so poorly at this store for months, for that matter.

(I solved that second issue by my own self … they have been monkeying around with the hotspot and/or splash page to support ads. So, not only do we have to breathe cleaner air now at Starbucks, we are force-fed marketing messages on the Wi-Fi. What is this world coming to?)

You know, this smoky patio thing has bothered me for years, yet, uncharacteristically I can assure you, I have remained tight-lipped … However, I have been to probably 300 Starbucks around the country, and a few overseas. BUTT, I have never sat on their patio to check the Wi-Fi. Why? It stinks so bad! The cloud on their patio is NOT the Internet.

Yes … smokers have rights and probably a somewhat air-tight car out in the parking lot. Lock your door and knock yourself out. If I were still a smoker I think I would see this as a sign. People are fed up with breathing other’s smoke. It may be time to start exercising the right in a manner that doesn’t adversely affect others. Again, just sayin …

At “My Bux” — same thing. The outdoors are not so great … not suitable for healthy consumption. I mean … even if you don’t care about my lungs, what about the children … ha … or even the “sacred cows” of this messed up society … the dogs also on the patio? (No don’t get me started on how people treat dogs better than children …)

Yes, if you have heard about those self-righteous, vindictive or extremely allergic ex-smokers … well … I’m am like a nicotine fiend’s worse nightmare … Pretty ironic, since I learned to write my name by looking at my daddy’s package … uh … his cigarette package which he carried in the chest pocket of his pearl snap western shirt … thank you.

So about my friend the barista. I need to check to see if she de-friended me on FB. She posted the story with an ambiguous comment. And I LIKED it immediately. She may have been upset by the news and my glee may have been perceived as a snub. It was not. She is a favorite!

And for the record, I have suggested a couple of times that she should quit. For her own wellbeing … she is a wonderful person … the kind we would all like to keep around as long as possible.

As a matter of fact. She has been a favorite for the 9-10 years I have been a fixture in the shop. Ha … I call that Starbucks home (and they probably call me homeless). I digress … Hell … I’m there so much, if my blog were any good, I think Starbucks would claim part ownership.

Anywho, she has been sportin the green apron, smiling and taking over-caffeinated crap from people like me for years, and never copped an attitude. Ha … unless it was on smoke break. I can’t say. She has been there … almost every day …

So this barista posted it – you know come to think of it she has been here forever while other baristas and managers just disappear. What is she doing, killing them and eating them? Ooh no, I bet she is disposing of the evidence with a bean grinder and serving them in skinny lattes … I digress … and I bet you didn’t see that coming … LOL!

So I am here, in a slightly more smoke-free Fort Worth. It has been more than two months since I have been out on the road. My Dirty Gig for now is in a warehouse, cleaning and preserving old railroad maps. Kind of interesting … meanwhile, my buddies are spread around, working on cruise ships in exotic locations, cleaning up tornados just about everywhere and fixing chemical explosions just up the road.

And I am here, breathing a little easier. For the time being, Bux, I guess you’re stuck with me.

Know what I sayin?

A little set up first:

To promote the PingWi-Fi brand, I started a thing a few years ago where I send out little blurbs called HisTweets on Twitter.  The HisTweets are little factoids on “this day in history” with a little PingFlava added, and usually a side order of YouTube video regarding that event in history.

Here are a few examples of some historically significant HisTweets we sent, and the accompanying links.

•  Histweet> This day, 1940, 200 people died in a dance-hall fire in Natchez, Miss. Natchez Fire
•  Happy Queen Mum Day! Queen Elizabeth II is 87. Queen Mum Is Fun … #GirlsWantToHaveFun montage.
• Histweet> This day, 1902, financier Cecil #Rhodes left $10M for scholarships at Oxford. Here’s a recipient. Favorite Rhodes Scholar

We also do dedications from time to time for celebrity birthdays or milestones in Rock ‘n’ Roll.  Here are a few tweet examples, from our last PingFloyd Day to commemorate  Pink Floyd, of course:

•  PingFLOYD Day concludes with the second coolest concert idea ever – Live at Pompeii Floyd Among The Ruins  #PinkFloyd #PingWiFi
•  Sweet acoustic version of our favorite Gilmour/Floyd as PingFLOYD Day continues on the ping … Wish You Were Here  #unplugged
•  Time to get your Floyd on … PingFloyd Day continues to honor Mr. Gilmour’s BDay! More Floyd
•  David Gilmour of Pink Floyd is 67, so, we bring you PingFLOYD Day! Rock on you crazy diamonds! Crazy Diamond  #PinkFloyd #SXSW

What does any of this have to do with Wi-Fi?  Well not much.  Like I was saying it is a brand building strategy with social media.  And of course on seemingly rare occasions  – those day when we do write about Wi-Fi — there is usually some music or entertainment involved.  So … “works for me.”

