SlamCharlotte No. 1 in the country

I’m in Dallas stuck on yet another hot American airplane waiting for a mechanic to check out a fuel problem. I’m heading back to Charlotte from Las Vegas. This is the third time in two trips that I’ve been on an American plane that’s had mechanical issues.

Evil is an understatement.
Plus, the two women next to me won’t stop talking. But before I completely tune them out, I hear one say she attended the National Poetry Slam competition in Austin. She says our city's representative, SlamCharlotte, kicked booty.

Winning the championship has been four years in the making for a team that started with Terry Creech’s vision and blossomed under Slam master Bluz. Each year, they’ve placed in the Top 10. (Since Creech launched the slam team, locals like Bluz and JC the Poet have developed a strong scene with poetry at Wine Up, Spirit Square and at one point the Jazz Cafe.)

This year, Charlotte sent SlamCharlotte and Respect the Mike, which included Maze, Q and Filmore. SlamCharlotte’s winning team consisted of Charlotte’s Bluz, Carlos Robeson and Mike Simms, along with Beth Sheba from Atlanta and Paul D of Albany, Ga. (who replaced an ill Da’ Minister of Columbia, S.C.).

“After going through so many years of being so close, (it's sweet) to finally actually get it, and know that you really fought hard and really earned it,” Bluz said.

Now that Charlotte has a championship, Bluz said the team’s next goal is to win again - of course - and introduce more people to slam poetry. You can hear them on Power 98 at 8:50 a.m. on Friday, or see them perform at Wine Up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (The Wine Up crowd is late, so don’t arrive before 9 p.m.; you might even be safe getting there after 11). The next SlamCharlotte event is at 7 p.m. on Aug. 24 at McGlohon Theatre in Spirit Square.

Partying, working and camping

I’ve spent the past 10 days camping, partying and working in the Southwest. My trip started with camping for two days in the Grand Canyon’s north rim and two days near Lake Powell in Page, Arizona. I finished with four days in Las Vegas for the National Association of Black Journalists convention.

In these next few blogs, you’ll get to share a little of my vacation and get my tips in case you ever head this way. Tip No. 1: Don’t fly American. They’re the worst.

Partying in Rum Jungle

One of my goals in Las Vegas was to see as many spots as I could. After all, Las Vegas's Peppermill Lounge was James Funderburk’s inspiration for the fire pits at Tonic. And Sin City's Ice, now closed, was an inspiration for the Forum.

When we arrived at the door of Rum Jungle in the Palm hotel, the line wasn't short. But Creative Loafing's Carlton Hargro paid the door lady $40 bucks to let us in through the VIP line.

Rum Jungle is an uber-club.
It’s spacious and open, so you can see and be seen. When you walk inside, water glides down the front wall. Sofas and ottomans line the front section, and were perfect for escaping the crowded bar and dance floor.

A long bar split the club into two sections. On each side of the bar were sofas and booths, which seemed like VIP areas. Many partiers had bottles of champagne or liquor at their tables. Four cages containing go-go dancers hung from the ceiling. Another dancer worked the catwalk above the bar. To get to the dance floor, you had to walk past the bar and up a few stairs. Two smaller waterfall walls separated the dance floor from the other sections. Two guys played drums and percussion along with the music that the DJ spun.

The National Association of Black Journalists' task force rented Rum Jungle for Thursday’s party, so the vibe was extra-hype. In Charlotte, we have a healthy black professional party scene, but the NABJ convention draws journalists from cities that don’t. So on Thursday, hundreds of black journalists eagerly took over Rum Jungle.

My only complaint was the DJ. He played enough of a song to let you say, “That’s my s…” But then he'd prematurely start up another song. Annoying. He had deep stacks, and played everything from Luther Vandross to Stevie Wonder to DJ Unk -- but partiers didn’t get to truly enjoy his collection.

Shrimp scampi and bellydancing

When we arrived at Marrakech restaurant on Thursday night, our waiter gave each of us hand towels instead of napkins. He placed a large bowl in the center of the table. We held our hands over the bowl as he poured warm water over them.

I'd never been to restaurant so concerned about the cleanliness of their patrons’ hands. When the waiter brought our platter of shrimp scampi, the first of six courses, I understood why. He explained that we should eat the shrimp with our fingers and use the bread to soak up the butter sauce.

We dove in. The shrimp was so good, but we didn’t want to stuff ourselves with the bread. But I swear, if I had a straw I would have slurped up the butter sauce.

By the time the belly dancer jiggled from behind a curtains into the restaurant, we were on our fourth course.
When my new friend Robert first pitched the idea of going to a belly-dancing restaurant for dinner, I drooled over the idea of watching such a beautiful art form while eating. But after putting down the tasty shrimp scampi, a Moroccan salad - marinated vegetables dipped in the best hummus I’ve had ever - and lentil soup, I’d forgotten about the dancer.

The food was so good that I ran out of buttons to unbutton on my pants, but Robert’s friend Charmagne still had enough energy to shake a lil’ sumthin’-sumthin’ with the dancer. The belly dancer worked her away around the restaurant, which had about 20 customers. She smiled, winked and cajoled a stunned crowd into applauding after she did the most hypnotic hip-shimmy move. She moved so fast, yet the movement seemed subtle.

We finished our meal with well-seasoned and tender beef kabobs (tasted as good as the buffalo, and was cheaper), followed by Cornish hen and couscous (we did get a fork for the hen and dessert). We shared dessert, a pastry the size of a dinner plate that reminded me of baklava. We each also received a warm cup of mint tea.

If you go to Marrakech, slightly off The Strip, bring your appetite. Each night’s menu is set, so if you’re a picky eater this isn’t the place for you. It costs $37.

A conga line in a German restaurant

When my friends and I walked inside the cavernous Hofbrauhaus restaurant, we heard a band rocking a German song. As we sat down, members of the Rothseepower German band - many of the guys didn’t speak English - raised liter-sized mugs in the air and yelled “Ein Prosit!”

We looked around wondering what the bleep was going on.
After one bock beer and an order of brats and pretzels, I had my mug in the air yelling “Ein Prosit, oi, oi!” with everyone else. Before the night was over, a German tourist would chug a beer on stage, a conga line would snake through the restaurant, a couple of girls would join the band on stage, and we all would dance to Rothseepower singing “Proud Mary” - at our table’s request.

It was Wednesday, and my first night in Las Vegas after camping for four days. It only got better.

Buffalo meat and weak beer

If you ever go to Kanab, Utah, try the buffalo at the Rocking V Cafe on West Center Street. It’s a restaurant downstairs, and the Rafters Gallery is upstairs. I ended up joining two women -- one from New Jersey and the other (her cousin) from Florida -- who were sharing a bottle of wine and a meal.

I stopped in Kanab to get one good night’s sleep in a hotel before four nights of tent camping at the Grand Canyon’s north rim and near Lake Powell in Page, Arizona. The cousins were there because each year they bring their daughters to volunteer at the Best Friends sanctuary, an animal rescue facility. Along with walking and feeding all types of animals, the women and their kids take road trips throughout the area. They loved Zion National Park, but said the actual Salt Lake was a dried-up, fly-infested disappointment.

One of these road trips ended with the women sharing a bottle of wine at Rocking V Cafe instead of sipping ice-cold brews. While cruising through small towns and national parks, the two knocked back three Coronas and didn’t feel a thing (not something I recommend, but I’m just telling you the story).

At Rocking V, Victor Cooper, the owner’s husband, explained to my dinner partners that in Utah, the alcohol content in beer is so low it’s like drinking O’Doul’s.

Cooper, an affable guy who chatted up new and regular customers about the food and their visit to Kanab, convinced us to try the buffalo tenderloin.

I’d never eaten buffalo before. It was tender and more robust than filet mignon, but it wasn’t worth $36. Rocking V -- which reminded me of 300 East -- seemed to be the most expensive restaurant in Kanab. Most of the other places were diners or cheap Mexican and Italian restaurants.

I followed dinner with the bread pudding. Not good. To sum up: Try the buffalo; avoid the bread pudding; stick with wine; and watch out for the two crazy cousins who make Thelma and Louise look tame.

