Here’s a thing we made during the snow a couple weeks ago starring Lacy, Guido, Ace, Laura, Callia and myself.. and introducing “Bertha The Snow Girl.”

A little background..

On Tuesday, March 10th, “The Satirical Newspaper Of Vanderbilt University,” The Slant, published and distributed an issue of their paper made to look like the general student newspaper, The Vanderbilt Hustler. The headline: "GEE DEAD." The cover story proclaimed that the “Death of beloved Chancellor rocks VU.”

The paper was obviously a joke.. but it fooled a lot of people. The Hustler normally publishes on Tuesdays and Fridays.. but didn’t plan an issue for that day since the previous week was Spring Break. The Slant printed up their copies of “The Vanderbilt Huslter” and dropped them on the Hustler’s racks. Wackiness ensued.

Some tight asses on campus whined that it was “sick” and not funny at all. I thought it was fantastic.

Chancellor Gee sent out an email to the Vanderbilt community:

Dear Colleagues,

Imagine my surprise when
I picked up what was purported to be the Hustler, our excellent
student newspaper, and saw the headline “Gee Dead.” After checking
my pulse, and making sure that I did, indeed, fog up the mirror,
I am relieved to tell you that the headline, the newspaper, and
in fact, the entire issue, was untrue and not produced by the
real journalists at the Hustler. As in false. As in, “Gee Lives.”
To paraphrase the great Mark Twain, reports of my demise are greatly
exaggerated.

But, if you are the skeptical, conspiracy-minded type, I suggest
you check out: http://www.vanderbilt.edu/chancellor/

With all best wishes for many more years at Vanderbilt,

Gordon Gee

The image of the photo of the Chancellor holding the “GEE DEAD” newspaper as if it said “Dewey Defeats Truman” just wasn’t enough irony for me, so I went over to the Chancellor’s office during my lunch break.. and I killed him! (Ha ha! See, that’s a joke too. Not a very good one, but what did you expect? I’m not witty enough to smash watermellons.)

Today, a message on The Slant’s website says, “The Vanderbilt Student Communications Board is considering on Friday afternoon an application by an editor of the Hustler for the position of Editor in Chief of The Slant…. With full knowledge of how deeply sorry we are for the harm we caused, and the recognition that we have learned from this mistake, I am asking each of you to email the Board members and let them know that the student body of this University and the world abroad accepts our apology, wants The Slant to keep going as it was before this happened, and s the current leadership.”

This is a tragedy. Regular issues of The Hustler are humorless (and therefore worthless). While The Slant isn’t the most honorable, prestigious publication ever.. it IS funny.. and they have plugged www.ChadMRiden.com for free.. so I like them.

I sent The Vanderbilt Student Communications Board the following message:

Dear Vanderbilt Student Communications Board:

I’m writing to ask that you decide to keep Brad Ploeger as Editor in Chief of The Slant, and the current staff in place just as it has been. They’re just some kids trying to have some fun.. and they publish a great paper. They have apologized saying they are “deeply sorry.. for the harm we caused” and that they “have learned from this mistake.”

I realize that a lot of people are upset about the fake Hustler
edition.. but try to put emotion aside for a moment and think
about what really happened here: it was a joke. The bottom line
is that this was a masterfully planned, well executed, already
classic college prank. Was it in poor taste? Sure. Was it a risky
move? Yes. Should they be punished for this? I don’t know.. but
should they lose their paper? No.

That paper was glorious. It made me wish I had the imagination
and resources to do such a thing when I was in school. It made
me wish I was a part of their team.. It made me wish I had bought
ad space.

Chancellor Gee himself had a good sense of humor about it. The
picture of him holding the paper that he put on his web page was
not done in anger. Look at the man, he’s grinning like he can’t
control his excitement. His page generally gets about 50 or 60
hits a day, but that day there were 38,385 accesses to the Chancellor
home page. Even the Drudge Report linked to it.. why? Because
it is a great story.

It should have been obvious to everyone that it was a farce.
They spelled it “Huslter” in big bold type right there on the
front page and everywhere else it appeared. The by-line said it
was “the student crossword of Vanderbilt University..” Anybody
with the perception of a blind fish should have noticed that right
off the bat. The people mad about this are mad because they were
gullible enough to fall for it.

