Friday, July 31, 2009

Seen and Heard--Vegas Style!

Location(s): A dueling piano bar in the New York New York casino and Le Cabaret (a bar w/ dancefloor) in the Paris Casino

Heard: "Don't Stop Believin'" in both locations.

So the only thing that makes this particular Seen and Heard "Vegas style" is that it took place in Vegas. Otherwise, it would be just like any other Seen and Heard. No showgirls came out and performed a kick line; Carrot Top didn't appear with a trunk full of Journey-themed props and give a show (although he was on my flight out to Sin City. Um, hello, can we say good vacay omen?). But that doesn't mean it was any less entertaining. Rather, the performance by the dueling pianists at New York New York was joined by a chorus of drunken voices singing the song at the top of their lungs, and in Paris, people were shaking their groove thang (awkwardly) to it. On both occassions, friends were made; lovers were in drunken love; money was lost, both at the casino and at the bar; but a good time was still had by all. And those who had gambled and drank away their life's savings were kind enough to sob in private so as not to kill the mood for the rest of us. Viva Las Vegas.

Saturday, July 25, 2009


So my friend Brett sent me the link to the following article talking about "Don't Stop Believin's" status as a cultural touchstone. The article also mentions that Steve Perry is currently recording a solo album as well. As I'm still recovering from my vacation, I'll forego trying to come up with some witty commentary and just post the link. Enjoy!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Sin City, Steve Perry Style

Well, kids, tomorrow I embark on an epic journey to Las Vegas (and, no, I'm not kidding myself; considering the people that I will be with, this trip will indeed be epic), and as any fairly consistent reader of this blog can guess, this means my thought processes will naturally wander in one direction: how would Steve Perry do Sin City? That's right, boys and girls! Strap on your seatbelts, 'cause we're doing 95 down Dreamtown Lane! And before we begin, just a warning: you will not be in this scenerio. Why? Because this time, Steve has some bidness to take care of (including seducing a little lady), and frankly, you'd be a liability. So you'll just have to observe this time as a fly on the wall.

First of all, since Steve is a classy guy, he'd arrive in Vegas in style: fly in and rent a pimp-ass car with which to tool around in during his stay (I'm thinking a little red Corvette). And the first place he'd take that car would be to the Bellagio to check into his suite. He'd toss his keys to the valet, grab his bags, and jauntily retrieve his room key from the front desk, whistling, "Dixieland Delight" all the while. Why Dixieland Delight, you ask? Because it's a damn good song; Alabama is king. Now quit interrupting and don't question Steve's taste in music ever again.

After getting settled in his suite and freshening up, Steve is ready for some hard-core gambling. He goes down to the casino, and stays there for about 6 hours, playing the slots, roulette, blackjack and poker, and winning every time. Now, had this been any other person, the casino workers would have suspected him of using less-than-honest methods while playing; but since this is Steve Perry, they just smile, laugh, clap him on the back, and comp him drinks and a penthouse suite. Casino whores are throwing themselves at him left and right, but he takes his time; he knows they'll still be there later on that night.

After he's done gambling, Steve decides to catch a show, and since he's a bad-ass motherfucker, he doesn't go for the lame Cirque du Soleil or Wayne Newton shows. He catches wind that Aerosmith will be in town, and since "Love in an Elevator" is one of his all time favorite jamz (yes, with a z), he hightails it to enjoy some good, old-fashioned rock and roll. During the performance, Steven Tyler notices him in the audience, and he wastes no time inviting Steve up onstage to finish the concert with them. With Steve contributing, the audience members are immediately overcome by waves upon waves of PIOs, and when the music finally stops, they find themselves sucking on cigarettes, satisfied.

After the show, Aerosmith and Steve Perry imbibe a few alcoholic beverages and smoke some herbal suppliments, and Steve makes his way back to his suite, alone. But he knows he won't be alone by the time he actually gets to his room; on the way he picks up a cocktail waitress and the two giddily step onto the elevator.

When they get to the room, Steve wastes no time in amping up the charm. He pours two drinks, and engages her in flirty conversation, being generous with his compliments. The talking turns to kissing, the kissing turns into full on making out, and pretty soon Steve promises to give it to her "anyway she wants it" (BOOM! She just got Journey-ed!) and, well, the rest is history.

See, Steve Perry doesn't just "do" Vegas; he grips it by the cojones and makes it cater to his every whim. Now do you understand why you couldn't be in the scenerio this time?

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Ballin' Wit MJ

Sometimes I like to scour the interwebs for pictures that adequately show off Steve's mane of glorious man-hair or his sweet taste in outfits, but when I stumbled upon this little gem (courtesy of Steve Perry Online), I knew I had hit the jackpot, because this image shows how much of a BALLER Steve Perry is. How did the Earth not implode with the King of Pop and The Voice in the same room? I just wish Steve wore one of his trademark Journey outfits--next to Michael and his jacket, it would have looked pimp!