All that being said.  Here was the most recent Serendipity ping thing.  As I tweeted the events of the day, on April 21, it was the birthdate of the infamous Red Baron of Germany.  You probably know, he was Baron von Richthofen, and he was a deadly flying ace, credited with winning 80 air battles in WWI.

Red Baron

As I was tweeting — but before I mentioned the flying ace — I received an e-mail.  I had a new follower on Twitter, totally, absolutely unrelated to anything I was doing at the time.

I am a curious sort so I opened the e-mail and looked at the profile of the new follower.  It was some travel writer/tech guru from Germany.  I had never heard of his hometown before — Kiel — but it caught my eye.  (My ex once sold makeup in retail, and one of the brands was Kiehl’s.)  So, like I said, it caught my eye.

The HisTweets continued …  Then I had this idea.  A few days ago on the Web, I had seen that there was also a German flying ace (WWII) named Pingel … Rolf Pingel.

So, in the Red Baron tweet, I also fired off about Rolf Pingel, with a link to his Wikipedia information. (I think it is cool, even though we American Pingels fought on the winning side in WWI …)

Histweet> This day, 1918, Baron von Richthofen, German “Red Baron,” killed in WW I. But Rolf Pingel lived on – Uncle Rolfie

Here’s the punchline.  Guess where flying Ace Rolf Pingel was born.

Kiel Germany.  (Had you heard of Kiel Germany before?)

Originally,  I discovered Uncle Rolfie a while back, doing the old Google search of “Pingel.”  Interesting … in WWII, the Germans issued collectors cards for the flying aces, almost like our baseball cards.

Anyone want to trade a 1945 Rolf Pingel rookie card?

Man I like this kinda stuff.  And, if you do too and want more PingTweets, do follow: Ping On Twitter

Know what I sayin?

My friend Randy and I were just texting about how much we enjoy those serendipitous little things in everyday life. Here’s why we were on the topic.

Two weeks ago, back home in The Texas Panhandle near Vega, he and I were at the ruins of an old stone wall of a sheepherders’ camp on a remote ranch, a site where Billy The Kid once hid out when he wasn’t stealing horses or whatever.

As we looked at the wall, I made a remark about that great film “Shawshank Redemption.” “Ha, maybe if we move that stone, we’ll find a note from Andy.” (You’ve seen Shawshank right?) We didn’t disturb the wall, but later that very evening, at my sister’s house, I turned on the TV. Guess what was airing that night on one of the movie channels. You got it. Shawshank! AND, at the very moment the picture appeared, the film was at the scene where Morgan Freeman is digging around at the stone wall and finds the letter from Andy (Tim Robbins). What are the odds?

If you have read this blog with any regularity, you know I am going to say it. “God’s sense of humor, I like to call it.”

It’s been a season of serendipity.

Today the Ping team here in Fort Worth completed a photo shoot with another Vega guy, Doug. Doug and I grew up in the same Texas Panhandle town of about 900 people, but because of our age difference had never met. Some 400 miles further South, in Fort Worth, we met about a year ago. Doug and I had seen each other a lot in Fort Worth, since we frequent the same Starbucks … a lot.

But one day about a year ago, Doug broke the ice, in such an interesting way.

Doug approached me in the Fort Worth coffeeshop and said, “Hello sir … hey, this is going to sound kind of unusual, but did I just see you in Vega, Texas at the Oldham County Roundup?”.

He had in fact. I try to go to the old timers’ reunion every year back in the Big V. Somehow I didn’t see him, but he had spotted me and recognized me, but we didn’t talk or meet until we were both back in Fort Worth.

Ha … we laughed about each of us having long hair, although that is not the norm in Vegaville. And of course that we see each other in Fort Worth all the time. Two caffeinated strangers …

A few months passed and one day I found out that yes, Doug owns the other motorcycle parked out front most of the time. Yet another similarity for this story.