Partying at Tangerine

When we walked inside of Treasure Island hotel, a man handed us free passes to Tangerine nightclub. The line for the club stretched back into the casino area on Friday.

We hopped into the VIP line. I showed the guy my ID and he asked for my VIP card. I gave him a $20. He let us in. (I learn fast. Sookie sookie, now!)

Tangerine was a mixed bag.
The crowded dance floor dominated the club. There’s a drum kit above the bar, but no one played while we were there. Every now and then, women danced on the bar. Women also danced on platforms in the two large VIP lounge areas. Tangerine had my favorite DJ of the weekend. He knew how to mix, and spun Top 40, smatterings of rock, classic hip-hop, and hip-hop songs I’d never heard before - a rarity in today’s club scene.

But Tangerine is wannabe posh. It had the look, but the floor was sticky as heck and the people were kind of scraggly-looking.

Not craving Krave

The DJ was killing me.
During Girl Bar, a weekly lesbian party held in a section of Krave dance club (kind of like the Forum’s Pravda lounge), the DJ played “Survivor,” Janet Jackson's “All for You,” Nelly’s “Hot in Herre,” and a bunch of other dusty hits over the course of at least an hour.

I finally asked if she had any contemporary music. She looked offended. Whatever.
I told her everything she was playing was at least two or three years old. She said people had been telling her that all night. Um, hello. Change your music then. She didn’t.

Her whack skills put a damper on an already weak party.
Still, the spot was cute, especially compared to the places where most lesbian parties take place. In Charlotte, we’re lucky to have the parties at Wine Up, but the other spots are booty.

Despite the bad deejaying, most of the 50-75 women in attendance got their $15 worth and danced. The partiers were a mix of locals and tourists of all ages and ethnicities. One group of women paraded around as if they were the cutest women in the spot. (They weren’t that cute, but the pickings were slim.)

Two go-go dancers worked the stage. One tried to undulate on a pole that was so rickety it looked as if it would fall over if she held it too tightly.

By the way, there are also weekly Girl Bar parties in Los Angeles, Chicago and Palm Springs. (I hope those are better than the one in Vegas.)

Lessons from camping and Las Vegas

1) Take dry ice. It lasts way longer than regular ice. The secret is to put it in a plastic bag on the bottom of your cooler, line the dry ice with regular ice, then pile your stuff on top. On a related note, if you have a choice between block and chipped ice, block lasts longer.

2) Don’t ever rent a PT Cruiser. It has to be the most underpowered car on the face of this Earth. The rental guy at Payless tried to warn me, but I’m cheap, and I figured he was trying to sell me on a pricier upgrade.

3) If you’re planning to camp somewhere new, research whether there are any state or national parks nearby. When I went to Lake Powell, I stayed at an RV campground. I basically had a big patch of hot sand in the middle of a concrete parking lot. The water in the indoor pool was greener than Kermit. (I swam anyway -- I'm preparing for a triathlon sprint.) However, 10 minutes away was Lake Powell in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. You literally can camp on Lone Rock Beach at the lake. I chilled there for the day. Best part was laying out on the beach. Worse part was the guy next to me blasting heavy metal from his Honda Accord. Ignorant.

4) Don’t try to drive a PT Cruiser in soft sand. I got stuck twice. The first time, a couple pushed me out. The second time, a nice guy from Utah pulled me out with his gigantic pickup.

5) It is not cheap to party in Las Vegas. You can’t take a cab ride anywhere for less than $10, including the tip. Most places charged a $15-$20 cover. And one beer cost $9. Criminal.

6) Don’t eat at the Sidewalk Café in Bally’s in Las Vegas. The food is average and the service is horrible.
7) If you have a large group in Las Vegas, the buffets are a good way to eat. They have food stations with cooks who make soups, steaks and omelets to order.

Talib show cancelled

In an email, promoter Mike Kitchen announced that Wednesday's Talib Kweli show at the Neighborhood Theatre has been cancelled, but will be rescheduled.

Beyonce did the darn thang!

An all-female band, thick sisters as background singers and a non-stumbling Beyonce filling the stage.
That was the scene on Sunday at Bobcats Arena as thousands of folks screamed and danced during a nearly two-hour performance that was part girl-power, self-love and romantic-love.

I wasn’t sure how much of Beyonce's hip-shaking I could take, but she balanced her signature moves with routines by dancers and solos by band members. I can’t stop raving about the all-female band, made up mostly of women of color. It sent such a strong message to the thousands of young girls in the audience.

Beyonce gave plenty of space during, before and after songs for each member to shine.
The best was the blond-dredlocked bassist who played OutKast’s “So Fresh, So Clean,” the hook to “Get Money,” and other fan favorites. She finished her solo by playing the bass behind her head and giving it a long lick.

During the nearly two-hour set, Beyonce played every hit from her albums, as well as Destiny’s Child favorites and songs from the “Dreamgirls” soundtrack. The best were “Get Me Bodied,” “Irreplaceable” (which she dedicated to men and women who’ve been hurt in relationships), and “Dangerously in Love” (which she blended with Jill Scott’s “You Love Me”).

Her cheesiest moment of the night was crying at the end of “That’s Why I Love You.” She cried after singing the song in ATL as well, so you know she's just putting her acting skills to use.

Her best moment of the night was when she wiped her face with a towel she then gave to a guy wearing a white golf shirt. She told him that he was her biggest fan, and she’d watched him sing all the songs and do all of the choreography to the dances. She made sure security handed the young man the towel. The gesture said a lot about how she cares about her fans, and how she paid attention to her audience. Nice.

I’m not a huge fan of Robin Thicke, who opened with a respectable 30-plus-minute opening set, in which he played piano during some songs. He’s cute as all get out and I love “Lost Without U,” but the blue-eyed soul singer has little singing ability.

Did you go to the concert? What did you think? Post your replies below.

Did Menage shoot itself in the foot?

In my New Year’s prediction last year, I said Menage would be the place to watch because it had changed so much since opening in 2004.

In 2006, it went from being a premier nightspot to adding a restaurant on the second floor – weird – to allowing black promoters to book prime weekend nights (often a sign of money problems).

The reported sale of Menage is dramatic considering the hype surrounding the club’s opening. Before The Forum opened, Menage was the hotness, with three levels, posh lounge areas and a giant slide.

But drama also surrounded Menage from the git-go.
Not long after opening, there was a flap between owner Stefan Latorre and well-known local DJ Niz -- Niz said he wasn't compensated for being a consultant for Menage, while Latorre said Niz never worked for the club. Niz's backers began an e-mail campaign urging people not to go there; the note also alleged that Latorre snubbed two owners of the trendsetting Cosmos Cafe who had stopped by Menage's grand opening to congratulate him.

In the spring of 2005, the club came under fire when it stopped playing hip-hop on Fridays, a night which had been drawing a predominately black crowd.

Then later that year came the biggest of the controversies: A promoter accused the club of racial bias after the cancellation of a party that drew mostly blacks. The Charlotte-Mecklenburg Community Relations Committee cleared the club of any wrongdoing.

Not long after that PR fiasco, Latorre denied rumors that he was trying to sell the club and he turned the second floor into the restaurant Belle’s BBQ.

He also began reaching out more to black promoters. In recent months, Adolph R. Shiver had begun hosting parties there featuring various rap artists. This is significant because historically, many white Charlotte club owners have allowed black promoters to host parties at their venues to raise cash; it happened at Time (which is now closed), Liquid Lounge, and Crush, which is now a mostly hip-hop club. (Insiders tell me the reason that financially strapped clubs do this is because blacks, especially young ones, spend loads of money at bars.)

The fall of Menage is unfortunate. Had it been able to thrive alongside The Forum, it would have made Charlotte an even bigger regional draw and strengthened our nightlife overall. It’s hard for a city with only one upscale dance club to be a real nightlife destination.
Latorre hasn't responded to an e-mail request confirming the sale of the club and on his decision to sell the venue.)

Do you think all of the negative incidents killed Menage, or is Charlotte not big enough for two huge dance clubs? Post your replies below.

Menage sold - surprise, surprise

Menage’s tumultuous ride as a premiere nightclub has ended. James Funderburk, who co-founded Tonic lounge, issued a press release today saying he and several partners have purchased Menage and Belle’s BBQ from Stefan Latorre. (Latorre has not responded to an e-mail request confirming the sale.)

