It was a schweaty weekend

Remember the old Alec Baldwin SNL skit where he played Pete Schweaty, a man who appeared on a National Public Radio show to sell his candy, Schweaty Balls?

Well, sometimes when it's hot and humid the weather goes past sweaty right into schweaty. Las Vegas was hot and miserable in a "thrown into a large convection oven" sort of way, but it was never schweaty. It just didn't have the schweatyesque humidity necessary for such a designation.

Louisville, on the other hand, is quite capable of bringing the schweaty, and it brought it big time this weekend. It actually started a day early, when I went to the Kentucky State Fair. Perhaps some of you have been to a state fair and thought "Wow, there's a lot of rednecks and hillbilly types here." Well, imagine if that state fair was held in Kentucky. Yeah.

To be honest, since I went during the day, the crowd mostly consisted of farm families from throughout the state making their only visit of the year to Louisville, their hated "big city" neighbor. As long as you didn't ask them about religion, politics, or race relations everything was cool. Well, not the weather: It was schweaty. I schweated like R. Kelly sneaking into a dressing room at limited, too.

On Friday night I saw indie rock gods Shellac. Their guitarist and frontman, Steve Albini, produced Nirvana's In Utero and The Pixies' Surfer Rosa, and has been playing music for over twenty years in various bands. I think the band insists on playing all-ages shows, so the concert was in a church recreational room. Second floor. NO AIR CONDITIONING. Five hundred people jammed into a rather small place. This may have been the schweatiest experience of my life. I didn't think I was capable of being that uncomfortable after riding around in Vegas for a month without car a/c; I was wrong. I schweated like a microphallic meth addict trying to fuck Aretha Franklin.

After working on Saturday, I, like a crazy man, went to THE SAME HOTBOX CONCERT VENUE to see Shipping News, not as indie rock goddish as Shellac but a better band in my opinion. All of the guys are from Louisville, and the drummer used to date a friend of mine, so it was good to see them again. It wasn't quite as schweaty since the crowd wasn't as large and they were selling water for fifty cents a bottle, but it was still pretty fucking uncomfortable. I schweated like Alanis Morrisette getting her teeth cleaned.

On Sunday I was off work but was obligated to go to a family picnic. Despite my pleas, the get-together was not held in the conference center of a nice hotel but at a state park. There was a lot of good fattening food there (I made my famous not-Derby Pie), but it was humid like a crotch. I schweated like Mel Gibson at a Bar Mitzvah.

Here's hoping the week ahead is less schweaty.