Then the next thread to intertwine was about the hair. I mentioned that I was growing mine long to donate to some unfortunate child through the Locks of Love organization. You guessed it. Yes, Doug also is about to donate. So, what the heck. Today we went out in the parking lot of Starbucks and did a Locks of Love donor photo with motorcycles.

Doug is saying goodbye to his longhaired ways in just a few days so he can donate. As for me … I am going to try to stand it a little bit longer. We’ll see.

Locks Of Love

The long hair. The same home town. The motorcycles. The same Starbucks … and some people think we look alike — he a younger more fine-tuned version …

My new friend Aziz asked if Doug and I are brothers. Ha … my old friend Reagan asked on Facebook if we were the Allman Brothers. (see photo) And of course one of the baristas made a crack about us being bruthas from anutha mutha …

Anywho … as Doug and I were chatting, I mentioned my recent trip to Oldham County, and the brick wall … remember the brick wall story? … where Billy The Kid once hid out. Doug surprised me once again. Doug’s grandfather once worked on and around that historic ranch … the one with the old stone wall and Billy The Kid and all. And that’s where Doug’s father’s ashes are scattered.

Moral of the story … strike up a conversation with a stranger at Starbucks today. You never know where it might lead.

Know what I sayin?

Let’s just say for a second that the Wi-Fi hotspot at your favorite Starbucks is working for a change … and you’re about to grab your favorite blogging chair … but “What’s this?” … Someone is seated “in my chair?”

I mean, if a guy can have a regular pew in church (which I have, quite territorially for 27 years) then surely one can call dibs on a favorite chair in Starbucks. Ha, talk about entitlement. The baristas at my Starbucks refer to one of the easy chairs beside the bar as “Kent’s chair.”

Ha … this “ownership thing” has even trickled down to the clientele. My new friend Aziz — a student with a new set of Dr. Dre Beats headphones and the most sweet/glorious collection of expensive NFL and NBA ball caps ever — hopped up the other day to give me the seat. “No, go ahead,” he insisted. “It is your chair.”

I like this guy!

Anywho, call me spoiled, creature of habit or whatever. I got no problem with that!

So what to do if one of the “uninitiated” show up and sit in your chair, unwittingly?

Hmmm … we called in the research department on a Sunday and together we came up with a list of offensive strategies:

#10

Crazily, drop down on one’s hands and knees mumbling, “I’ve dropped my best vial of white spores.”

#9

Smack crack chew, and pop with two or three pieces of Super Bubble just within earshot. (For added results, bite off 2-3 fingernails and a hangnail, add to the mix.)

#8

Sniff armpits (one’s own thank you) and ask the seat invader if they too love the smell of fresh brewed.

#7

Call up the utility company of choice, telling them you wish to suspend service for an account that doesn’t really exist, answering all of the questions quite verbose, loudly and courteously, remembering to enunciate and phonetically spell words that could be misunderstood over the cellular technology.

#6

Tell the squatter that your Facebook photo features you kissing your Ruger 9mm pistol and invite them to friend you “Or else!”

#5

Start warming up a neti pot nearby.

#4

Exercise the fine art of public sleeping in the closest chair, snoring at will.

#3

Awake from the fine art of public sleeping, wave hand in front of face, smile as if really pleased with onesself and go back to sleep.

#2

Turn your music up louder than even Aziz’s (I like to say Aziz’s's’s … I digress).  Finish your iced drink, then really go after that last shard of ice in the bottom of the cup, USING that little green straw for all its worth.

#1

Hand the person a religious tract, telling them God has asked you to personally deliver the copy to them.

Dang. I could have stopped at number 6. The dude left and my chair is open. Good thing. I was about to “pull out the big guns,” remove my shoes and do “Three Little Pigs” in different character voices, while harvesting toe jam with a pocket knife.

Gotta run, before someone else beats me to my chair.

Know what I sayin?

I love me some Schlotzsky’s.

They were one of the pioneering eateries to offer free Wi-Fi, and at least in Texas, they are pretty much everywhere. (Darn it. I saw something about a Schlotzsky’s opening in New York or maybe New Jersey after I just left there recently.)

Anywho … great sandwiches and you can just blog and tweet and Facebook and IM and whatever in their shops — that is if you can keep your hands off The Original for a little while.