Want even more visual stimulation? Check out the video they did together (along with other 80s movers and shakers, including Dan Ackroyd, which I find hilarious). Check out the graphic at the beginning--it's a technological marvel!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Seen and Heard

Location: Howl at the Moon (an awesomely fun dueling piano bar) in Tampa, FL

Heard: Don't Stop Believin' (really, what other Journey songs are played in clubs and bars?)

It's Friday night. I'm part of an incredibly rad 80s-themed bachelorette party, imbibing alcoholic beverages and enjoying the rowdiness that Howl at the Moon consistenly seems to offer. From Cyndi Lauper- and Madonna-inspired costumes to a costume that looks like the lovechild of Rainbow Brite and Punky Brewster (a.k.a. mine), we're all clapping and singing along and having a grand ol' time. Then, one of the piano players says, "Who wants to hear some Journey?" which causes applause and cheers from all across the room. He teases us at first, playing a little "Faithfully," "Lights," and "Who's Crying Now," knowing full well the song we want: "Don't Stop motherfuggin' Believin'." Then, after airing his concerns of possibly getting his ass kicked if he didn't go ahead and play the damn song, we heard those magical opening bars and commenced a drunken group sing-along.

If I haven't adequately described the pure, unadulterated joy I feel when I hear Journey played in a public place when I least expect it, let me announce: THAT IS ONE OF THE GREATEST EXPERIENCES LIFE HAS TO OFFER! It unites strangers and makes us all feel as if we're at home (or at a friend's house) instead of in a random bar. I love experiences like that. It makes life a little richer.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Angsty Steve!

This video gives us the rarely seen "angsty Steve." That's right--not all of his videos are of him undressing you with his eyes and serenading you with sweet nothings. There are a few (see also Foolish Heart), such as this one, where the snazzy outfits and flowing man-hair are considerably toned down because Steve wants you to feel one thing and one thing only: his angst!

And after having watched this video, can't you feel it? I mean, the angst and hopelessness is palpable! If you were to stick your tongue out, you'd be able to taste it. Try it. See? Taste that metallic flavor? That's Steve Perry's ANGST! His hurt! His anger! (Told ya you'd be able to taste it.)

But, like any man with a support system, his bros come to the rescue in the form of free-falling out the window and staring at him as he drinks coffee. Hey, I don't pretend to understand male-bonding. But, really, when it comes to Steve Perry and Journey, are we even entitled to an explanation?

Friday, July 3, 2009

How Would Steve Perry Celebrate the Fourth of July?

Well, boys and girls, the fourth of July is just around the corner and I know we're all wondering the same thing: how would Steve Perry rock his Independence Day? (You were wondering that, don't argue.) I think I know how he would celebrate...

First of all, he'd be celebrating in San Francisco. And why not? While it's not mandatory, July 4th is one of those holidays that seems fitting to celebrate in one's hometown with family and friends. And Steve seems like the kind of guy who never forgets his roots, so he'd be in the City by the Bay, watching the fireworks display over the water. But that's at the end of the night! We're getting ahead of ourselves here! What would he do in the hours leading up to the fireworks?

He'd host a barbecue. This wouldn't be just any barbecue, mind you. I mean, it's Steve Perry. He would be cheating his talents and his iconic status by throwing a normal gathering. This would be the party of the year. Bigger than P. Diddy's White Party? Yes. Bigger than Oprah's annual birthday bash? Yes. Bigger than Pedamundo? Yes, yes, YES. Steve Perry's July 4th barbecue would be like a Florida State tailgate, Woodstock, Bonaroo, Hugh Heffner's Playboy Mansion parties and a weekend bender at Amy Winehouse's place all rolled into one patriotic and debaucherous package on acid. We're talking people tripping, jumping up and down on one of those huge trampolines while holding Roman Candles, threatening to light themselves (and others) on fire. We're talking about people having crazy monkey (yet safe) sex on the ground, in the bushes and in the trees. We're talking about all the hamburgers, hot dogs and Coke one could ever hope to feast on. We're talking about enough liquor to get even the most seasoned alcoholic blitzed. We're talking shiny man-hair and red, white and blue cupcakes.

Where would all this take place, you ask? At Steve's place? At a rented house on the outskirts of San Francisco? Hell no! This would take place right next to the goddamn water! Just like the value and importance of a good party, Steve knows the importance of being on time. He knows that thousands gather to watch the fireworks display by the water and that if you don't get there early enough, your chance of getting a good spot is all but shot. So he stakes his claim the night before the celebration, at approximately 7p.m., sets up and camps out, so that when it comes time for the fireworks, he'll already be in a prime location. He won't have to worry about interrupting the party temporarily to travel to the fireworks; he and his party-goers will already be there and can continue to celebrate without any hiatus. And because Steve is such a good, down-to-earth, totally non-pretentious guy, his party is open to anybody and everybody. There are no lines. No admission fees. No special VIP treatment. Steve's motto is, "The more, the merrier," so anybody who is patriotic, likes to eat and drink and likes to cut loose and party, is welcome.

Happy Independence Day, Perryheads. May your celebrations be as patriotic and rockin' as Steve's. And if not, go to San Francisco.