Vanderbilt’s image was probably improved by this event. The widespread
perception of stodgy snootiness was shaken up a bit. You may not
be able to keep the students from showing up at your football
games late, wearing shirts and ties like dorks.. you may never
live down the ties with the “Confederacy” or Commodore’s railroad
baron ways.. but at least don’t tell the world that the freedoms
of speech and of the press don’t exist at your institution.

–
Thanks for putting up with my crap,

Chad M. Riden,

Lame, Nashville-based jackass comedian and regular Vanderbilt
Slant reader

http://www.ChadMRiden.com/
http://www.MangyDog.com/
http://www.NashvilleStandup.com/

If you’d like to send a message of for The Slant, here.

I figure us smart asses have to stick together.. otherwise the
serious, responsible citizens will prevail.

It snowed seven inches in Nashville the other day. In many parts of the world this isn’t a big deal. In Tennessee, forecasts of light flurries are like air-raid sirens foretelling our unavoidable total annihilation.

Law abiding, civil citizens are reduced to chaotic maniacs without logic or the driving skills of a sixteen-year-old girl. Store shelves are emptied of all bread and milk as if this would be the last chance to go to a store until the tribulation is over. Schools close (Not the day before.. or early enough in the morning for parents to make plans.. no, no. That would make sense.) once the kids are all on campus. Therefore, business offices empty as mom and dad scramble to make arrangements. This means the roads are full of frantic parents terrified that their offspring will freeze to death if they don’t spin their tires in the snow as they fishtail their way thru the red light.

I’ve never seen driving quite like that which you find in the South when it has snowed. The majority of my youth was spent a few minutes west of Chicago in DuPage county. I wasn’t anywhere near old enough to drive when we moved, but I knew to shift into low gear; to drive slow and steady without spinning my tires; to turn the wheel and gun it when I want to turn; to counter-steer my way out of a skid; to park the car somewhere other than in the middle of the road facing the wrong direction.

While waiting about an hour for my chance to drive up an off ramp, a man actually walked down the line of cars telling people, “the Department Of Transportation guy says to try it one at a time.” Really? ‘Cause I thought maybe the best thing to do would be to pass these people waiting so I can floor it about a third of the way up the hill until I meet the car ahead. That way, I have to stop on an ice covered incline, slide to the bottom and start all over. Either that, or just sit there spinning my tires so people who know what they’re doing can’t make a run for it.

To me, the funniest sights on a snow day are the guys driving the classic big ass trucks. I’m not sure what it’s like in your town, but in Nashville we have many “cowboys” (most of whom have never, ever touched a cow) who drive monster pickups with giant lifts and enormous mud tires. Much like their SUV-driving soccer mom counterparts, their off-road vehicles never leave the pavement. I’ve seen trucks big enough to crush a hatchback spinning in circles and on their sides in ditches. How embarrassing it must be to walk home after such a disgraceful display of ineptitude. How do they face their friends and families? “Uh, you know that super-sized truck I overextended our budget for? Yeah. It snowed a few inches, and.. ehh.. I got it stuck.”

At least the kids here know what to do – sled.. make snowmen.. throw snowballs at cars. While they’re out having fun, where are their parents? Boarding up the windows.. cracking open the Y2K stockpiles.. loading up in their rear-wheel-drive piece of crap so they can slide around the road, blocking my way.

Some things never cease to amaze me.. most all of them involve stupid people. OK, I understand that it doesn’t snow here often. I realize that everybody doesn’t have much experience driving in the snow.. but common sense would tell you to either: A) practice driving in the snow in a safe parking lot, or B) stay the hell off the road. Every time it snows here it’s like it’s the first time ever.

Maybe I’m too harsh. Maybe I’m an impatient jerk. Or maybe it’s just that I’m just not a complete moron.

I arrived in Nashville on Sunday, July 23, 2000 with only a guitar on my back and a gleam in my eye. I got a gig singing Johnny Cash songs in one of the Honky-Tonks on Music Row – only to have my audience of four elderly women bash my face in with tire irons.