Quick side note: I first fell in love with their buns, et. al, in college years. I was managing a stereo store and across the parking lot was a Schlotzsky’s. Ha … I can vouch that it is a good thing that other lard ass “Jared” didn’t fall in love with Schlotzsky’s. Let’s just say, they are not recommended every day. But … I was a beanpole and did it anyway. Here’s the interesting thing. As I got to know the staff, I recognized the name of the asst. manager.

Her name was Cindy, like my sister’s name, and I recognized this woman’s full name because she had been a high school track star, so her name was in the newspaper all the time. Being an avid sports reader, I knew her name like my own … or my sister’s or whatever. It got more interesting. I mentioned this new friend to my mom … and Mom told me the rest of the story. My mother had shared a hospital suite with Cindy #2′s mom, when she had my sister Cindy.

Ha … if you have been following this blog, you may realize this is not once, but twice I have met people out of the blue, who entered this world, sharing hospital rooms with my mom, when she was delivering. Ha … we’re a big family so I guess the odds are in our favor.  And raise your hand if you have ever heard me say “I love a coincidence.”

So … Schlotzsky’s is like a member of the family, so to speak.

A couple of years ago, I traded e-mails with some of the corporate PR types for Schlotzsky’s down in Austin. We are supposed to get gether one of these days just to compare notes on Wi-Fi and travel and blogging. Meanwhile, my colleague in high places, I had several of your fresh baked buns in various locations around Austin during SXSW.

… Pulled the Triumph over in Waco and Hillsboro for an Original too, to and fro …

But sadly, SXSW was right after my birthday and I did not have a print out of the coupon Z-sky’s sends to me every year for my birthday. I used to say this about the fax machine — now it’s the printer. … I just don’t use or typically need a printer anymore. Everything is an electronic document or PDF or JPG or whatever. So, the way I figure it, since I am saving the landfills from more empty toner cartridges and lots of paper, I think Schlotzsky’s owes me dozens of sandwich. I mean … I can be entitled too, right?

Well, meanwhile the electronic offers keep coming from the sandwich people. The other day they told me i could have a free pizza if I bought a 44 oz. soft drink. Hmmm … If I ordered a 64-ounce schooner of Coke, could I have two pizzas? And would that piss off what’s-her-name in the White House? Ha … if that is the case, I am down. The bigger the gulp, the better. Or was it Bloomberg who initiated the war on soda? Whatever ….

Say … what ever happened to the Trenta iced tea at Starbucks? Did the no good, calorie-counting spoil sport soft drink warlords quash that too?

I digress …

So, yet another electronic coupon has come my way, and me without a printer. It is just wasted on me. Has this happened to you? Or am I the only one who is over the laser printer revolution?

Well … being the tech savvy (joke) guy I am, and because I am cheap and be wantin them free sandwiches, I contacted corporate-Sky’s again. I offered a solution.

“How about you guys do an app. like everyone else under the sun, so that I can take an electronic bar code coupon on my iPhone, and then I can redeem it.?” (You know, sort of like how I stick my phone in front of the scanner at Starbucks and it makes a beep and then magically produces a venti green tea frappuccino?) Let’s do that Schlotsky’s.

Ha … I just got the response from a very well-meaning, polite customer service rep. over at muffaletta-ville. He suggested I go to the public library and print the coupon. (Sarcasm spoiler …) “Yes … I will get right on that … and drive five miles, circle downtown for thirty minutes to find a parking spot, pump a buck into the parking meter, get a bruise near my crotch from the turnstile in the library door, fail to produce a library card because someone borrowed it and has un-returned books on breastfeeding overdue since 1990, do some fast talking and get in anyway and print out a coupon for albeit a great sandwich, but alas, just a $5-sandwich.”

How about we just work on that app., Schlotsky’s?

Know what I sayin?

Dave Grohl said he wasn’t the world’s best drummer and probably wasn’t even the best guitar player in the room at his SXSW Keynote Speech during the festival’s music week. But, along the way to superstardom he was left to his own devices and found his own voice.

This “voice” planted him in the Seattle punk band Scream at 17, after years of multi-track taping his own music in his bedroom as a teen. Respectfully, he credited the white wizard of Houston blues rock — Edgar Winter — with first compelling Grohl to devote his life to music.

