Knoxville520.com

Well, I am a little behind in my entries as of late, but I had many obstacles to face in the last few days. Being a courageous defender of hope, justice, and the Knoxville way pits many adversaries in my way. Fending off these baddy bads sometimes eats up my schedule. I hope you haven’t missed me.

Wednesday night I was never aware that one of my long time allies was going to betray me. Companion to me on many a fair evening, a tender and saucy friend stealthily poisoned me. One single, luke warm buffalo wing I had slid down my gullet began the process that would eventually bring me to my knees come Thursday evening. It was a terribly gory affair that involves things best left undescribed. How one of my most trusted comfort foods could stoop so low, it was betrayal at it’s spiciest. It was well into the wee hours of Friday morning before I stopped howling ‘et tu, chicken wing?” into the toilet.

Luckily I had managed to gather most of my strength come night fall. Using my identity as blackmail, the infamous Thirteen had called me out. So in true superhero/villain style we met at midnight, high above the metro-Knoxville streets. Unfortunately, K-town seems to have only two buildings close to being skyscrapers. It was awkward at first as I stood on top of the BB&T building, craning my super ears to hear the nefarious Thirteen yell his evil plot from the acme of the First Tennessee. We quickly semaphored an agreement to meet halfway. So in the covered pedestrian bridge, tens of feet above Main Street, we finally met face to face. My nemesis at last before me, clad in a form fitting black on black ensemble complete with mask and sword, left but one lingering thought in my head. Man, those cats in the SCA sure can sew a mean costume. I was starting to feel a little showed up in my bath towel cape and underoos.
“So we finally meet, Thirteen” I said.
“Indeed, Young Lad. It will be an honor to bring the high and mighty Straps to his DOOM!!! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” the dark one cackled.

Then like for the next thirty minutes or so, dude starts going into how he’s got this big ole plan for ruling the world. I mean, it was interesting for a minute, but then he’s all ‘death beams’, blah blah, ‘evil army of do-ers’, blah blah, showing me pictures of his ‘mind control quiche’, re-enactments involving action figures, flow charts...

Finally, I was just like, “Dude, it’s the middle of the night and I am standing downtown in my underwear, freezing my f@#$ing little lads off. Let’s do dis already.”

And it was off to the races. Bam, slam, kapowey, zoing, zip, zap, slap, say I won’t, gitcher filthy paws offa, eat this, try that, how ya like me now, et cetera, until a standstill felt inevitable. As the moonlight basked down upon our battered and bloody bodies, I suddenly could feel the strength of hundreds of Knoxville scensters swell up in me, the taste of Miller High Life in my sweat, the faint echos of Umphrey's McGee’s coming from the Bijou playing in my ears, throngs of smiling happy people out at the bars and I could see each and every one of their sloppy grinned faces. “NOT IN MY TOWN, BUDDY” I bellowed as I wiped a trickle of crimson from the corner of my mouth.

Then, because we had previously agreed to keep everything PG-13, I chucked him off of something high onto something pointy. Funny thing is, apparently Thirteen is all sorts of into full spinal piercing. He just totally pulls himself off of this rusty piece of re-bar and pops in a super-duper gauge stainless steel barbell. Oh, we just laughed and laughed. Then we went and got waffles. Man, I like waffles.

At least that’s how I recall how Friday went down. Mind you, I did keep intermittently blacking out and then finding myself on my couch sweating out a food poison induced fever. My memory of the events could be a little suspect, to say the least.

With all nasty bouts with bacteria coming to a close come Saturday, I finally did get to be a superhero of sorts. Saturday evening I was honored and privileged to be an honorary member of The Bearded for the night. Even though I only managed to get up two day’s growth on my chin before the show, the wonderful fellows in the band still let me up on stage with them for a great show at the Laurel Theater. It was part of the ongoing concerts put on by Jubilee Community Arts and it was a humdinger to be sure. The band was hot, the crowd was awesome, and even local harmonica legend Mike Crawley got up on stage for a kickin rendition of "If I Should Fall From the Grace of God". I highly recommend catching these gentlemen some time if you haven’t already, and not just because I'm on their washboard sub-list. They got all your old time fun lovin jug bandy goodness joneses covered.

TONIGHT'S PICKS: I can't get enough Portuguese, so I guess I need to get down to the Preservation Pub tonight for the Nova Delinquents.

Until the next episode, true believers,
This is Strapping Young Lad, over and out.

p.s. All in good fun, Thirteen.