I had thought that above all else, what Music City needed was some sort of outlet for mediocre singer-songwriters. Apparently that niche had been filled. Crushed, I then decided to join a talented group of performers who really had something special going on. Once Metro shut down the smut industry, I finally turned my focus to comedy.

By then, several hours had passed and ole Chaddy was tired. All my “friends” in this town (well, I guess they’re more accurately described as “people who paid to have sex with me back during my darkest years” than as “friends”.. but in this nutty life, I just take the cards I’ve been dealt and play Circle Of Death yaknowhatimsayin?) were not answering their phones (damn the Caller ID!) so I thought I’d get a hotel room.

Being the nutty idiot that I am, I thought I’d get the dumpiest hovel I could find. I figured I’d get some funny stories out of the experience. Turns out it really wasn’t that funny. The only thing I “got” out of that experience is a bad rash and a phantom sore-butt that I can’t explain. The “Music City Motor Lodge” was so bad I wouldn’t take a hooker there. And the sheet of guidelines on the door clearly stated, “No prostitution.” So, you know, it was against the rules anyway.

I watched some tv and worked a little on my novel until I started getting tired… I went to the bathroom and realized just a little too late that my toilet didn’t flush. So I walked down to the office and talked to the attendant. It wasn’t the guy I rented the room from, it was an Indian lady. She marveled at the notion that my crapper didn’t flush, “just fill your bucket up with water from the tub and use that to flush it.” Of course! The bucket! What an idiot I am!

“Uh, I don’t have a bucket,” I mumbled – dumbfounded as possible. She gave me the ‘hold on just a minute’ index finger and disappeared into the back room. Thank Shiva-The-Many-Handed-One, she was going to get the manager, or perhaps the maintenance guy? Either way, help was coming. After a minute she came out a different door smiling ear-to-ear with a big 5-gallon bucket in her hand. I was too tired to fight. I just said thanks and headed back to my syphilis pit.

I opened the shower curtain to fill the bucket up in the tub. There was a hole in the shower wall! Tiles were missing, and I could see the 2×4 studs since the hole in the drywall was about three feet in diameter. I didn’t see any wiring, but I think I saw something scurry away. For my own sanity, I decided that I just saw a squirrel instead of one of it’s hideous cousins. I filled the bucket and used it to flush the toilet.

By now, I was well past being ready for bed. I peeled the covers down to reveal stained sheets with holes in them. I decided to try the other bed.. this one was in the same condition, but had the bonus used condom wrapper laying next to the pillow. “Nice,” I thought.

I went out to my car and settled down for long-deserved rest. As I drifted off to sleep, I saw several “ladies of the night” come and go from a few of the rooms. Apparently somebody didn’t see the rules on their door.

All in all, it was a great time. Over two years later I can honestly say that the charm of Music City still hasn’t worn off.. it’s still just as magical as ever.

A couple years ago I wrote a bit that began with jokes about Nashville’s Nascar Cafe shutting down. With a paper thin segue flimsily in place, I suggested that it was just a matter of time until the Baptists opened their own theme restaurant. “This IS the Bible Belt.. they control everything else in town. Why not?” Well, my friends, it may not be the Baptists specifically, but today’s Tennessean reports that soon there will be a Christian-themed restaurant in downtown Nashville where Planet Hollywood used to be.

This is a fantastic idea. Not only does this mean they’ll remove that ridiculous Planet Hollywood crap from Broadway, but now I can rehash my old material and it will seem timely and fresh. Thanks, God, you’re the greatest!

“They’ll probably call it something stupid like.. The Last Supper. It’ll be the only pot-luck restaurant in town. I can just imagine the menu. I can’t wait to get a Moses burger on unleavened wheat. They’ll have all the biblical favorites: fishes, loaves, wine.. but the wine will taste suspiciously watered down. (Ahh! Miracle wine!) You can’t say anything, though.. it’s Christ’s place.. you can’t bust on Jesus! In most restaurants, the customer is always right. Not in the Christian Cafe.. here, you’re WRONG.. you’ve ALWAYS BEEN WRONG and if you don’t change your ways (and leave a good tip) you’ll burn in Hell FOREVER!”