The legendary Nirvana drummer and Foo Fighter nucleus then went on to do a vocal scat on the stage at SXSW, emulating The Edgar Winter Group’s monster hit instrumental from 1973 – “Frankenstein.” Grohl picked up a 1975 K-Tel compilation album, featuring the hit.

“Dom dom dom duh dom dom dom … ” You get it.

He encouraged the crowd of music enthusiasts and musicians to find their voice and to remember “the musician comes first.”

He described the early years with Nirvana, hammering out songs over and over and over until they were perfect — rehearsing in an old barn every day and every night.

But it paid off and soon after Grohl joined Nirvana, the band took over the world. They went from punks who rejected the system to the biggest band in the world at the time … owning the system.

And of course then it all crashed to the ground, after flying so close to the sun … with leader Curt Cobain’s suicide.

As Grohl paused to reflect on his despair with the lost of his friend and bandmate, the room fell so silent, one could have heard a guitar pick fall in the gray convention hall carpet. … A very solemn moment in a presentation filled with humor and personal anecdotes and real time demonstrations.

Grohl used two antiquated, cheap cassette recorders to demonstrate how he experimented with multi track recording in his youth — first recording a small guitar riff into one recorder. Hitting playback on one recorder, and hitting record on the second, to add some rhythmic drumming on the body of his acoustic guitar. Then he played back the second tape to demonstrate how he began mixing his first music. Crude … but creative.

Repeatedly he alluded to how in the early days he could record all the music — all the instruments — himself, book the tour dates, write the songs, make the coffee and screen print the t-shirts.

After the death of Nirvana, as catharsis and therapy, he found himself in a studio alone again and laid down a bunch of tracks in a week. He said he thought he had a demo real, circulated a tape, and as it spread through the grapevine, the suits of the record companies beat a path to his door. They thought he had an album.

He threw out a name so that people would think there was a band, instead of him playing all the parts. And The Foo Fighters were born.

Early in his discussion — a talk littered with a generous helping of F-bombs as is “so cool” when anyone in entertainment takes the microphone nowadays — he told the audience that choosing a name is key.

“Finding the band name is the hardest [eff-ing] part. Foo Fighters is a terrible name,” he laughed, pulling up his reading glasses for the occasion, sporting near-shoulder length dark hair and beard …. and a plaid shirt … that with a little bit of imagination, one might pretend it was the flannel uniform of the grungesters.

One of the best keynotes I have ever seen … after all the years at Consumer Electronics Show, COMDEX, SXSW and a host of other trade shows over the years.

In addition to the keynote address, Grohl was in Austin making and selling screen printed t-shirts for his film “Sound City: Real To Reel.”

Just kidding …

He was promoting … The film marks Grohl’s debut as a feature documentary director/producer. SSR2R focuses on the history of the California recording studio where legends such as Neil Young, Fleetwood Mac, Tom Petty, Fear, Johnny Cash, Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine, Queens of the Stone Age, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails and Weezer have laid down some of their best art. Grohl’s personal connection to Sound City dates back over 20 years, to the 1991 recording of “Nevermind,” which sold over 30 million copies worldwide.

Before Grohl took the podium, a great band featuring some hip hop moves, one of the most energetic drummers ever and not one but two guys on violins warmed up the crowd. Their only fault? Little self promotion. Say your name! Was it Black Light? I just know they were good … very good.

Know what I sayin?

The weirdness keeps on keeping on here in Austin for yet another day at SXSW — the South By Southwest Festival — which brings together the worlds of film, music and interactive for one big burnt orange rave – 24/7.

The PingWi-Fi contingent has drifted in and out between the three categories listed above for live music, film red carpets and blogger lounges.  All over the city, we have sampled some of the world’s best Wi-Fi access from the funky blended juices at Halcyon at 4th & Lavaca to the mysterious tribal elixirs of SquareRüt way out south on South Congress to the perennial favorite coffee at Mozart’s on the lake.

We’ve read some pretty impressive accounts of how the city and the Something By Something Else team has put together this huge Wi-Fi array with a combination of hotspots, radios, fiber and even old school copper lines to blanket the festival area.

Austin Wi-Fi has done rightXus at every turn, with excellent coverage throughout Austin city limits, allowing us to tweet until the cows come home and to upload more video and photos than you can shake a stick at – 7 pings, perfectamundountodo.

