For the second time, in as many days, I find myself at what has apparently become the new rock ‘n roll hotspot: Gas Monkey Live! There simply has got to be a better name for this place. At any rate, I’m sitting in my car, as the rain ceaselessly falls, listening to Armored Saint; isn’t everyone? When what to my watering eyes does appear but my hetero life-partner The Silver Fox! It’s been a while since I’ve basked in all that is The Fox and the universe was now clearly telling me it was time.
So I spring forth from my car… Well maybe spring forth isn’t exactly accurate, but I was excited, yo. I glibly greet The Fox, by giving him “The Finger” as is our wont and all seems right. We back-slap and banter as you do and began the interminable wait for the arrival of Armored Saint. Finally, The Saint arrives in a low-budget, presumably rented SUV. I could tell it was them because the Sandoval brothers’ hair was protruding unceremoniously from open windows on either side of the vehicle, conjuring a heavy metal clown car.
First to disembark is Phil Sandolval. He put me in mind of a grungy Carlos Santana. I believe he was as excited to meet me as I was him. He gladly autographed my stuff and posed, panther-like for a fan photo. I love this man and this band! Next up was brother Gonzo. He stepped to, resplendent in a backward baseball cap, perched precariously above his wiry mane of hair. It seemed to move independently of his hair and I was delighted by it.