20 Mar
March 28th or 29, the band Cobra Kai will be possibly reuniting at Glypha’s House, a small club venue in Western Omaha.
They will be drinking the bears, eating the meats and salads, and playing the Rock Bands. Also rocking the house down.
At present, only one member of the band, Cliff Glypha, has confirmed attendance. More on this as it become available.
Below: In this rare 2007 photo, four of the five original members of Cobra Kai can be seen after their last concert in Omaha, NE. The gig was called to a close early when angry fans burnt the venue to the ground upon news of a break-up. (left to right: Max Univers, Dick Herculanum, Continental Frutiger, and Cliff Glypha.)
Archive for » March, 2008 «
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Another post in the “Randomly Occurring Periodic Post About Something Design Related” series, because although I wasn’t asked to participate in the Grand Finale Series on a certain website, that doesn’t mean I don’t have things I’d like to write.
One day last week, I was out running errands over my lunch hour, and I needed some general consumable household items. Paper towels, toothpaste, garbage bags — real exciting stuff, let me tell you. I happened to be on 140th and Center here in Omaha, so I decided to swing by Shop-Ko because it was the closest store.
I’ve always held a certain kind of fondness for Shop-Ko, because its always reminded me of Target before Target was TARGET, if you know what I mean. A cleaner, friendlier discount department store than Wal-Mart. Everything from the layout of the stores to the price signs on the shelves typeset in black Helvetica Bold on plain white stock reminded me of Target: 1990. They weren’t trying to be hip, cool or trendy, just a nice, clean store. They were what they were, and I respected that.
But as I pulled into the parking lot, I metaphorically dropped my chalupa on the floor of my car. Not literally, because chalupas are too tasty to actually drop no matter how shocked you may be by an event. But metaphorically, sure, I dropped it. And it was a metaphorical mess, just like this story. Shut up.
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Last weekend, I somehow managed to break my internet. It was a simple maneuver, or so I thought: I was moving the giant-ass TV in my office into another room, and putting a smaller TV in the office so it could set on my desk. I was getting a serious case of sore-neck-sickness turning my torso to watch basketball last weekend, and this was a great solution.
But moving the TV from one side of the room to the other required unhooking the cable modem so that a longer wire could be strung to it. When I plugged it back in, the damn thing didn’t work.
Could be the wire, I thought. So I hooked the old one back up. Nothing.
Might be the splitter, I reasoned. So I hooked it directly up to the wall. Same deal.
Called Cox, and talked to their tech. I was glad to hear that the ridiculous computer-generated “Automated Tech Support” was no longer employed, because its insulting to have their computer ask you if the reason your computer isn’t working is because its not plugged in. I don’t much like acting as an intermediary between two computers. That’s not quite the role a sentient being ought to play, now is it?
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The second round of the NCAA Tournament took place on Saturday, featuring the four winners from Thursday facing each other for a trip to the Sweet 16. Kansas took on UNLV, while Wisconsin battled Kansas State. With two Kansas schools playing, tickets were going for ridiculous prices on the street. But UNLV and Wisconsin had plenty of fans too.
As Gilby and I walked in, we noticed an extraordinarily tall dude in front of us. I should have had my celebradar calibrated better, but I didn’t notice who it was. That is, not until a pack of UNLV fans began chanting, “Lar-ry! Lar-ry! Lar-ry!” When he turned to acknowledge them, I said “Holy crap, that’s Larry Johnson! Grandmom-ma! Gilby was particularly excited, because Larry had played a lot of years for his Knicks.
It had been a long, late night of partying for both of us on Friday (albeit at different parties) so we were not at all upset at the lack of beer sales. I’d been mildly perturbed by this fact on Thursday, although my behavior suggested I didn’t really need beer to make me act like a fool. But on Saturday, not so much. I desired one, two and perhaps even three Cokes. I settled for one Large Coke.
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Last week, the Men’s Basketball Tournament visited Omaha. Of course, because I’m just that awesome, I was able to buy tickets a year ago. Mind you, the tickets were never made available to the general public — you had to be a Creighton season ticket holder to get them. But of course, as a Jaybacker and ticket holder for years, that wasn’t a problem for me.
Anyway, I had the chance to buy eight tickets, and I should have done so. Not so I could have scalped them — although I could have made, by some media accounts, $1500 for a pair — but because I had a lot of friends ask me for tickets, and I would have loved to help them out. I think scalpers are scum, especially ones who made $1500 for tickets with a face value of $53.
For the four games on Thursday, my college roommate drove up from Des Moines. For the two games on Saturday, Gilby Clarke joined me. A journey through a cornucopia of hoops and other stuff follows. Since the games were all blowouts, the stories below mostly revolve around everything BUT the games. You bet.
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