Funderburk and his partners, who include Tonic’s Andre Araiz, won’t release any details about what they plan to do with the space. Their goal is to quench partiers' thirst for Tonic, a cool lounge at Fourth Street and Independence Boulevard that closed in 2005 because of construction near Central Piedmont Community College.

In an e-mail, Funderburk said “We envision a place that will become part of the fabric of Charlotte uptown culture, not just for nightlife, but for all times. A place to eat, a place to relax, a place to party, a place for people who love people.”

Although Funderburk and Araiz want to appeal to fans of Tonic, Funderburk said he won’t try to re-create Tonic.
“It existed in a certain time and place that could never be re-created. What we strive for now is a new dream that we know our friends and supporters will love.”

Thank goodness. Every new lounge owner says he wants to re-create Tonic’s vibe, but none have. What would you like to see Funderburk and his partners do with Menage? Post your replies below.

New hangout on Central Avenue

Nearly a decade ago, the Avramovic brothers -- Branko and Djordje (pronounced Georgie) -- started as busboys and barbacks at Cosmos Cafe. After working their way up to become servers and bartenders, the two realized a lifelong dream on Wednesday when they officially opened their own restaurant: Intermezzo at Central and Louise.

The restaurant has the potential to expand Plaza-Midwood offerings beyond Pecan Street. It’s a tiny spot across from the Salvation Army that features a mix of American and Yugoslavian food, including many family recipes. For example, their burger is made of beef and lamb and called pleskavica.

At a friends and family party on Sunday, I liked what I saw.
The brothers are humble and gracious, the food - pizza, along with lamb, chicken and beef kabobs - was yummy-yummy to my tummy. The draft beer selection is sweet. They have Duck Rabbit on tap.

Interior designer Boris Tomic, who worked on Cosmos and the Forum, created a warm, industrial look with exposed brick and beams. The place only seats 50 people, but the Avramovic brothers plan to expand as business grows. They will have a DJ spinning downtempo house on some Fridays and Saturdays, and every Sunday.

DJ Jazzy who?

One show that was unquestionably worth attending was the DJ Jazzy Jeff set at Amos’ last Saturday. Promoter Mike Kitchen has been trying to get Jazzy Jeff here for years, and he finally landed him.

As I’ve written before, I only knew him as rapper-actor Will Smith’s sidekick, but now I know what I’ve been missing. At Amos’, Jazzy Jeff spun classic hip-hop for about two hours. He gave fans songs that only true hip-hop heads knew, as well as a healthy dose of faves with his West Coast, East Coast and rock sets.

Several hundred people grooved to Jazzy Jeff’s tunes while MC Mad Skillz worked the mike. Jazzy Jeff did a smidgen of impressive scratching, but he mostly spun cuts folks wanted to hear. Songs ranged from Dr. Dre’s “Nuthin’ But A G Thang” to Common’s “The Light” to Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

Although plenty of people danced at Amos’ during the show, Jazzy Jeff would be an even better fit deejaying at a dance club or party. I hope he returns for the CIAA basketball tournament next year, because that would be a party not to miss.

DMX crazy as ever

I was out of town on Wednesday, and it sounds like I missed a crazy night. Josh Groban cancelled at the last minute because of laryngitis (read Courtney Devores' interview with him in the A-List on Page 2A of Tuesday's Observer.)

My buddy Larken said he loved DMX’s performance, but that opener Bazaar Royale was horrible. I, however, also heard from reliable sources that DMX’s antics at Amos’ Southend may have been more ridiculous than Meshell Ndegeocello's. I have a feeling he won’t be playing at Amos’ again.

Here are a few e-mails the Observer received about the DMX show.

From Ray Anderson:
He got on stage around 12:40. I had to wait around in order to review it (I write for charlottevibe.com). All I kept thinking was “I’m missing ‘King of the Hill’ for this?”
He played/prayed until 2 a.m. and did A LOT of preaching between songs. I kept thinking to myself, "Well, it is Wednesday night" (the night normally associated with bible study).
Maybe Josh Groban cancelled because he wanted to go to the DMX concert.

From Leah Day:
When we first arrived and got in line to give our tickets, we noticed on the counter there was a notice that said DMX would start at 11:30 p.m. and that the bar was not responsible for his punctuality. Our tickets said 8 p.m. Seeing that, we decided to go take advantage of Therapy’s half-price martini night until 11:15 p.m. in case it started at 11:30.
The concert was excellent, and lasted a decent amount of time. I was all the way up front and really enjoyed the performance. My friend caught the T-shirt he threw out. Overall, I think it was worth the wait and my friends and I all said we would go again if he came to town.

From Heather Blake:
Had a great time! Yes, he came on stage a little late -- around 12:30 a.m. -- but he’s rather notorious for doing so. Amos’ had several signs posted at the door that the Bazaar Royale started at 10:30 p.m. and DMX at 11:30 p.m.; however, right below they also clearly stated that they were not responsible for the artists’ punctuality.
Do I wish they had been a little more clear about what time the show started? Of course. But it’s a concert -- relax, and just have a good time. I’m most definitely not a rap fan usually, but he was worth the wait.

A really angry lady:
Doors opened at 8 p.m. and DMX was supposed to be there from 9:30 p.m.-10:30 p.m., so we got there around 8 p.m. and waited while some DJ played.
Waited...waited...waited...and about 10:30 p.m., we got angry.
So about 11 p.m., I went up to the lady at the front and asked if DMX was even going to perform. She said, "He’ll be on at 11:30 p.m." About 11:25 p.m. his cover band played for about half an hour. About 12:30 a.m., I wanted to go home, so we went up to the lady at the front and demanded our money back.
We didn't get it, but the point is we paid for a concert on Wednesday night, not one on Thursday morning.

--------------------------------
Like I said, I didn’t go to the concert, and I’m glad I didn’t. Anyone who goes to rap concerts at clubs knows that the main act often doesn’t go on until 11 or 11:30 p.m. (Yes, after midnight is a bit ridiculous. This is Charlotte, not D.C.)
Your best bet is to call the venue and ask what time the main act will perform if you don’t want to arrive too early. Anyway, I’m glad I didn’t go to the show because I can’t take the whole preaching/rapping thing. DMX obviously has issues, and if he wants to express that in his lyrics, that's fine. But I’m not going to a concert to hear him preach.

Have anything to add? Post your replies below.

A week in New Mexico

Last year, my mom invited my girl and I to spend a week in New Mexico. My mom’s best friend Sue has a cabin that her family owns in the mountains between Taos and Eagle Nest. Sue’s mother, whom I called Momma Sarah, vacations in New Mexico every summer to escape the Oklahoma heat.

I want to eventually move to the Southwest, so I’m always looking for opportunities to explore that region of the country. I went to Phoenix a few years ago for a journalism convention. It was pretty, but I remember stepping off the airplane at midnight and it was 100 degrees. A hundred degrees at night!

The forecast for Santa Fe and Taos, where we also would be staying, called for cooler temperatures than that, so I was excited. I’d never been to New Mexico, and my vision of the Southwest is based on the movies “Waiting to Exhale” and “Boys on the Side.”

I imagined lovely adobe houses with miles and miles of land, pretty scenery and laid-back people. I got some of that, but I also got carsick from all the winding roads, a broken windshield from flying rocks, locals who look at black people as if they’d only seen them in magazines (one woman called us a novelty) and lots of poverty.

Hotel heaven and not-so heavenly

After flying into Albuquerque on Saturday, we drove to Santa Fe for the night. We met my mom and her friend Sue in the lobby of our hotel, the Eldorado, a picturesque hotel with huge columns out front and grand steps leading to the entrance. The rooms were stately, but the hotel is a rip-off for $299 a night.

The valet service is slower than mud. (Actually, everything in Santa Fe and Taos is slow. No one moves with a sense of urgency, which drove me nuts.) They lost our car. They didn’t have free Internet access, and their mojitos weren’t all that. Did I mention the hotel cost $299 a night?

