Rock Lobster Jello?

Am I the only person who thinks that Jello Biafra (Dead Kennedys) and Fred Schneider (The B-52s) sometimes sound eerily alike, both while speaking and singing? I'm just sayin'.

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About 10 years ago, I took a pleasure trip to Atlanta with my best gal-pal, Cheri. The friend we were staying with (Drew) is politically active, and had a Green Party function the same night we were arriving. Thankfully, our arrival time would be too late for us to attend; so, we were given directions to a nightclub where an after-rally party would be held. Cheri & I would meet Drew there, and start our mini-holiday revelry.

By the way, I'm not a horrible, evil person who despises the Green Party, or anything green. I just think that political rallies are right up there with old-fashioned tent revivals. With both, there are a lot of orators making pretty speeches and/or hollerin' hellfire and damnation. Both the preachers and politicians make promises they can't personally keep, and tell you that their way is the only way to true happiness and security. I'll pass on both, thanks.

Anyway... So Cheri & I get to Atlanta, find the nightclub, and meet up with Drew. Drew practically drags us the back of the club, where there is a semi-private little alcove. He quickly explained that Jello Biafra was a speaker at the event and so had come to the party/club. And since Drew was one of the organizers, he could introduce us to Jello. Of course we were a bit excited; I mean, all of us had been little punk freaks in high school, and getting to meet Jello Biafra sounded really cool.

That is, until I actually saw him. The reed-slender, hot, angry punk god of my teens had been replaced by a plump, middle-aged man wearing the most god-awful paisley shirt I'd ever seen in my life. Really, there's just no excuse for paisley, is there? And then he opened his mouth, and began channeling Fred Schneider. Except Fred's not dead. I had startling visions of him singing "Love Shack Uber Alles" or something like that.

We were introduced to Jello, and Cheri got an autograph on a Camel bar napkin, the only paper product to be found in the place. I declined an autograph, as I don't really care about them unless they're in a book. We did polite chit-chat for a few minutes, then Cheri & I wandered off to check out the dance floor and shake our groove thangs.

I thought that was that: we'd met a punk icon, had a new anecdote in our repertoire, and were now poised to get on with our mini-break. But I was oh so wrong, as the "best" was yet to come. It was now quite late, and we were thinking of finding someplace to get some grub. Drew had apparently suggested this to Jello as well, and received a favorable response, because the next thing I knew a small group of us were arranging carpools to go and eat. We were going to have Jello for breakfast. (To be continued, as I have to go pick up a youngling from school!)