We're back in Ybor City tomorrow night, part of the city's scary drunken Guavaween. I was asked on a phone interview this past summer about the bay area's music scene, and more specifically, Ybor. I mentioned how awful it has become, with the city's noise enforcement and shoving out of what made Ybor, Ybor. Saturday night will be much more than noise for Ybor, it'll be drunks vommiting, peeing, fighting, and finally (hopefully) passing out; gangs of thug kids mugging and fighting, boobs-boobs-boobs, maybe some oral in the alleyways, and lots of king dollar. I mean mega bucks. That's what really sickens me about the whole thing, lack of sincerity. Or should I say, a stay of sincerity when real money is introduced. The rest of it is what it is. If you don't want to possibly get into a fight, get mugged, or see some tatas, stay away. Let those who do, do. About 2 years ago, Jay and I sat through (and I actually spoke! Me? No way!) a huge pile of Rose Ferlita bullshit about how the city worries about what the noise is doing to the community. Rose, by the way, is the commish that was elected by one, yes, one vote. And you thought your vote doesn't really matter. I'd like to shoe the corky who gave her that one vote right in the nuts. Enough on MR. Ferlita, back to the joke that is a once killer place to play a gig. My family goes way back to Ybor. Ybor City was a company town back in the 1800's. Cigar was the product, and my family rolled'em. My grandfather owned a store in Ybor back in the 30's and 40's. Ybor City and New York City, those were where his two stores were. Imagine? My mom was the cashier girl at the Ritz movie theatre while in high school. I was with the old house band at Carmine's, Ybor's first live music club, back in the late 80's. We helped put Ybor back in the minds of those wanting to spend some cash on a weekend while drinking a few beers and hearing a live rock and roll band. And after all that history, all I've got today is a bunch of greedy city officals and land developers licking their chops. Geez, it pisses me off all over again. Think I'll hit the Crown on stage Saturday night and give the open air a few words via the microphone. Let'em know just how I feel about what they've done to my and Papi's Ybor...bastards. I feel like listening to some Steve Earle. Viva la revolution! Take care. Later, Butch