Wednesday, March 05, 2008

End Times Are Nigh

I am quite certain that the title of this article makes no sense because I really don't know what "nigh" means. If you have ever looked at my profile, you learned the only things that were ever important to me. Look at the "favorite movie" line.

This past Sunday, we lost the leader of the Roadhouse band, Jeff Healey to retinoblastoma, a rare form of eye cancer that had affected him since the age of one. Healey was only forty one years old.

Today I find out that Patrick Swayze has terminal pancreatic cancer and only has five weeks to live. Story HERE. Swayze is only fifty five. Shit.

Terrible things come in threes, so I must say now, so long Sam Elliot. I loved you in Mask, Ghostrider (Sam was awesome and saved the movie entirely by himself), and the Holy Grail of all movies, Roadhouse. "Hurts like shit, don't it?"

I have created a new label in honor of that terrible movie that I can never stop watching and shall at some time post the entire dialogue one bit and one piece at a time.

"What if he calls my mama a whore?"

"Well, is she?"

(Hat-Tip: Wizbang)

What are your favorite Roadhouse moments?

Do not think for one minute that this is making fun of this tragedy, I love Dalton like family.

UPDATE: For MUD, this photo of Dalton is a photoshopped image, one of about three total on my site, I usually use MS Paint, the greatest program ever invented! MUD has been to a seminar on photoshop and he is flying through the program. Go look at Kansas boy's gator pitchurs, dey's good. I bet that he would 'shop some old images for you if you wanted him to, you know, like if you wanted grammy to have three arms or something. "Dalton/Roberts" photo from THIS post.

9 comments:

Arcticman Speaks! said...

"Pain don't hurt." two dogs, I'm going to tell you something and I'm not bullshitting. In 1982 I was the bouncer at a place called Huupies Roadhouse in Wasilla, Ak. I actually went to the interview from Job Service and those people looked at me before I left like I was nuts. This club was busy, dark, sleazy and dangerous, just like the movie, but it was the local bikers who you had to watch out for.

I've never had more adventure. Besides sitting in with bands, getting laid alot, drinking every night, and having only one fight, I learned the skill of verbal judo and "Being nice". I also learned to make friends. Lots of friends.

My favorite response to a trouble maker was to ask him to take a moment to look around. Then I'd inform him that I could not guarantee his safety through the parking lot, let alone the bar if he didn't make his next decision wisely.

The bar owned a Cessna 182 and we'd go flying every sunday. I lived upstairs and was sleeping early one morning when a 7.2 earthquake struck. Before the bottles downstairs stopped smashing I had the staff of lovelys curled up with me all scared to death. Oh ya. There are many great memories. It began a 20 year career.

I've watched that movie many many times and I still love it.

Two Dogs said...

Ah, to be young and crazy again, Arcticman, the philosopher.

Were there a lot of troublemakers? I have noticed that the biker bars tend to be pretty rough and tumble but most people do mind their own business. Floribama or Hogs Breath Saloon come to mind.

"Pain don't hurt," but he flinched anyway.

Arcticman Speaks! said...

They were few and far between and usually they grow out of it. My philosophy was that you dont invite someone into your business and then beat the shit out of them for being under the influence.
Getting into a fight with someone you've allowed to overconsume makes you look like an ass. I did it once, payed the hospital bill, appologized to the man, and learned my lesson. After that I focused on learning compliance techniques.

The biggest challenges I faced were people who were too drunk to come in and didn't appreciate being refused entry, or those trying to return that I'd previously sent away 86'd for life. Nearly every fight took place at the front door, where I had the moral ground to protect the owner's investment.

The only part of Roadhouse that I thought was B.S. was Dalton's command to always take it outside. That was the worst thing I could do. People will draw you out and then have a bunch of their friends kill you. I always said "If were gonna fight lets do it here where there'll be plenty of witnesses. Then it was up to them.

That was my only biker bar. After that I moved to Anchorage and a more sophistcated client. One last insight.......Samoans are the the most god-awfull fun people to work with in the bouncer business. I became the "cooler" and they were my extremely enthusiastic associates.

I love Samoans.

Two Dogs said...

Not to tell you your business, Arcticman, but when you are talking about "loving" a big burly Samoan, you must insert (no homo) into the end of the line there.

Aren't you a jailer now?

Skunkfeathers said...

LOL...enjoyed the movie. Too bad about the last two mentioned celebs. I know of another person who's fought cancer practically all of her young life, and after having won the latest round, found out that the doctors were wrong, and it's back in overwhelming fashion. At 17, she's vowed to fight on.

Now that's guts.

Two Dogs said...

Holy crap! A 17 year old girl is a bouncer at a bar? That is awesome!

Really, my prayers go out to her.

Reverse_Vampyr said...

I loved Roadhouse!

"This place has a sign hangin' over the urinal that says, 'Don't eat the big white mint'."

My other favorite moment is when the owner of the Double Deuce describes his place as one where they "sweep up the eyeballs after closing."

Two Dogs said...

Rev Vamp, you mean Frank Tilghman, who was the owner of the DD.

And Wade Garrett was the one that said that about the urinal cakes.

Yes, you know your Roadhouse.

Arcticman Speaks! said...

two dogs,
Yes. It's the best job I've ever had.

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