McConaughey, Sarah Green, Mike Nichols, “Mud”

M. Blash, Chloe Sevigny, “The Wait”

From the world of film, we captured Austin’s favorite son Matthew McConaughey … or “Matthew McConaLonghorn” as we tagged him until we found a keyboard with spellcheck. As for music, we have poked our head in on some pretty horrible death metal bands (is that redundant) and checked out some funky, swamp water sounding blues from Oklahoma … with some adventurous alternative/art rock mixed in. It’s all here! Why aren’t you?

Ha … overall, the experience is exhilarating, and nothing short of overwhelming. What to do next? So much to see? Each day we receive dozens of news releases on bands no one knows … yet. So, who do you see? Who will be this year’s breakout band? Hard to say … so much talent/so little time. But, we’ll give it the old college try here in The ATX.

Mont Lyons at Buffalo Lounge

Know what I sayin?

I guess I just have a knack for being in the right place at the right time … sort of. Because out of all the hundreds of concerts where Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips has hopped inside his space ball and walked over the audience, flawlessly, the PingWi-Fi team picked the one show where everything went wrong. Two thirds into Coyne’s space walk over the people in the crowd, the power at his show in Denton, Texas went dead. The lights went black. The sound went silent … and there was Wayne, marooned way back in the back of the crowd, frantically trying to turn the ball around and head back to the safety of the stage.

He made it, and now, some three years later, I still have the tape of the show. He handled it so well, making light of the situation, calming the crowd, speaking through a bullhorn:

“Sorry about that. If it happens again, we’ll just keep going. We’ll stop and we’ll regroup. … Anyway, what would have happened, is I would have walked gloriously on the top of you people’s heads over there. (cheers and applause) And it would have been awesome! And I would have levitated across the grass, and then I would have gloriously walked on top of your heads over there. (cheers and applause) And then you would have plopped me back on the stage, and the band would have gone through this amazing introduction. So, we’re going to act like I already did all of that … But we’ll go into our first song, but you have to act like all that happened, and it was the best &%$#%^-ing thing in the world, okay?”

- Wayne Coyne

Since that night I have been determined to interview this star walker … this charismatic, psychedelic showman … this confetti spreading ambassador of Oklahoma City who disseminates a message of weirdness and love all over this planet.

Lips Video, Denton Show 

So … I’ve been trading e-mails with some of The Flaming Lips types across the Red River from Texas, and have been reading up on Coyne’s “new baby” … an art gallery … just a few blocks from OKC’s Bricktown … It’s called The Womb. In its infancy, the new gallery appears it will pick up where a Flaming Lips stage show leaves off. Yes, you might have guessed, there is a small room to one side, where you enter through a parted pair of “lips.” On a recent visit, this womb room was filled with pink balloons and a few benches because some insiders had just held a wedding there. Pretty whack.

In another room, there is a 20X20 feet Damien Hirst original painting, suspended horizontally, like a false ceiling in the room. The painting – I am told, is a collaboration of the British artist and Coyne — is covered in plastic, as a workman rigs electricity in the room.

You know I love coincidence … and I spotted some. Currently, back at PingWi-Fi headquarters, I am 450-pages deep into a book about rocker Joe Strummer of The Clash. Strummer’s friendship with Hirst is sprinkled throughout the book. Apparently Coyne and Hirst are BFFs too … or a close facsimile.

Damien Hirst

Before realizing the Hirst common denominator, I was already likening this Flaming Lips adventure to another tale featuring The Clash.

Many years ago, I hopped in my car and drove for two hours with the thought of a possible interview with Strummer and The Clash, for a newspaper. The band’s record company at the time, CBS, told me “No way!” But still … I hoped in the car, thinking positively. It turned out, I found The Clash sunbathing beside the pool of their hotel, met them and now consider them the biggest trophy on my mantle of rock journalism.

Well … this time, I hopped on my motorcycle, headed off for a couple of hundred miles over to Lipsland, hoping to capture Oklahoma’s famous sons on tape. Coyne had already committed to a telephone interview, but I was after visuals. So, I chanced it and made the ride.

After a night hot tubbing in a pretty swank hotel room for a La Quinta (with excellent Wi-Fi, I might add), I headed to breakfast … still optimistic. Thats when I received a cosmic sign that The Flaming Lips thing was going to happen. At breakfast, NBC’s today show aired a story about all the crazy things airport security and the TSA stops in the screening process … stay with me on this … gun, knives, scissors and even grenades.