My mom and Sue stayed about a block away in the Inn of the Governor’s on West Alameda Street. It’s rustic, with cute little fireplaces in the rooms and free breakfast. And I’m not talking about Comfort Inn-style dry cereal and muffins -- they had eggs cooked with peppers and onions, bacon and sausage, fruit, yogurt, waffles and French toast. That’s what I’m talking about. The hotel bar, the Saloon, seemed to be the most popular hangout in all of Santa Fe.

Whoa, he sounds like Tracy Chapman

After cocktails, we went to the Inn and Spa at Loretto on the Old Santa Fe Trail for dinner. We sat outside on the patio of the hotel’s restaurant, Baleen Santa Fe. The patio had a white canopy and it looked like the kind of place where you could have a small wedding.

Matthew Andrea played guitar, and if you closed your eyes, he sounded like a less-raspy Tracy Chapman. Andrea played covers, originals and instrumentals. He complemented the vibe with a soothing set that wasn’t too loud, but still audible enough to sing along if you wanted.

The hotel is one of those fancy places where the food looks pretty, the portions look small and your bill looks big. I ate the giant sea scallop with mussels in a broth. My mom tried the poached Halibut with forbidden rice. (It’s dark purple and sweet. The waiter said ancient Chinese emperors served it to their concubines.) My girl and Sue ate the salmon.

After eating, I was surprisingly stuffed and had little room for sopadillas (a fried pastry square filled with rich dark chocolate) for dessert. I preferred my mom’s hot doughnuts and my girl’s apple tart topped with ice cream.

If you’re going to Santa Fe, the Loretto is definitely worth a splurge. And they don’t have any mosquitoes in Santa Fe, so you can sit outside without dousing yourself in Off.

Partying in Santa Fe

After we put my mom and Sue to bed, my girl and I wandered the streets of Santa Fe looking to get into something. Santa Fe is rich in history and art culture. It’s not rich in nightlife.

We strolled through the square area, but most of the places were bars and none of them were jumping enough to stop. After partying Friday night at Charlotte’s NV, and then rising at the crack of light to fly to New Mexico, I was exhausted and needed a loud, busy bar to keep me awake.

It was Saturday night, but the town was dead except for a cover band performing at a tiny joint. After noting the shops we wanted to visit during business hours, we headed back to the hotel about 11 p.m. (1 a.m. Charlotte time) and called it a night.

Braving hail and falling rocks

On Wednesday, my girl and I headed to Red River, a “ski resort” about 30 miles north of Sue’s mountain cabin. As we drove through the mountains, we noticed signs that warned of bobcats.

We were talking about how cool it would be to get chased by a bobcat when my girl pointed to white stuff in the distance. I said it was cotton. When my car skidded, I realized I had driven into the aftermath of a hailstorm. Marble-sized pellets lined the highway and the landscape.

I rolled down the window. It was cold outside. I turned the car around to return to the cabin. (We wore shorts, sandals and T-shirts -- not exactly cold-weather clothes.) But then I decided I couldn't resist driving into a hailstorm in a rental car, so I turned around again and forged ahead toward Red River.

We eased around twisting roads only to find our lane blocked by mounds of fallen rocks and boulders. Awesome! We plodded along for another 10 miles, crunching through hail and easing past debris in the road to reach Red River.

Jesus stuff and saloons

Jack Bell, a friend of Sue’s family, told us that Red River was a one-road town where cowboys from Texas hang out. Although it’s called a ski town, Jack said real skiers don’t go there. I could see why. I swear one of the slopes runs into a building. Red River has a mile-long main street with a couple of saloons and cafes. The place that caught my eye had a sign advertising wireless Internet, coffee, jewelry and Jesus stuff. Yep, Jesus stuff. I had to go inside.

The Jesus stuff place had T-shirts that read "Jesus has MySpace in heaven," or something like that. There were other Jesus shirts, a jewelry case and various trinkets.

We stopped for a drink and a game of pool at the Bull of Woods Saloon. Before leaving, we tried Tractor Brewing Company’s Farmer’s Tan Red Ale. Despite the hearty name, it was a light beer.

Folks inside the saloon, and on the streets of Red River, looked at us as if they’d never seen real black people. Apparently, the percentage of African Americans in the Santa Fe and Taos area is miniscule. Mostly whites, Mexicans and Native Americans live there. Tourists tend to be from Texas, Arizona and Oklahoma, where it’s blazing hot in the summer.

We were a novelty, as someone put it.

Bobcats, bears and elk - oh my

New Mexico’s nightlife isn’t much to brag about, but the scenery is. The air is so clean and the land is so flat that you can see miles of mountains that make the ones along the Blue Ridge Parkway look like hills. The rock formations, such as Camel Rock, are gorgeous.

We didn’t see any bobcats or bears, but on a hike Thursday morning we saw real bear poop. And on our way to dinner at Sue’s sister’s house in Angel Fire on Thursday night, we saw two elk. This one wasn’t camera-shy.

Albuquerque's night scene is funny

On Friday, we stayed in Albuquerque to catch our early-morning Saturday flight. In Albuquerque, I finally got my taste of nightlife. The city’s entertainment district is along Central Avenue. The downtown area is clean and reminds me of Charlotte’s nightlife in the late ’90s and early ’00s -- i.e. there wasn't much to do.

The police close Central Avenue for about four blocks. Three cops on horses patrolled, as well as cops in cars and on foot. Mind you, the party section is only about four blocks and most of the action is in a two-block radius.

One mounted cop cracked me up. She trotted out from the plaza area with her left hand on her hip, her head high and a grin on her face. I couldn’t tell if she was policing or parading. Nevertheless, she and all of the other officers got serious quick at the first sign of trouble. They tooted their whistles (hard to mount a siren on a horse) and trotted over to the trouble spot. Partiers quickly cleared the street. Being trampled by a horse would have been a buzz-kill.

Along with being serious about quelling trouble, the folks in Albuquerque are equally serious about preventing underage drinking. At most of the bars, clubs and restaurants we checked out, the doorman or server took our ID and scanned it in a machine to check the authenticity.

A gay bar for all types

We started our Central Avenue partying at The District. We found it because we were walking around and heard club music blaring from the outside patio.

It was great. We saw women dressed in all kinds of funky styles, from Earthy tree-huggers to punk to hip-hop to stale-enough-to-be-yo-momma. The range of ages, styles and looks made the District feel more like an alternative club rather than the gay club that it is.

Outside on the patio, a DJ spun club music, and there were two bars, seating and a dance floor. Inside, a DJ spun hip-hop. Three makeup artists painted partiers' bodies and faces for tips. One young woman had a bustier painted on her torso, with matching stockings painted on her legs.

My girl got a wolf and some other kind of design on her chest. It lasted for 10 minutes before she sweated it off on the dance floor. It was real cute for those 10 minutes. Speaking of dancing, you know it wouldn’t be a night of clubbing if an older white lady didn’t try to steal my girl on the dance floor. This one latched onto my girl’s thumb -- and tried to latch onto other things -- and wouldn’t let go.

Hanging on Central Avenue

After leaving the District, we went to Sauce/Raw, a popular dance club. Sauce has a dance floor, bar, sofas in a lounge area, a projector showing eye-candy, and various art mediums on the wall. It reminded me of a much smaller and warmer Forum. A DJ spun club mixes of top 40 songs.

Inside Sauce, a line stretched from the doorway that led to Raw, the hip-hop club. (Imagine if the doorway leading from Forum to Pravda were closed.) I didn’t wait in line, but from what I could see while standing outside, Raw reminded me of Tilt. It looked long, with a bar and a patio.

After leaving Sauce, we walked across the street to the Distillery Downtown. Think Fox & Hound without the TVs. After leaving the Distillery, we bought water from a hot dog vendor and sat on a bench to people-watch. It was the highlight of our night.

I have never in my life seen so many women wearing shirts two thousand sizes too small and shoes one million sizes too big.

Then there was the guy wearing an oversized suit who looked like he was going to church not the club; two women -- who weren’t a couple -- wore matching denim overalls with one strap hanging down; a man wore a matching shorts and shirt outfit that made him look like a lemon-lime Starburst; a dude walked around with one arm out of his shirt (so not-cool); and a couple of women wore prom dresses for an outdoor concert. Why? Why? Why?

