Recently in Bar Mitzvah Tour 2006 Category

(Read Part 1 Part 2)

G-Duck's nephew had a bar mitzvah. The bar mitzvah had a reception. The reception had a great band. Nathan and I, we had a danceoff. Some might argue that it was more of a duet than a battle of the bands, more of a partnership than a rivalry, but I'll let you look at the photos and judge for yourself.






(Read Part 1)

Saturday night, our traveling party went from four to three, as my man G-Duck was obligated to attend Friday evening religious services. Suddenly, the boys club was no more. I had to stop spitting, cussing, fighting and fussing, for the ladies had the majority in the car. How would the new dynamic work, we all wondered.

A test came as we were discussing the previous night's karaoke outing. A girl at the bar did a phenomenally awful rendition of Weezer's "Beverly Hills". First of all, that song is not difficult; it's all talk-singing, Rex Harrison by way of Rivers Cuomo. You should be able to karaoke-talk your way though "Beverly Hills".

Performance issues aside, the song choice seemed questionable. Can you sing a song about Beverly Hills in a karaoke bar in Century City? Beverly Hills is only a few miles away. It reminded me of wearing a band's t-shirt to their concert. If she wasn't repping her hometown, then the ambition it represents is far too minor. "That's where I want to be" = One town over. I couldn't see myself ever singing an anthem about Danville or Blackhawk, let alone Millbrae. She could ahve at least sung "Santa Monica", or that other Everclear song about having a black girlfriend.

Those might be the same song., I dunno.

Regardless of Karaoke Girl's questionable choices, I found her strangely endearing. I told Louise, "I think it's because she had such great boots."

Louise, perhaps expecting my conversation to become more boorish and sexualized without the check of an older alpha male figure in the car, thought I was about to say I liked Karaoke Girl's boobs. Instead, with the addition of one extra letter, "boots" instead of "boobs", my comment went from being the crassest heterosexual comment possible to the gayest comment possible.

Louise and Kir relaxed. We continued driving through West Hollywood, in search of a store that had an inexpensive pair of black heels and just the right shade of MAC foundation makeup, and right then, everything felt perfect.

As we left the LAX Hilton, on our way to Century City for dinner, I experienced an odd sense of familiarity. I hadn't been to Los Angeles in years, aside from driving through, en route to San Diego. Still, the false sense of recognition was quite strong, because the prominence of Los Angeles in pop culture, and specifically because I have seen Troop Beverly Hills fifteen times. Those Culver City Red Feathers are so darn smug!

Due to poor directions and poorer navigation skills, we made it all the way to Watts before heading north. At the same time we turned onto the 110, Dre and 2Pac's "California Love" came up on our mix CD. It got me thinking: Where would the rap world be if Compton was not actually a city, but rather an unincorporated territory?

Fuck Tha LA County Sheriff's Department, N.W.A.

Ice Cube will swarm
On any muthafucka in a blue uniform
Just cuz I'm from an unincorporated territory
Municipal government ain't got jurisdiction over me

Nothin But A G Thang, Dr. Dre & Snoop Dogg

So Dre
(What up, Dogg?)
Gotta give 'em what they want
(What's that, G?)
We gotta break em off somethin'
(Hell yeah!)
Like services equivalent to those provided by an incorporated municipality
(Minor Civil Division of Compton!)

California Love, 2Pac & Dr. Dre

In the citaaay of L.A.
In the citaaay of good ol' Watts
In the census-designated plaaaace, the census-designated plaaaace of Compton
We keep it rockin
We keep it rockin

Inglewood, Inglewood always up to no good
Don't try to annex this shit, muthafucuka

UPDATE: Louise has an excellent recap of the trip up, along with an extremely handsome photo from Stars Hollow.

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