Over on this I Love Music thread about this site that lists how much it costs to book specific touring bands, Al suggested someone should reorder the list by dollar amounts. I was just curious enough to do it.
The list was way too long to blog, but you can click here to download a massive Excel file with those artists ranked in order of how much it costs to book them.
If you had $50K to pay artists for a show, what would your bill look like?
Mine would look something like this:
The Stills ($15K)
Rx Bandits ($7.5K)
Andrew Bird ($7.5K)
Ted Leo ($6K)
Josh Rouse ($6K)
Mike Doughty (3.5K)
Imperial Teen ($3.5K)
Travis Morrison ($1K)
Spending pretend money is fun.
* Someone hacked my site late last week. This was puzzling on a number of levels, the most prominent of which being that, like, four people actually visit this site. It’s not exactly much of a conquest, really. It’s akin to setting the record for punching yourself in the neck the most times in a minute; it’s stupid, insignificant and frankly not all that difficult. Regardless, if you are one of those four people who stopped by over the weekend and saw the hacked version, no, I didn’t develop a sudden affection for Matrix-meets-Geocities-sites-circa-’99 school of design. Nor did I suddenly fall in love with 1337 speak. That wasn’t me. It’s all over now. I promise. It’s all fixed now, baby. Don’t you worry about it.
* CB2.com, Crate and Barrel’s new younger-skewing little sister, gets my Seal of Approval. For no real reason, I got the itch to order new plates last week. I turned to CB2, who pleasantly scratched that itch. The plates I chose are attractive, inexpensive and arrived promptly. Plus, they use cool environmentally-friendly packaging. When I opened the bright orange box and found one of the plates chipped, I called their toll-free help line immediately. After just over a minute’s total time on the phone, which included shuffling through an automated menu and speaking with a very helpful and courteous customer service rep, they agreed to send me another plate free of charge and I didn’t have to return a thing. A+, CB2. Please open a brick-and-mortar store near me immediately.
* Also getting my Seal of Approval: The Donkey Puncher, a delicious beverage desperately in need of a better name. Here’s how you make it: Drink a 40-ounce bottle of malt liquor (I prefer King Cobra) down just past the label. Refill the bottle with your favorite variety of Sparks (I chose Sparks Plus, a.k.a. Sparks Black, a.k.a Goth Sparks, a.k.a. Sparks WK [party in a can]). This is the Peanut Butter and Jelly of adult beverages. It is one of the twenty best things I’ve ever had in my mouth (the rest of which are mostly either breasts or foods from the Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n’ Waffles menu).
* If you’ve ever wanted to get to a point where hanging yourself sounds like sweet relief, try spending a Summer in Sacramento with both a car and an apartment that do not have air conditioning. It’s working quite nicely for me.
* I would pay somewhere in the neighborhood of a $20 cover to get into a place where I could drink beers, swim and pet doggies. Not at the same time, mind you. I’m not endorsing wet dogs or drinking around wet dogs. I just want to scratch a puppy and stay cool. I’d like to pretend I’m not alone in thinking this is a great idea. Even if I am, if you have a dog and a pool, you could probably make some easy money from me.
Dear Bonzi,
Thank you for being a beast in the first four games of the playoffs. I couldn’t be happier that you came to Sacramento in a contract year. If our friends Mr. Petrie and the Maloofs reach an agreement to bring you back next season, I hope you bring the same intensity. We love it. That’s why we chanted your name at the game tonight.
Please do not make us compare you to Jerome James next year. It would warm our hearts to discover this outstanding play had nothing to do with the pursuit of a big ol’ check.
Your pal,
Jeff
P.S. I really wish the nicknames “The Bonz” or “Arthur Bonzarelli” had stuck. It would have been so awesome if everyone in the crowd yelled “eeeyyyyyy” every time you made a shot.