The clubs closed at 1:45 a.m., and I thought the police would rush people home, but they didn’t. Partiers milled about Central Avenue flirting and talking for about an hour. There was at least one fight and one towed car. At one point, an ambulance drove through. The driver politely tooted the horn to get people to move, and when that didn’t work, she said over the loudspeaker, “Move it or lose it.” Wow.

When we left about 2:15 a.m., the police on horses began clearing Central Avenue. The lady cop’s horse stopped to eat branches off a tree, and then several people came up to feed it more branches or pet it.

If we ever get mounted police here, I hope they’re that nice.

Comedy and The Graduate in Plaza-Midwood

The Graduate is the latest entry into the expanding Plaza-Midwood bar scene. The restaurant and bar opened in the spot that used to be Joe’s Raw Bar at The Plaza and Central Avenue on Friday. The grand opening will be next weekend.

Last Friday, about 50 longtime Graduate regulars, Joe’s Raw Bar faithful and neighborhood residents filed in after 9 p.m. The Graduate is more inviting than Joe’s, which felt dark and depressing. It’s lighter inside with lots of wood from the floor to the tables. There’s a pool table in the back room and the bar is now in front of the door.

Along with giving Plaza-Midwood area residents another watering hole, the Graduate is also home to the Charlotte Comedy Theater. The improv comedy group will perform in the Graduate’s back room every weekend. The bar will also have the NFL package for football season, but there are only a few flat-screen TVs. Still, if they’re showing the Redskins I’ll either be there or at Steamers.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony at NV

The hundreds of patrons bobbed their heads to the chest-thumping beats. Sweaty men pumped their arms and rapped along with Krayzie Bone, Layzie Bone and Wish Bone as the trio zipped through more than a decade’s worth of material at NV lounge on Friday.

Bone Thugs-n-Harmony fans enjoyed rehashing the group’s tunes with the late Tupac, Notorious B.I.G. and Easy-E as well as rapping to newer cuts such as “I Tried” and “Bump In the Trunk.” The crowd spanned from the front of the stage past the bar to the dance floor. Diehard fans sweated it out near the front on stage. Some sat on the bar. Others stood on bar stools.

The dance floor was nearly empty because so many people crowded toward the stage, but a handful of people danced on the floor where it was cooler and less crowded. Those farther from the stage watched the show on a giant projection screen hanging from the ceiling.

Bone didn’t rap as much as they entertained. The DJ played a song, the crowd screamed and the trio rapped a little, talked a little, stalked a little and kept the crowd hype – a lot. The fans didn’t mind the combination of lip-synching, rapping and dancing as long as the DJ played faves such as “Xcstasy.”

The success of the show underscores NV’s rise as one of the area’s premier nightclubs. Bone performed in Charlotte about a month ago and still drew a sizeable and enthusiastic crowd to the Lake Norman area. NV, which primarily draws partiers north of Charlotte, manages to be a place where blacks, whites and Asians consistently support rap concerts. In Charlotte, with the exception of classic hip-hop performers such as Nas, most rap shows tend to draw a predominately black crowd although the genre’s popularity spans all ethnicities.

Shen Wei not for me

I went to see the Shen Wei Dance Arts group perform at Appalachain State’s Farthing Auditorium last weekend.

My girl’s a dancer, so I surprised her with tickets for her birthday. I didn’t know much about the company except for that it was imaginative and creative, and wouldn’t perform typical modern dance. The group sounded great on paper: It performed at Lincoln Center in New York, and at all kinds of famous festivals throughout the world.

I didn’t realize "imaginative and creative" meant watching dancers perform the same moves over and over. Imagine seeing someone do the “Matrix” move a hundred billion times -- that’s what it felt like watching the performers during their meditatively slow performance. At one point during “Folding,” a woman walked really quickly in a circle so many times she made me dizzy.
I wanted someone to jump in the air and do a split so bad, it wasn’t even funny.

I like to stretch myself with the arts, but Shen Wei drove me nuts. There was a mass exodus to the parking lot during intermission. A lady told me that folks in Boone are retired and conservative, and that Shen Wei was a bit too much for them. The best part of the night was when one of those retirees imitated the first performance during intermission.

My girl and I toughed it out. She liked the performance -- but not enough to see again. Next time, I’ll stick to scraping my nails down a chalkboard.

Rolling with a blonde at Alley Cat

All kinds of Harleys and custom bikes lined the area directly in front of Alley Cat on Tuesday.

It was the bar’s first Bike Night, and about 25 bikers came out early that evening to show off their rides and eat.

I had just polished off a fried bologna sandwich there and was headed to my flag football game when I got a call from Urban Vixen, who was still hanging out there.

Apparently, after I left, employees cleared away tables and created a path through the middle of the club. Then a guy with a cute blonde sitting on his lap drove through the club on a tricked-out, Harley-accessorized go-cart. They looped around the club while the small crowd cheered. A few minutes later, he made another lap with a different blonde. Playa, playa ...

College night at Breakfast Club

The Breakfast Club is still building its fledgling College Night. On Tuesday, about 75 people hung out at the ’80s club dancing to top 40 music while the song’s video played on the screens. The club’s College Night draws a crowd comparable to the partiers you’d see at Bar Charlotte’s College Night.

Owner Jody Sullivan said Tuesday night was light compared to July 3, when the place was packed. They are having a Who Got Served breakdance party there for College Night on July 31.

Teens flood uptown on the Fourth

Cops on every corner. Cars pulled over along College and Tryon streets. Breathalyzers administered. Men in handcuffs. Swarms of teens pacing up and down Tryon.

That was the scene uptown last night about midnight. Clubs along Tryon Street were either closed or dead. Phil's Deli was the only place that was packed. (Considering Phil's only holds about 100 people, that's not saying much.)

The scene last night underscores two things about this city: 1) Officials are obsessed with protecting uptown (you could have been driving tore-down drunk anywhere else in the Charlotte and in no danger of being arrested), and 2) no one offers people under 21 decent nightlife options.

Co-worker Olivia Fortson has an idea I want you to consider. Since teens take over uptown on the Fourth of July, why not give them that night to party uptown? Clubs and bars along Tryon Street could hire DJs and extra security and admit only those under 21. The clubs could charge a cover and serve only non-alcoholic drinks (at increased prices).

What do bars and clubs along Tryon Street have to lose? Like I said, with the exception of Phil's, everything else was either closed or dead. As an adult, I had no desire to stay uptown and hang out with the cops and the kids.

What do you think? Could it work? Post your replies below.

A rap attack in Charlote (New shows added)

We haven’t gotten any huge rap shows at the Charlotte Bobcats Arena or Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre this year, but it plenty of major rappers are hitting the smaller venues.
This summer is starting to get exceptionally busy. Here’s a look at some upcoming shows.
One of the hip-hop shows biggest of the summer -- the Outta School Crunk Jump Off -- hits Cricket Arena on Saturday. Artists like DJ Unk (“2 Step”; “Walk it Out”), Baby Boy da Prince (“The Way I Live”), Jibbs (“Chain Hang Low”), Fabo and more will perform. 5 p.m. $20. All ages. www.cricketarenacharlotte.com.

*T-Pain, known for hits “I’m N Luv (Wit a Stripper) ” and “Buy U a Drank,” will perform at Crush on Sunday. 10 p.m. $20 and up.

*Lil Flip performs hits such as "Playa 4 Life" and more at this pre-Independence Day party on Tuesday. 9 p.m. NV lounge. www.nvlounge.net.

*Bone Thugs-N-Harmony -- whose new disc, “Strength & Loyalty,” features the tune “I Tried” -- will perform at NV lounge on July 13. $20. www.nvlounge.net.

*DMX performs at Amos’ Southend on July 18. The New York based rap-rock band Bazaar Royale, which is building underground buzz, will open. 8 p.m. $25. www.amossouthend.com.

Talib Kweli performs at the Neighbhorhood Theatre on Aug. 1.9 p.m. $25. www.neighbhorhoodtheatre.com


Power 98’s SummerFest which brings Lil Boosie, Lil Webbie, Crime Mob, Gorilla Zoe and Heizman Boyz to Cricket Arena on August 4. The first 1000 tickets are $10. The rest are $24. www.ticketmaster.com.