For my dear sweet mother’s sake, let me say that I’m not anti-Christian. I don’t hate Jesus.. but I don’t trust organized religions. There’s a big difference in what God says and what men say God said when they didn’t actually hear it themselves.. but instead heard it thru a game of “Telephone” that has lasted about 2000 years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to mock other people’s beliefs.. oh, wait.. yes, I am.

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ll trust the visions of a native American smoking a peace pipe before I’d listen to a Latin-speaking pedophile. You lost me somewhere between the Crusades, Inquisitions, the selling of indulgences and the ex-communication of people who first thought that the world was round and revolved around the sun. If you want to hear the Catholics try to bullshit their way into heaven, see the Columbia University Augustine Club’s Catholic Church FAQ – it’s great for a laugh. Ahh, but once again I’ve digressed.

Back home in Nashville, a group of investors reportedly paid over $7 million for the old Planet Hollywood facility. Wes Lamoureux, one of the real estate developers who invested in the restaurant, says “we’re going to be aiming at the college crowd.” The Tennessean article reports that the new eatery won’t serve alcohol or allow smoking (and as we all know, college kids HATE drinking and smoking). Mr. Lamoureux explains, “our motive isn’t profit.” Well, Wes, if not turning a profit is your goal, I think your business plan is perfect!

It’s just another fun chapter in the saga of the vacant buildings in downtown Nashville. Last Monday we did a comedy show at Seanachie Irish Pub across the street on 4th and Broadway. This show was so incredibly good, the owners of Seanachie’s had no idea how to follow it. We blew the roof off the joint so hard, legally they could never sell another alcoholic beverage in that space again. The surrounding businesses were jealous of that night’s success and had Seanachie’s business license revoked. The next day, Seanachie closed it’s doors forever.

I don’t know if there is a lesson to be learned, but if you have a struggling business and need somebody to put it out of it’s misery, consider booking a night of comedy. We need the stage time. Plus, once you’re closed down you can use the time to reinvent your club and come up with an entirely new doomed concept.

It’s actually a comfort to me to see businesses closing their doors downtown. I moved to Nashville from the orange and white city of Knoxville, so when I see a desolate, empty downtown it makes me feel at home. Keep it up, Nashville! We’ll turn this rugged state into a giant HoboTown housing project before you can say “lack of public !”

“Support local comedy!” This is our mantra – we repeat it every Tuesday night at The Cantina.. we used to say this every Tuesday night at Zanies.. but we’re preaching to the choir. The people there are supporting local comedy.. and that’s great. I appreciate everybody’s time, attention, and money. Today, I’d like to expand the decree to be a little more inclusive: “Support what you enjoy!”

Go out and bands, artists, restaurants, bars, clubs, theaters.. whatever / whoever / wherever it is – if you like it, get out there and give them your money and physical presence. Not just local events, but nationally touring ones too. If we don’t, the things we love will slowly disappear and years from now we’ll wonder, “what ever happened to ______?”

I’m not saying go out just for the sake of going out and blowing your money.. be choosy. Don’t waste your time on crap. Sure, you have to blindly some things you don’t like… Mom makes “artwork” with body parts dipped in paint? The kid plays second string on some inter-mural team? The boyfriend performs with some awful band? Yup, you’ve gotta go. That’s not the kind of I’m talking about.

There are better reasons to get out. When you go enjoy an evening on the town, you never know what’s going to happen. I’ve been rewarded for my opitulation in so many ways, I couldn’t come close to listing them all.. but I can tell you one story that illustrates my point.

My good friend Graham Spice has a funky band called The Guy Smiley Blues Exchange.. they are constantly on the road touring – spreading The Funk – and if you don’t go see them live every chance you get you’re crazy. I went to see them a few months ago at the Liquid Lounge in Nashville. They were the opening act for PM Dawn and digital underground for an outdoor show.

The weather was threatening rain early in the evening, and not many people showed up in time to see the GSBE. I was there, though, and the boys had a great set and ripped it up as always. They played some original tunes and some covers – all of it sounded fantastic (Buy their new live album right now!) When they were done, they had to pack up quick and hit the road for another gig (that same night) several hours away in another state.

