It was September 15, 2001 and everyone was still reeling from 9/11. We
were standing in line outside the Newport Music Hall in Columbus, Ohio to see
David Byrne. It was his Look Into the Eyeball Tour. As we waited, a loud
religious nut, perched on a milk crate across the street, was prophesying the
end of the world. Many people in line wanted to make his prophesy come true. I
think everyone just wanted to escape for a little while. Jesus dude was not
helping.
We got inside as the opening band was finishing up. I bought a 32oz
beer, which is a great buy because you don’t have to get in line as often.
Problem is that the beer gets piss warm, so you have to chug it. Then you have
to go stand in line for beer. And for the bathroom. We made our way to the
front of the room and found a spot, stage right, back about 20 feet.
David Byrne and his band sauntered out in gas station outfits,
embroidered names and all. They played.
It was the best show I had ever seen. Still is.
It could have been the mental state that we were in or it quite possible
was the best show ever. Either way, we were all floating a few inches above the
sticky floor. I get goosebumps thinking about it.
Then at the midway point of the concert, the music stopped and Joe Show
came out on the stage. Joe Show is a DJ at a local Classic Rock station that
was sponsoring the show. For some reason, Joe Show was holding his bowling
league’s season wrap up party at the concert. He grabbed a mic and talked up
David and the band. He then started in about his bowling league and how special
it was to him.
The audience plunked back down on the sticky floor and began to mumble.
He then asked David Byrne to help him hand out bowling trophies to the
“winners” in the bowling league. He handed David a card with names on it. David
seemed slightly amused and a bit nonplussed at the whole bit. Well, it was the
Midwest. The crowd was pissed. Yells at Joe Show started. “Get off the stage!”
“You suck Joe Show!” “No mo’ Joe Show!” Add a smattering of boos and profanity
and Joe got the idea. Joe took back the list from David and sped through the
last bit of the trophy handing out. He cleared the stage, but not before
handing out other bowling trophies to David, the band and the string section.
You rock, Joe Show. Really.
Regaining composure, David jumped back into the show. In about thirty
seconds we all forgot about Joe’s self-indulgence. Again, the show rocked.
A few days later, I was reliving the story about the concert to my
co-worker, Kindra. On a side note, I mentioned the whole bit about bowling and
trophies. She suggested I write a letter to the editor of the local alternative
paper. So I did. The letter to The Other Paper went like this:
An open letter to Mr. David Byrne:
Please accept these apologies from myself and the hundreds of others who
attended your concert Sept. 15 at the Newport Music Hall. It seems that a local
radio station thought it would be appropriate to distribute their bowling
league trophies in the middle of your concert, bringing the momentum of a
tremendous show to a screeching halt.
I can only congratulate you for recovering that momentum with grace and
style, making the second half of your show even better than the first. Please
do not hold the actions of a few against the rest of us. We definitely want to
see you back in Columbus.
Doug
P.S. Idiots! Screw you Q-FM 96. And you suck, Joe Show.
I sent the letter in on a Monday. The weekly paper comes out on Thursday
and my letter was not in the editorial section. I was disappointed, but not
surprised. I had expected to get a phone call from the paper asking me if I
actually existed and if they could print my letter. And I mean really, who
cares about David Byrne anyways… Time passes.
The phone rang at 6:10 a.m. It was the next Thursday. The letter had
been printed.
(Who knew?) The call was from the morning jocks on the radio station in
question. They wanted to get me on the air with Joe Show and poke fun at him
for his antics. I said it was too early and I had to get ready for work. “How
about 9:00 a.m.?” Yeah, I can do 9:00 a.m.
Yeah! I was going to be on the radio and we were all going to make fun
of Joe Show. Hurrah! I called all my friends to tell them to listen in to the
verbal beating.
Little did I know.
Around 8:45 a.m. they called me. They quickly reviewed what they wanted
to go down. Waggs and Elliot would introduce the bit, ask me for my side of the
story and then bring Joe Show on to mock him. Easy. I waited on hold, listening
to the DJs banter as DJs do. Then I was up. They spoke about the letter in the
paper and read some excerpts. I was introduced and gave my side of the story.
We all laughed. They then said that there was someone on the phone who wanted
to talk to me.
“Doug, you are a dick.” Joe Show has a way with words.
Joe told his side of the story. He claimed several things:
1. I was a dick. (I can see that.)
2. He, out his own pocket, paid for the 60 or so bowling leaguers at the
concert. (I had accused him of using free passes that could have gone to real
fans.)
3. He claimed that there was no booing and that everyone in the audience
LOVED the trophy ceremony. (No comment.)
4. He said that the trophy handing out to David, the band and the
strings was done by him running home before the concert and gathering up 10 of
his personal trophies. (I can’t dispute this, but who the f*ck would want a
trophy with Joe Show’s name on it?)
5. He claimed that David Byrne had come up with the idea about handing
out the trophies. (Oddly enough, I can believe this. Byrne is an odd cat. My
issue is that Show should have said thanks, but no thanks. Of course,
egotistical assholes could never say no to an opportunity like that.)
And then the verbal beatings ensued. As Joe Show described his lame ass
side of the story, I tried to interject with my interpretations of his
recollections. The entire morning crew and Joe Show attacked and ripped me
sideways. I didn’t have a chance. They didn’t want to poke fun of Joe Show,
they wanted to make me look like an ass. Sadly, it worked. The volume on my
phone was turned down and no one heard my witty comebacks. I ended up looking
like someone who punched a quadriplegic in a wheel chair on her birthday.
At the end, I hung up and called my wife. She was very supportive.
“Honey, they made you look like an ass.”
Two years later during a reunion at Ohio University, my buddy Larry said
he had heard me on the radio six hours earlier. I said that was impossible. He
was positive. When his alarm clock radio went off in the morning, there I was,
talking about the David Byrne concert and how Joe Show had screwed it up. Turns
out it was a “Best of QFM-96.” Yeah, the best of. Larry said, “They made you
look like an ass.”
Sigh. David Byrne has not been back to Columbus since.
YOU SUCK, JOE SHOW!
(Author’s note: Joe Show unexpectedly died in 2016. As soon as I heard
the news, I felt bad for the resentment I held for him all those years.
Whenever I got to tell this story, I remember explaining what an asshole Joe
Show was and in my mind, what an asshole he still was. After he died, there was
an outpouring of positive remembrances of Joe and of all his work for charity
and local music. This is my opportunity to tell everyone that I was not happy
with Joe Show that night and for many years after, but that I forgive him. It
was all for entertainment, both on his side and mine. And while this story is
not a glowing memory of Joe Show, it is a memory and it is the only thing I can
give him now.)