WHAT!?!

Guess who — back in November — was arrested for attempting to board a plane with a gold painted (disarmed) grenade. Yes … the eclectic Mr. Wayne Coyne, and authorities shut down the entire Oklahoma City airport, or so they say. So … can you see how I thought this new grenade news story was a direct sign from the rock gods?

Wayne’s Grenade

After that I was so-oooo encouraged.

But alas … this time, I returned home empty handed after a long journey. Some times you win … I received a couple of texts from Coyne while I was at The Womb, apologizing that he was in meetings with stage production people and such, planning the band’s next tour, including their stop in Austin, headlining the 2013 SXSW Festival.

Jake

I say “empty handed” … actually that is not the case. I have a new Flaming Lips t-shirt with Coyne sporting space alien antennae on the front … I have passed throughout The Womb twice and lived to tell about it … and I met several members of the entourage … including Jake who serves as curator at The Womb and Mary Beth who runs Dwelling Spaces gift shop under the gallery roof.

Dwelling Spaces

Dwelling Spaces has just about every Flaming Lips t-shirt you’ve ever seen, clocks made of Lips vinyl records, Wayne finger puppets (that I think look a little more like Charlton Heston playing Moses) Woody Guthrie calendars celebrating another famous Oklahoma son. There are lots of shirts featuring Big Foot … Sasquatch … or Yeti, depending on your big hairy legend of choice. I tried not to be to much of a rude Texan when I questioned Big Foot. No … I know it is real, I just don’t think the big hairy unit is an Okie.

Mary Beth

As I visited with the hosts, I stopped mid-sentence … they were mocking me. Not the Oklahomans, the rock gods. Just a few inches from where I was standing was a newspaper article, faded, yellowing, taped to the shelf — the story of Wayne and his grenade.

Grenade Clip

Nowhere in the town did I see even a mention of Three Dog Night, the last rock band everyone knew from Oklahoma (WHAT! Only one member of Three Dog Night was from Oklahoma?) … and thank goodness, I didn’t see anything with Brian Bosworth. Several water towers in the area are adorned with country singer’s names. But, on the other hand, there is a Flaming Lips Alley in the heart of Oklahoma City.

I get the impression Oklahoma City has some sort of love/hate relationship with the Lips … kind of an uneasy, reluctant acceptance that these self-proclaimed freaks are one of the biggest stage attractions all over the world. Although the band has a street, The Womb had several issues with the fire marshal before construction could continue on the gallery. And if you Google, there is an interesting story about The Oklahoma legislature locking horns on whether or not the Lips song “Do You Realize” should be the official rock song of Oklahoma. The story goes, the bill did not pass, so the governor of Oklahoma stepped in and made a special decree. Pretty cool government in action, if you ask me. Wonder if Wayne ever thought about getting a Flaming Lips drone?

The Womb looks like a warehouse from the outside, revamped with lots of pastel creatures here and there on the walls … and there is a dilapidated upright piano basking … or busking … in the sun on the sidewalk … a piano that looks like some ancient relic of a Grateful Dead stage … with skulls bejeweling it.

But the space actually was an automotive dealership at one time … poetically, it housed the most quirky of all American makes, The Studebaker. And in the back, is a very steep driveway to the second floor. There are Flaming Lips stage props everywhere. During my tour of the place, I climbed the ramp with Jake and another new friend and snapped a few shots of some of the Flaming Lips’ extended family.

Dennis Coyne

As i clicked away with the Nikon, Dennis Coyne front man of the Oklahoma group Star Death & White Dwarfs was tuning a guitar, silhouetted by Oklahoma sunshine spilling through a wall of industrial looking windows … overlooking the chilly downtown streets below.

Tunin

Dennis is the nephew of Wayne … and the rest of the story — Dennis’ band opened the show for The Flaming Lips at the concert in Denton … the show with all the power failure issues.

It was a pretty cool moment. Like I said, I came back to Texas — Lipless, but I made some new friends and it was quite the trip … But you know what? As for the Wayne Coyne interview — I am just gonna pretend it happened, and it was the best &%$#%^-ing thing in the world!

Yo!

Know what I sayin?

Last night may have been one of The Fort’s finest hours. In a relatively small venue – Live Oak off Magnolia — Fort Worth music heads circled up around one of the best musicians in the world — Donald Fagen … composer, producer, studio musician extraordinaire, co-founder of and singer for one of the true supergroups — Steely Dan.

