by Casey Rea
I'm not gonna be around for Mardi Gras this weekend, so you better be on your best behavior. I think we might swing up to Maine, although I haven't told me family yet... Better that way, really.
I was at 1/2 on Tuesday night, enjoying some music. Activists/Dictators (It's f@#k'n plural!) particularly rocked me. Simon Plumpton is a Drum God.
Anyway, we were sitting at the little table close to the door, and I thought I saw Eugene Hutz walk in. I said, "Nah — why would he be in Burlington on a Tuesday night? It's probably just a Hutz-alike."
Well, it was actually him — when I went to grab another(!) drink, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a heavily accented voice say, "Eh, Mussolini."
So we talked for a while. Turns out Gogol were playing in Montreal, so he swung into VT for a couple of days. It was good to see him in person. He's the same dude I remember.
He told me a hillarious story about a band I was in and Mother Russia. Maybe I'll tell you later.
I had a terrific night, but never made it over to Honky Tonk. Apologies to those crushed by my absence. ;)
Okee — off to work it is.