Pete Rock, Little Brother, Supastition, and DJ DR will perform at the Neighborhood Theatre on Aug. 5. The event will also include an art exhibit, indie film screening, breakdancers and vendors. 8:30 p.m. $18, $25. www.neighbhorhoodtheatre.com

Snug Harbor mystery

After I wrote about the new bar Snug Harbor, a reader asked if I knew the origins of the name of the Plaza-Midwood bar. The reader wondered if it pays any homage or respect to the famous jazz club Snug Harbor in New Orleans.

The folks at Snug Harbor said in an e-mail the idea actually came from the 1987 Mickey Rourke/Faye Dunaway film "Barfly" -- it's the name of a pub shown during the opening credits.

There are actually several Snug Harbors across the states. In addition to the Snug Harbor in New Orleans, there is a large cultural center on Staten Island's north shore bearing the same name.

Our Snug Harbor pays homage to all those that have come before it.

Chuck Brown at Amos' Southend

When Chuck Brown comes to town for the CIAA tournament, he always draws enough people to fill two hotel ballrooms.

But it wasn't clear whether the go-go legend could draw a large crowd without the CIAA -- until Saturday. That night, the crowd in Amos’ Southend danced and grooved to classics like “Bustin’ Loose,” “Moody’s Mood for Love” and “Run Joe,” and new cuts such as “Chuck Baby” and “Block Party.”

Go-go builds on a constant percussion groove while an artist sings. Artists make go-go versions of hit songs, as well as original tunes.

One of the best parts of Saturday’s show was when Brown stepped to the back and played guitar while Lil’ Benny took over. I was standing upstairs watching from the balcony as Benny led the crowd through the motorcycle dance. He’d point, and the sea of bodies would lean to the right, then to the left. I usually loathe group dances, but watching all the bodies moving together on this night was cool.

Anyway, I want to know: Do you think Charlotte can support go-go on a consistent basis? Do y’all want more go-go? Post your replies below.

Fall Out Boy even better live

I didn’t realize I knew so many songs by Fall Out Boy until I was sitting in the concert nodding my head to many of them.

The show at Verizon on Wednesday drew a smaller crowd than I anticipated. I expected the parking lot to be packed when I drove up but it wasn’t. While out there, I ran into Brandon and several co-workers from JHE, who were out tailgating. They’re a rowdy bunch with the feisty Maria (Brandon’s boo), the girl hunting Rook (adorably cute) and more subtle girl-magnet Kenneth. I joined them in the VIP section. It was my first time - wahoo! Thanks guys.

The crowd was smaller than I anticipated, but men and women stood and hooted throughout most of the show. Is Fall Out Boy the band for bodybuilders?

For some odd reason, I saw a lot of beefy guys there. Although, the band did have this weird fascination with testosterone. For example, during “The Steroid,” a man onstage did pushups throughout the song. Later in the show, a young girl put baseballs in a pitching machine that shot the balls at a man wearing a catcher’s mask.

When the band wasn’t filling the show with those types of antics, they cranked out expected hits such as “This Ain’t A Scene” and “Sugar We’re Going Down,” the band played a rocking version of Michael Jackson’s “Beat It.”

I loved Patrick Stump’s noodling version of Akon’s “Don’t Matter.”
Best part was Stump didn’t hump a girl on stage or lob a teen into the audience.


Did you go to the concert? What did you think? Post your replies below.

Wentz didn't act sick on Wednesday

Fall Out Boy’s Pete Wentz was supposedly too sick to DJ at the Forum on Wednesday, but his “illness” didn’t stop him from jumping around the stage at Verizon.

Wentz was supposed to DJ an after-party at the Forum, but on Wednesday afternoon the club announced that Wentz’s management said he was ill. It sounded fishy from the git-go, but after seeing him perform, I believe the illness story even less.

What do you think happened? Post your replies below.

Folks at Steamers love this country

A city ordinance banning businesses from flying more than three flags might be the best thing that happened to Steamers, a cozy sportsbar off Albemarle Road.
I live near the bar, and have passed it numerous times, but I never bothered to stop until Saturday. The bar organized a Red, White & Blue party to show that the nine flags that flew atop the bar were to show patriotism, not draw business. Being forced to remove the flags gave owner Bill Nolan more publicity than the nine flags ever did. His dilemma became fodder for talk radio last week after an article ran in the Charlotte Observer.
On Saturday, I stopped by the bar. Every small pub calls itself a Cheers and this one is no different. Tracy Thomas is the den mother and seemed to know everybody there. Many regulars have gone there for more than a dozen years and friendly newcomers are immediately welcome.
Steamers doesn’t look like much from the outside, but inside it's lined with plasma flat screen TVs that show sports. It’s a Panthers and Eagles bar, but I’ve been assured that even my Redskin-lovin’ booty would be welcome. They have karaoke on weekends. Pool tables, darts and foosball games are in the back. In anticipation of an eventual ban on smoking, there’s an enclosed outside patio with heat and fans.
Steamers serves the typical range of bar food, but get this: Burgers are served on wheat buns!
If you go, ask for Tracy and prepare to find a new place to hang.

Bread pudding war

For the last year, Kitch and I have debated about who has the best bread pudding in the city.
He liked the pudding at Copeland’s. I thought it was okay. He raved about Table’s, but it was petite and pretty. I loathe petite and pretty - give me food. I suggested Fenwick’s. He wasn’t impressed.
Last night, I finally got him to try the bread pudding at Hotel Charlotte at Sharon Amity and Providence. The restaurant gives you a heaping bowl and it’s sooo good.
When the bartender sat the bowl in front of us, Kitch raked his spoon across the top, ate a small piece and said it was good. When he ordered a shot of Grand Marnier, I knew I had won him over.
Our next mission is to find a place to go late night for dessert. I hate feeding a late-night sweet tooth with a McDonald’s sundae.
Who has good desserts and serves until at least 10 p.m.? And what’s your favorite spot for dessert? Post your replies below.

DJ Jazzy Jeff coming to Amos'

As long as I've known promoter Mike Kitchen, he's always raved about DJ Jazzy Jeff. I've always thought of Jazzy Jeff as the sidekick to rapper the Fresh Prince (a.k.a. Will Smith). I tried to see Jazzy Jeff spin at a boat party in Miami during the Winter Music Conference in March. But the organizers were full of crap, and me and hundreds of other partiers never made it onto the boat after standing in line for more than an hour. (Can you tell I'm still bitter?)

Anyway, I'll finally get to see Jazzy Jeff spin when he comes to Amos' Southend on July 21. Kitch has been trying to bring him here for two years, and he's giddy with excitement over the show. Like I said, I only know Jazzy Jeff through the Fresh Prince, but apparently he's one of the hottest DJs in the country. He's known for his mixing skills and deep stacks of classic and underground hip-hop. This is his first Carolina appearance. Raleigh's DJ BroRabb, who I love, will open.

Tickets will be available at www.amossouthend.com or www.charlottevibe.com. (Don't forget: Go-go's godfather Chuck Brown performs at Amos' on Saturday. Wind me up, Chuck!)

I'm curious to see if Jazzy Jeff lives up to Kitch's hype. I'm even more curious to see if Charlotte hip-hop heads will support the show and have fun. We don't get a lot of DJ shows at Amos'. Big-name DJs tend to go to dance clubs like the Forum, Eden or Velocity. I want to know: Will hip-hop fans head to Amos' for a night of dancing to some of the hottest beats? Will they go and simply nod their head, looking cool? Or will they go elsewhere? Am I the only person who didn't realize that Jazzy Jeff was such a popular DJ?

Post your thoughts below.

Taverna's happy hour needs work

I tried the Thursday happy hour at Taverna 100 on Tryon Street uptown, and I can tell you this: I won’t be a regular.
The portions were small, the dishes were just okay, and the service was slow.
Taverna calls its Thursday specials Banker’s Hours. On paper, it sounds great: half off appetizers, and half-price beer and fruity martinis.

The problem is that when we went, the only server was both tending bar and waiting on the tables in the bar area. She had to wait on the handful of people at the bar, a couple sitting in a booth, our party of six, and another party of six. As nice as she was, it took a while for her to make the rounds.

