Fire it up! Tempers were ablaze — and so was an abundant amount of marijuana — when the Family Values Tour rolled in to Cricket Arena last Tuesday. A total of five bands stomped, swaggered and strutted across the stage, giving the relatively small but enthusiastic crowd over four hours of loud (and mostly aggressive) rock music. Although one of the greener acts on the bill, Linkin Park, had a tremendous show of support from the mostly 18 to 24-year-old crowd, veteran rockers Staind and Stone Temple Pilots capped off the night. And no matter how vile I thought Staind’s hit single, “Outside” had become after hearing it nearly a trillion times on radio and MTV, there’s still something amazing about watching a song being performed live with thousands of rabid fans (holding their lighters high above their heads, no less) singing along word for word. The Pilots, however, ripped right through their hard rocking set while a few of us on the floor watched two fans try and rip through a t-shirt that had been tossed in to the crowd by one of the band members. Apparently this was no ordinary shirt — after a lengthy match of tug-o-war failed to divide the shirt, the torn-jean geniuses decided to set it on fire. . .but only after numerous attempts. Fortunately, just before Scott Weiland and company broke into their final song of the night, “Sex Type Thing,” the shirt ripped apart. Shortly thereafter, Weiland strategically ripped off his pants (yes ladies, he was butt-ass naked. . .literally!) and wrapped himself in an American flag. I never saw his pants leave the stage, but for some reason two women started a ruckus and exchanged blows as I exited from the floor. I guess not everyone in the crowd managed to catch a contact buzz from the heavy clouds of pot smoke that filled the joint for most of the night. — LF
Ella on wheels: The 100 Black Men of Charlotte, a business and civic-minded group of local black professionals, held a parade in uptown Charlotte on Saturday, which one could plainly hear from miles away. Featuring drum-and-step show troupes from all around the region, a local motorcycle club, and marching bands from Johnson C. Smith, West Charlotte and others, it was the funkiest — and funnest — parade uptown Charlotte’s seen in some time. Gone were stuffy floats with flower girls, replaced by young motorcyclists doing donuts on the street right in front of the assembled ranks of our city’s finest. Never one to miss an occasion for stumping, mayoral candidate Ella Scarborough was in attendance, dipping into her seemingly indefatigable well of smiles, hugs and handshakes (all on the hood of a moving car). While walking to the parade, I saw a man who lives in my building (with the ironic nickname “Speedy”) watching the parade with his usual attire of a Marcus Garvey-inspired black nationalist t-shirt, binoculars, and a chess set. The next day’s Observer ran a large photo of Ella on the hood of a big car with an identical chess set right beside her. Now, I can’t imagine Ella cruising down the street on the hood of a car with such a thing, unless she was pushing for that crucial chess-playing bloc of voters. Was this some kind of weird omen about the election? My mind reeled. Further evidence? Speedy’s shirt boasted the “The black woman is a queen (italics mine).” Could be the Tryon Street version of the burning bush. Checkmate for McCrory? — TCD
Free Ride Over 1,000 people showed up at Tremont Music Hall on Friday for a private party and concert with all-star rockers Smashmouth — the event was hosted by Budweiser, Dale Earnhardt, Jr and 106.5 WEND-FM. Apparently free must have been the key word for a lot of folks who made their way through the club for the first time ever. “Could you tell me where the bathrooms are. . .and the stage?” one chick asked shortly after entering. From what I could tell, there were mostly three types of people in attendance: those who knew somebody who got ’em a ticket, those who earned their tickets by doing something absolutely ridiculous like the one fella I met who sang “I’m A Little Teapot” in a local club, and busty chicks from The Men’s Club (lead singer Steve Harwell even noted all the dancers from the establishment he’d visited the previous night who were in attendance). Whatever the case, if they had come to see the band, who hauled in lots of their own audio and visual equipment, they probably weren’t too disappointed. If they’d come seeking cheap beer, they probably weren’t disappointed. But if they’d come to hang with Dale Jr, whose name appeared on the ticket and was also plugged in most of the ads, the closest they got was some dude sporting a Budweiser shirt and hat who must have been on the stage crew. Earnhardt was apparently busy at his day job (qualifying for Sunday’s NASCAR race in Rockingham). Hey, at least it was free. — LF
A voice in the wilderness: OK, it was a few voices. And it wasn’t quite the wilderness, but Marshall Park. The Mecklenburg County Democratic Party Equal Voices Rally was held from noon until 3pm on Saturday, featuring a slew of local candidates taking a few hours to meet potential voters. However, most of these voices fell on deaf ears, as there were but a few dozen citizens attending, most of whom were already tied to the party in one fashion or another (to be fair, there were some 30-odd ducks in attendance). Coach Joe White was there to deliver his game plan, as well as folks like City Council at-large candidate Laura Lewin, a pixie of a woman who looks way too nice to be involved in politics. Of course, there was also mayoral candidate and woman-about-town Ella Scarborough, seemingly omnipresent these days. A representative of the Stonewall Democrats, a local gay/lesbian/transgender group, was on hand, as well as a member of a local pro-choice advocacy group. Both pushed the Dems as a party of tolerance, something sorely needed in times such as these. The speaker (whose name I didn’t catch due to the shifting winds in the park) paralleled the attacks of September 11 with the 100-plus instances of white powder being delivered to abortion clinics all over the East Coast, all with the return address “State Department,” and compared the stateside mailings as being “our very own Taliban here in America.” Ironically, a convention of youth in town for a Jesus rally were also meeting in Marshall Park, though both groups were apparently oblivious to the others’ presence. I set off for the shrieking hubbub. The first words I heard were “God, I ask that you get rid of the false gods, and all the false religions that we allow here in America.” It took all the “tolerance” I could muster not to let fly with my own bird. — TCD
This article appears in Nov 10-16, 2001.
