Smile Politely

The Old Man and the Show

Man, my calendar is jam-packed for about three months. Normally this sort of thing would really piss me off, but most of the stuff on tap looks like it will be pretty fun … at least until I ruin it for everyone else. The actual events got started this past week and if they were any indication, it might be a good idea to buy some stock in the liquor industry.

Either way, let’s talk about Turquoise Jeep, since, you know, when you think of me you think of rap music. Either way, they are a wonderful rap group that brought their act to Champaign earlier in the week. I even stayed up late and went. Let’s get it on.


Let’s begin with the obvious question: How the fuck do I even know who Turquoise Jeep is? Well, the answer is my lovely wife. Honestly, I’m not sure how she knows who they are, but since I’m self-centered, let’s focus on me for now. She’s been walking around the house singing their songs for about six months now, though it often seems far longer. Through no fault of my own, these songs have crept into my head and are now part of my musical vernacular. This is fine, since I find their songs quite enjoyable.

When the wife discovered that Turquoise Jeep was performing at the Highdive this past Monday night, she was excited, that kind of excited a kid would get in November if she knew she was getting a monkey for Christmas kind of excited. I’ll admit I was excited too, mostly because it’s hard to find a reason to drink on a Monday and this seemed like a fine reason.

It turns out I got a little squirrelly on Sunday, so I kept my drinking to a minimum for the show. The band also started at 11 p.m., which for some reason seems very late to me on a Monday evening. I wisely took a nap from 7 to 10, because I would imagine there’s nothing more embarrassing than falling asleep during a rap show. I got up and had a smile on my face already because I knew I’d be hearing this:

I really enjoy this song, but I’m always surprised when I hear it that they mention nothing about swabbing anyone’s poop deck. I mean, really.


The band took the stage … or at least one of them did, I think it was Pretty Raheem, and began the show with their wonderful song, “Cavities.” How nice, I thought. This young man is so interested in a career in dentistry that he took the time to write a song about it. Then I listened to the words a little more closely, “cavities … all that chocolate in your mouth.” It occurred to me that it was quite possible that oral hygiene was actually the furthest thing from his mind. Is there such a thing as a single entendre?

After Raheem sang for a second, he was joined on stage by Flynt Flossy. I love it when rappers use names from the bible. All of a sudden, things really picked up and it was balls to the walls for the next 60 minutes. Two other members of the group took the stage (Whatchyamacallit and Yung Humma), most of them, I believe, except for Slick Mahony, who appeared to be absent. It was sort of easy to tell which one was missing, you know, since it was the white guy. This was fine except that I find his song, “Go Grab My Belt (you need a spanking baby)” absolutely amazing and I wouldn’t get to hear it.

Just having the four of them, however, was more than enough. They were honestly the consummate entertainers. Flynt can dance like nobody’s business. I mean, he’s really good and really fast/quick. They also brought some audience girls up on the stage and gave them lap dances. At this point, the gyrating was so excessive that Flynt could have blown out a candle with his twitching butt cheeks.

It was also at this point that I think most of the ladies got wet, you know, down there. I was also sort of wet down there, but I mostly attribute that to the much warmer weather early in the week. They pretended they were done and then brought about half of the audience on stage to dance to that infectious Pirate song to close out the set. It was really weird and really, really fun.


Probably the best part of the show was also the most surprising and also not really part of the show. The fellas said thank you and also mentioned that they appreciated everyone very much, basically the sorts of things you expect performers to say, but not especially mean. After that, however, they showed they actually meant what they said. They stuck around and signed whatever anyone wanted signed. They also posed for pictures with everyone and, of course, sold merchandise. They promised they’d stay as long as it took and they did stay that long.

So, yeah, they were selling their stuff, but it also seemed pretty sincere. Most of the bands I see finish up their show and head for the bus as quickly as possible. You’re still free to buy their stuff, but they’d really rather not be involved with you on a base level. Turquoise Jeep didn’t play that. They want fans and they want their fans to be happy. That alone would have made me like them. The fact that it was the most entertaining show I’ve been to in a while made me like them even more. I have a feeling the next time I see them they will need a much larger venue.


I picked this because, well, it’s just sort of funny to see people get the piss scared out of them. I mean, seriously, it never gets old.


I’m never disappointed when I leave something in the microwave longer than I think I should.

I made a magical homemade pizza crust last week and quite honestly, I’m still not 100% sure how I did it. Maybe I should make little cards with directions on them so I could make it the same way again. I may call these little cards “recipes.” Naw, something like that would never catch on.

It’s weird when a person becomes Ron Mexico right in front of your eyes. It’s also sort of scary.

Also, here’s a recent picture of me that was posted on I’m aware it’s not an empty Hamm’s hat on my head, but apparently Busch Light also counts. Anyway, I sort of look like a wrestler, so um, enjoy.

Buona sera, senorina, kiss me goodnight.

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