The bigger problem, however, was the portions. With the exception of the mussels, everything was itty-bitty. For example, the kabobs were tasty, but we only got two small sticks. That’s not going to cut it.

Half-price beer is awesome, but if Taverna wants to draw more patrons, they’re going to have to dish out more grub.

Real dancing at Grand Central

Couples twirled, dipped and danced to jazz and swing classics at Grand Central on Monday.
Monday nights at the Central Avenue club feature some of the best dance music in the city. Each week, Bill Hanna’s Vintage Dance Band -- which includes some of his CPCC students -- plays for a crowd of people mostly over age 50.

The vibe is relaxed, and the music is slamming -- if you dig Big Band-era music. Men lead the women onto the floor and show off their waltz, swing, foxtrot and jitterbug skills. There’s a cash bar, and a light appetizer and sandwich menu. (The potstickers were good, and the chicken wings are crispy.) Grand Central has a smoking lounge, so you're less likely to smell like smoke when you leave. In coming weeks, dance lessons will be offered.

The band plays from 8-11 p.m (although people were leaving by 10 the night we went). Details: 704-373-1699. If you can’t make the Monday night gatherings, try Swing Tuesday at Lynn’s on South Tryon Street near Tyvola Road, hosted by the Charlotte Jitterbugs. Details: denise@charlottejitterbugs.com.

Sorry nerds, I mean geeks

In my video report this week about ConCarolinas, I referred to attendees of the sci-fi and gaming convention as nerds. I was wrong.

They are geeks.

My mistake has sparked a discussion in the ConCarolinas online forum about the difference between nerds and geeks. Apparently, the guys in the Alltel commercial are nerds, but the folks who attend ConCarolinas are geeks.

Silly me.

My punishment is that I will not get to be a dungeon master (darn), and I will have to eat Klingon food (yuck).

$1,000 martini

Capital Grille bartender Paul shows me how to make a $1,000 martini.

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On Wednesday, I tried a $1,000 martini!

It’s called The Capital Grille’s Carolina Blue Charity Martini. The national chain has sold at least three here and more than 100
nationally.

It’s has Ciroc Vodka, Crème de Mure and fresh berries, and is adorned with a Blue Topaz and Diamond Caviar Rope Bracelet designed by Steven Lagos. If you like fruity drinks, then this martini is for you. Without the bracelet, it’ll cost you $10, but then you can’t tell all of your friends you drank a $1,000 martini.

You don't have to drink and drive

Hey partiers, now you have no excuse for drinking and driving.

Starting June 15, Red Fish Entertainment and Kount Down Entertainment will host the Charlotte Party Bus. Buses will club-hop to the hottest parties, then return you to your pickup point at the end of the night. The crawl costs $35 in advance, and $40 at the bus. Drinks on the bus are free. For an additional fee, you can use Two Guys and Ride, which is a company that drives you and your car home.

Pickup locations are the Wal-Marts on Mount Holly-Huntersville Road and in University, as well as Southend Brewery and Eastland Mall’s parking lots. The June 15 crawl itinerary hasn’t been finalized, but when it has, I will post it on the Paid to Party blog.

Seriously folks: Drinking and driving is no joke, and this is a great concept. I definitely plan to try it out. I hope you do as well. www.kountdownentertainment.com.

Coliseum implosion was cool

A toast to the good old days and new beginnings.


When I moved here, the Hornets were a fixture. As a Maryland native, my favorite NBA team was the Washington Bullets, or Wizards, or whatever they were called back then. Part of what turned me off about the Hornets was Alonzo Mourning, who I watched when he played for Georgetown -- I always thought he whined too much. (But I did like the gutsy Muggsy Bogues.)
My fondest memories of the Hive were concerts.

Last Sunday, I joined about 100 other people who watched the Coliseum crumble into rubble at Pope & Land’s implosion party. For me, watching the implosion wasn’t about nostalgia, but a chance to watch a building go down. I’ve always wanted to see one.

After interviewing Bogues and Calvin Easter, who pushed the button that set off the detonation, I began thinking about my favorite moments at the Coliseum.

*Janet Jackson perform in 2001: The crowd was so hype, it was incredible.
*The Tina Turner concert in 2000: I felt so fortunate to see someone of her stature.
*Cyndi Lauper’s opening performance for Cher in 1999: I didn’t realize how much I liked her.
*U2 in 2001: It’s U2. What more do I need to say? Plus, they had a heart-shaped stage, and fans stood both inside and outside of it. I still remember my editors going nuts trying to warn me about the deadly Who stampede.
*Neil Diamond in 2002: I can still smell the Ben-Gay.

Still, the best memory I will ever have about the Charlotte Coliseum was watching that baby implode. Awesome.
What was the best concert you ever saw at the Charlotte Coliseum? And did you watch the implosion? What did you think? Post your replies below.

McCoy's loves Harleys

Hanging at Mac's Speed Shop for their two-year anniversary on Thursday.





McCoy's on a Friday night.











I’ve been riding motorcycles for 10 years, but biker-bar-hopping the last couple of weeks made me feel like a real biker.

I was at Cans' Tuesday night Bike Night a few ago, but last week I hit two straight-up biker bars: Mac’s and McCoy’s.
Thursday, I joined dozens of other bikers celebrating Mac’s Speed Shop’s two-year anniversary. Simplified, a local band that is steadily improving, performed. Bikers and FOBs (Friends of Bikers) streamed outside the popular restaurant and bar.

If you’ve been to Mac’s, you know their food is ridiculous. They cook their chicken wings and other meats in a smoker. They also have a huge selection of craft brews, which is what first drew me to the place. And don't forget the deviled eggs.
Mac’s is my favorite yuppie biker bar, but McCoy’s -- which is around the corner from Mac's, at Woodlawn and Old Pineville Road -- is the place to go when I’m feeling like a roughneck.

Ryan Register, who managed the Men’s Club, followed his dream and opened the bar with his father Namon and brother Jimmy about six months ago. Register named it after his grandfather. Relatives say Register reminds them of his grandfather.

McCoy’s has a rougher vibe, a smaller selection of beer, and slammin’ food. They also smoke all of their meats. Their chicken wings were delicious, pulled pork melted on my fork, and they even had good macaroni and cheese (I rarely like mac 'n' cheese unless it comes from a soul-food restaurant.)

Most of his patrons last Friday were Harley-Davidson riders. When I pulled into the lot, the doorman directed me to put my Honda Shadow in the far parking lot. I wasn’t allowed to park my bike next to all the Harleys out front.
I screamed segregation. Register assured me that it wasn’t the bike, but the lack of available parking. (I still don’t believe you!)

When I walked in, several patrons looked me up and down, but the staff was friendly. By the end of the night, I exchanged goodbyes with a few patrons.

If you go, Register typically hires a Dyno machine or a burnout bike to set up in the parking lot on Fridays. The noise makes it difficult to hold a conversation on the patio, but both are fun to watch.

Hardcore partier leaving Charlotte

By the time you read this, Party Goers Anonymous founder Doug Hunnington will be heading to his new home in Fort Lauderdale. (His job was outsourced, so he’s moving Friday.)

The 41-year-old started PGA about six years ago. The group sponsored bar crawls and game nights, and Hunnington was a regular at all of the big events. I spoke with him recently about the city’s changing social scene.

Why start PGA?
It was actually something that just happened. I was sending out an e-mail to a few friends, letting them know whose name the happy hour was under that week. Everyone started giving me their e-mails to be included on "the list.” Then people would suggest doing other events.

In just a few months, the list had grown to over 50 names, and we were doing something almost each night. I did a naming contest, and one of the members came up with PGA: Party Goers Anonymous. The e-mail was named The PGA Tour.

How many members on your e-mail list?
617.

What was the social/nightlife scene like when you moved here in 1998?
There were not near as many bars. There were not many social groups. The biggest were CHOA.com (Charlotte Outdoor Adventure) and the Charlotte Skibees, a snow skiing and social club.

How has it changed?
There are grand openings going on around town almost every weekend. Neighborhood bars or restaurants are hosting social events and mixers to bring in business. And, of course, there are several social clubs and organizations in Charlotte.