As they were rolling out of the parking lot, my buddy Graham thanked me for coming out, shook my hand and left me standing there with an all-access “staff” pass in my hand. “You gotta get pictures with The Nose,” he said. Yes, indeed I did. Humpty Hump was going to be there in just a few hours and, by God, it was my chance to ‘do the Hump.’

If you don’t know, d.u. is an Oakland-based rap group from back in the day when rap was rap (and not crap). You may remember the big hits off their Sex Packets album (definitely one of the greatest albums of all-time): “The Humpty Dance,” “Do Whatcha Like,” “The Way We Swing,” and “Freaks Of The Industry.” Or maybe you know them as the group that introduced the world to Tupoc Shakur.. regardless, you should fire up whatever you use to steal music and download all the tracks you can find.

I stayed low-key for a while. I put the pass in my pocket and played the role of “nice, money-spending, sheep / patron.” I’m not a fan of PM Dawn, but who cares.. digital underground was on the way!

Pressed up against the stage, I tolerated the Liquid Lounge idiot / staffer who had a water gun loaded with cheap beer.. I persevered as the crowd pushed forward.. I endured as really hot girls pressed up against me.. oh, the struggle that is my life.

It wasn’t too long before the boys came busting out onto the stage spraying champagne all over the crowd and smoking blunts. Yes, they were passing around a nice fat bone and boy did it smell good. It went back and forth across the stage a few times, then Money B handed the giant doob to me, motioning to pass it around. Puff, puff, pass, pass.. I forked it over to the hottie next to me.. she gave it to another dame.. then the Liquid Lounge idiot / staffer bogarted it and horked it down to half the size it was before. With an annoyed look on his face, Shock G took the blunt back and passed it around the stage again.

They went thru most of the classic underground songs.. I was really glad to hear one of my favorites, “Same Song,” from This Is An E.P. Release. A take-off of George Clinton’s chant, “All around the world for the funk,” the refrain is “All around the world, it’s the same song.” The beat gets you movin’ on it’s own, but it’s backed up with fat keyboards from “The Piano Man” himself and decked off with the “lyrical miracle” one associates with the sound of the underground.

One great thing about this song is the verse from Tupoc, who (God rest his soul) has gone on to that great golden Cadillac in the sky. In his absence, they asked the crowd to sing his part:

“Now I clown around when I hang around with the underground..
Girls used to frown / say ‘down’ when I come around.
Gas me, they used to pass me, they used to dis me,
harass me, but now they ask me if they can kiss me.
Get some fame, people change – wanna live their life high.
Same Song can’t go wrong if I play the nice guy.
(Did’jer claim to fame change now that we became strong?)
I remain still the same.
(why Tupe?)
’cause it’s the Same Song.”

The show came to an end with “The Humpty Dance.” They walked off the stage, over into the “staff / performers only” backstage area. I donned my pass and walked right in as if I’d been doing that all night. For a while I was standing in a circle with the PM Dawn kids and a couple of digital underground’ers.. talking about how great the crowd was, how musical Nashville is. My profound insight: “It’s much deeper than just country.” Shock G nods agreement, “Yeah, when I got em doing the ‘errrrr-reeeee, errrrr-reeeee’ bass part.. they hung with me no matter how far I took it. They were right there!”

Money B was busy hooking it up with a hottie, but took the time to take a picture with me. A lady came up to Shock G and handed him a doobie. He thanked her and gave her his Humpty nose & glasses, saying it’s the only one he had with him but she deserved it. Wow. I asked him to take a picture with me and he obliged. I thanked him for coming to Nashville, and told him to have fun while he’s here. “I already have,” he says.

It was a great time. I would have enjoyed the show even if I wasn’t able to get backstage.. but because I came out and ed the Guy Smiley Blues Exchange, I was rewarded with an experience most people will never know.

So, next time your friend says, “hey come see me perform!” Don’t blow him off. Don’t assure him that “someday” you’ll come out to see him. Make the time to get out and give it up. If it sucks, let him know. If it rocks, come back again and bring more people. If we don’t do this now, someday when we finally do show up, the show could be cancelled for lack of .. or your friend may have already become discouraged and quit.. and really crappy acts with will be all that remains.

Support my homies:
Shock G
The Guy Smiley Blues Exchange
NashvilleStandUp.com