Rather than some arena rock spectacle or an elaborate black-tie classic concert for PBS, it was local band — Oh Whitney — that brought the Steely one to Cowtown for a little pickup game.

So what was it that attracted Fagen to the band? One story is that an OW member spotted Fagen at a beachside resort and approached him. The two shared a drink, exchanged a disc and before you could say “Rikki don’t lose that number” Fagen agreed to produce the OhWhits.

Last night the mentor fired up his keyboard with the locals under his tutelage. Ha … tutelage, such an odd word. I digress …

Oh Whitney was really impressive, even without the added star power. Confession: I had not heard them before but the band has obviously been around based on their stage presence, confidence and music.

Oh Whitney

Always hard to describe music … easy to make comparisons. Early in the show there were certainly some similarities to the more bluegrass-ish moments of The Grateful Dead’s long strange trip — falsetto vocals, sweet mandolin. But the band is more multifaceted than that, emulating the rhythm of a train on the tracks at one point and then building into a bit of a reggae beat, showing signs of country and rock. At one point in the show, I was reminded of Denton’s Midlake, but with only about one third as many musicians.

All the while Fagen was weaving in and out with his cool, jazzy, Deacon-bluesy keyboard stylings adding yet another flavor. Improvisational. At times funky. It worked ever so nicely. One can only think the Oh Whitney-plus-one chemistry onstage will lead to great things in the studio.

Oh Whitney … all the ingredients and a master producer on board — 6 pings.

Has anyone else noted that Fagen somewhat brings to mind Ray Charles … slightly … as he leans to and fro and rocks around behind the keyboard in ever-present glasses? I digress …

Live Oak’s concert room is small enough that the show seems intimate and civil. Fully loaded last night … it probably squeezed in 300 people … I’m guessing a large percentage were Facebook followers of The Fort Worth Star-Telegram‘s Bud Kennedy, based on demographics … and considering his FB posts were one of the earliest hints of Fagen’s appearance. For the record, yes, Bud was there “reelin in the years” like the rest of us.

I might also add that for the most part, the crowd looked like a gathering of McDavid’s regulars gone south, with all ages mixed in including socialites with their grown children. Oh … this was interesting. When was the last time you met an air traffic controller at a concert? My new friend, David (I think it was), could swap Steely Dan-isms with the best of ‘em, having chilled with The Dan in concert four times — when he wasn’t doing one of the most stressful jobs known to man.

As I am prone to do, I checked for Wi-Fi at Live Oak after the warm up band and before OW+1. Good news/bad news. Live Oak is with hotspot, yet, one must hunt down a passcode to deliver their updates with Wi-Fi. Boo.

Live Oak

Now … about this warm up band …

Animal Spirit

Animal Spirit broke the ice around nine o’clock. Interesting. A very visual band, with a frontwoman who dances and writhes (in a good way) as much as she sings. The bassist is accomplished and in my opinion a young John Malkovich doppelganger. The drummer is — like me – the token long hair and is one of those hardest-working-men-in-show-business types … head down, back there just a kickin it. Now … about the lead guitarist … midway during the show, he laid down his axe and tied a base drum around his neck, beating it for all he was worth. Meanwhile, the singer was discipling a wine bottle with a drumstick for added percussion and everyone joined in on vocals … almost a cappella, almost experimental. Interesting. Ha … I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I found the guitarists’ rawhide, lace-up workbooks interesting. His axework … fast and impressive. Pump up the vocals.

Animal Spirit

And the crowd who showed up in time for the opening act … LOL … I am usually put off by drunks who want to be part of the live show at a small venue. But at this show at Live Oak, it was charming as a cougar-licious momma yelled “hot hot hot” at the gyrating songstress on stage.

How they sound?

(Always the comparisons …)

Reminiscent of Minutemen, early Sabbath and Bow Wow Wow in a mash up. Great developing musicians, but these animals seldom jelled in their compositions … tended to “walk on each other.” If they master arrangement, they may have something. For most of the show, the vocals were inaudible — even though they were fun to watch — perhaps an error at the mixing board. Who knows, Animal Spirit may have something to say.  Nice bass vibes, aggressive drummer, quirky but proficient guitar work and that dancing spectacle.

Know what I sayin?