In addition to the couple I already mentioned, there's Lazyday.com, famous for their nightlife photography and bar crawls; RockHouseEvents.Com, which throws some great party events you really have to attend; and several others. Lake Norman even has events now, and most are sponsored by LKNFun.com.

What are your favorite events?
The Bartender’s Ball, Queen’s Cup Steeplechase, Taste of the Nation and Center City After Five. I also like the formal dress-up Christmas charity events like Second String Santa and Toys for Tots. These are some of the things that will be bringing me back up for a visit.

What does Charlotte need to make nightlife better?
More friends who don’t let friends sit home bored on a Friday or Saturday night! Actually, I’d like to see more theme bars uptown. A club should have a theme other than just dancing or watering down your thirst! I like the new Alley Cat bar with the rock and roll music similar to the old Stray Cats band in the ’80s.
Oh, and I would like to see strict fines for towing companies and parking lot owners who tow vehicles of drunk people left over night. What do they want drivers to do? Drive home drunk?

Are you starting a PGA in Fort Lauderdale?
Yes. For now it will cover the Fort Lauderdale, Boca Raton, and Miami area. I am planning a bar crawl already in the Fort Lauderdale Riverwalk area. They are going to love it! My goal is to get them to visit some of the other cities. I understand folks in Boca won’t travel to Fort Lauderdale, and Fort Lauderdale won’t go down to Miami for events.

I also plan on continuing to lead trips that may include Charlotte folks as well, like the annual cruise in November and maybe Mardi Gras next year. We’ll have to see what the next phase of Party Goers has in store for everyone.

A waiter with adult A.D.D.

For my birthday on Saturday, I wanted to eat a good dinner and then barhop Hilton Head style. We settled on dinner at the Old Oyster Factory.

The wait for a table was 45 minutes on Saturday night so we sat in the bar area. Our waiter was a jittery guy named Chris. Love him.

You always knew what Chris liked. I asked him about the different oysters. He said he didn't have anything else to say that would add to the menu description. I asked about the Blue Point oysters. He excitedly detailed how big and juicy they were.

After we ordered, he moved us downstairs to a bigger table. I asked him about the night's dinner specials and he said "Oh yeah!" You could see the light bulb go off. He listed the specials. We asked him for more silverware. Chris dashed across the dining area so fast he flew into the glass window leading to the patio.

The Oyster Factory has steps leading from the bar area to the room where we sat. Chris jumped down the stairs like a little kid.


After dinner, I asked about desserts. Chris said, "We're not really known for dessert." (Luv him)

Our final Chris moment came at the end of the evening. My girl surprised me. The staff brought me a birthday cake and sing "Happy Birthday." (I'm still embarrassed and plotting revenge.)

Chris offered to take our picture. We handed him a camera. He pointed it at us and said 1, 2, "s---." Yep, he snapped the picture too soon. We laughed our faces off.

Turns out this was Chris first night with his own section. We weren't surprised, but judging from his demeanor, I have a feeling he's always spastic.

If you go to Hilton Head this summer and eat at the Old Oyster Factory, and you're not pressed about having a polished server ask for Chris.

Hot mamas and fun guys in Hilton Head

After dinner we headed to the plaza just outside of Sea Pines Planatation to begin my birthday night of barhopping.

After peaking into the Lodge and Brew Pub, we settled on One Hot Mama. My girl and I were walking out of One Hot Mama into the crowded plaza when I saw the empty table in the corner. I wasn't the only one who saw it. A dude and his three friends saw it as well.

The outdoor plaza was the courtyard for three bars (One Hot Mama, The Lodge and The Brew Pub) in the plaza leading to Sea Pines plantation on Hilton Head Island. Sea Pines is the happening area on the resort island known more for golf and pristine beaches than raucous partying. It was 10:30 and the plaza was starting to get packed. Speakers blasted music outside and 20- and 30-somethings filtered in as the 40-year-olds drifted out.

I didn't sprint, but I started a fast stroll to the table. The dude did the same. We arrived together. The dude looked at me, and said something like, "We got here at the same time." I smiled, and said we could share. My girl looked at me like I was crazy. Baby, there's four of them, she said. The foursome looked at each other like WT-?

I sat down and pulled up a chair for my girl. The dude said okay, and sat down as well. His friends pulled over two more chairs, and we spent the night drinking and swapping stories with Patrick, Wade, Tiffany and Laina. Patrick and Laina (a couple) were from Tennessee. They were in Hilton Head for a physical therapy workshop. Wade and Patrick went to high school together and were fraternity brothers. Wade and Tiffany, who live in Jacksonville, had dated before and were hooking back up. They came down for the night to hang out with Patrick and Laina.

Wade regaled us with tales about the men's urinal inside One Hot Mama's bar and restaurant. Apparently, there was a one-way mirror behind the urinal that gave him a view of the bar. Wade spent a lot of time in the urinal. Patrick and Laina giggled about a woman whose store-bought breasts were obviously out of place on her petite frame.

We all laughed about the black guy with the contacts that made him look like a zombie. They were all-white and made his pupils look like black slits. (But more on him later. Let's just say he said he was from New York, and unless there's a New York in Georgia, dude was lying.)

Tiffany's company is based in High Point, and she loves Charlotte. She said she visited for New Year's Eve one year and loved it. She stayed at a Hilton uptown, and was surprised to see streets were pristine on New Year's Day. She promised to stay in touch and hopes to transfer to the High Point area for work.

Patrick wanted to know about the live music scene. I told him about the type of shows that come to the our venues. He was drawn to the type of shows at the Visulite, such as Derek Trucks and Victor Wooten. I gave him information on MerleFest and told him to stay in touch.

After buying a round of lemon drop shots and toasting my birthday, we headed to Monkey Business, a dance club about a block away.

Getting into some monkey business

My final stop on my birthday night of barhopping in Hilton Head was Monkey Business.

When I asked people where to find a raucous club, everyone suggested Monkey Business.

We arrived at Monkey Business Electric Piano about 11 p.m. Inside, a man played piano and sang, and a drunk older woman stood on her chair and sang loudly. I walked through a thicket of people who ranged from Baby Boomers to one-foot-in-the-grave and headed to the bathroom. After surveying the crowd, I decided it was going to be an early night.

I snapped a few pictures and turned to catch up with my girlfriend. A man old enough to be my grandfather had snagged her near the door and was begging her to go home with him. He told her if she went home with him, he'd have a great night. He must have had a pocket full of Viagra and a defibrillator under his bed.

I howled with laughter, and thought about all of the readers who angrily dissed me about my Richard Gere column.

Outside of that Monkey Business, we noticed another club on the right tucked into the corner. Rap music blasted from speakers. It was the Monkey Business. With the exception of Mr. Contacts (read about him in other blog posts), my girl and I, and a group of Asian guys, the club was predominately white. It was smokey from fog machines, and a DJ played top 40 hip-hop. It wasn't crowded, but the vibe was fun. Large groups of friends mostly danced together, and couples watched from tables near the bar.

The club's clientele reminded me of my visit to Soho East/Daisy Dukes in the University Area. After about a half-hour, I was ready to go. Monkey Business is fine for a resort like Hilton Head, but I preferred people-watching in the courtyard area better.

Hey black guy, don't try so hard

I don't have a problem with black men who date white women. Some of my closest male friends do. Heck, my brother lives with one. But I do have a problem with black guys who act stupid to get a white girl's attention. My friends and I call it the minstrel show.

A buddy of mine loves to describe the black guy surrounded by white girls and starts doing the snake and other '80s dances. Why? Why? Why?

On Saturday, I saw a whole new act in the minstrel show. It started in the courtyard outside One Hot Mamas. As I mentioned in a previous blog, I took a picture of a black guy wearing all-white contacts. He said he was from New York, and he liked to be different. Ugh. Then Mr. Contacts started doing the footwork dance that kids in middle school here did years ago. Grown men do not do footwork.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the last of his antics. We ran into Mr. Contacts again at Monkey Business, a dance club just outside of the Sea Pines plantation. At the club, he continued his footwork clinic and kept trying to freak on groups of women. Embarrassing.

I have countless examples of black guys behaving badly to get white girls. Do white guys do the same thing to get black women or women of other ethnicities? Post your replies below.