Didya Want to Be a Rockstar?

I don't know why, but it sure seems like there are a lot of frustrated rockstars out there. I made an assi, late-night, one-too-many-cocktails-while-cruising-FaceBook comments on Rob Bell's Resurrection video, something about 'a bit over-produced for my taste but not surprising for a guy that is a frustrated-rockstar preacher.' It actually wasn't that mean, but that's what I was thinking. Poor Rob--I really like what he's doing, but the video felt like it was Rob-as-Bono, and I wanted more Rob. I'm blaming his producer.

About a day later I got a little cosmic aikido. Was cruising unread emails and I found a note from Carlos Vergara, an old Wheaton friend and photog who had attached some images I'd never seen before from an outdoor show we put on at a house party where I went to college (Wheaton) at the house I was living in at the time. It slayed me. It took me back in time as I tried to figure out what I was thinking, where I was and what the hell was going on in those images.

No doubt I count myself among the wannabes. Not that I was that talented a rock musician, but I did have a brief moment in the sun, more from pure balls and marketing/promotional ability than talent but there was Dungus Mangulaneous (still not entirely sure how to spell the second name of our band).

On Sundays at Wheaton, a few friends and I would drink a Coors Party Ball. It was a 'spiritual discipline' that we forced ourselves into as part of our Reformed Pledge. If you don't know Wheaton, it is a very conservative Christian college outside Chicago. They have a pledge that students sign saying you won't drink, dance, smoke, gamble or fornicate. We created a Reformed Pledge that we signed stating that we would do at least one of those things every day, thus "keeping the pledge today." The Coors Party Ball was our Sabbath rest. I don't recommend this.

Anyway, after completing the discipline of the Party Ball, we decided to create a rock band and to cement the deal, we started calling clubs to book a gig with this band. We named it Dungus Mangulaneous after an abnormal psychology term someone had heard at a party the night before. We got a meeting to book a gig at Club Stodolla. The problem was we didn't have a band, didn't play instruments and didn't even know where to get instruments.

The first thing we did was use the new world of word processing via Apple Mac and laser printers to create a press kit that looked way more professional than was thought possible (1990) and went to the club. We dressed up, acted crazy and had a story. We were looking for a club to kick off our national 'Label the Jar Tour.' Stodolla bit on it.

Next, we got some friends in a good band, Fish Club, to teach us how to play, loan us equipment and get us through a set list--simple songs; i.e., "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash, loud volume and lots of distortion. We also added playing in boxer shorts with dayglow body paint under black lights for effect.

I had just been kicked out of Wheaton a few days before (long story) and was the director of recreation for College Union, so I rented a bus to pick up all the kids that would be at our kegger the night of our show at the house I lived in. We had some friends put the kegs on the bus, everyone followed the kegs and, voila, we had a sold-out show.

Our band sucked, but we had a lot of fun. The Sex Kittens opened for us (a real, legit punk band in Chicago), we won the bets about whether we'd play or not, and our drunk friends cheered us on. Club Stodolla re-booked us for their big Halloween show that fall. . .idiots. These photos are from a party at our house the next night (I think), where we did an outdoor concert. . .until the cops showed up.


wanna be famous
fun to be at the center
now what do i do?