Macca Vs. Leatherface

Normally I would have been in the Palm Springs area right now getting myself ready to head over to the Empire Polo Fields to begin a three day binge of live musical acts, frozen lemonades infused with smuggled-in Stoli, and loaded baked potatoes from Señor Corn at the notoriously over-hyped Coachella music festival. But due to my status of unemployment, I am not able to attend this year.

All is not lost tho as I will more than likely have the chance to see the majority of the scheduled acts I would have enjoyed to see there at the festival here in my home turf of Los Angeles. It seems that this city is a definite pit stop for any well-known, and not-so-well-known, performers from all over the globe. Especially if they want to make a splash in America. Living in the entertainment capital of the world has its perks.

And speaking of perks, me not going to Coachella has opened up a door that I have been lusting to explore for many, many years. Since I am in town this weekend, I will FINALLY be able to attend the Fangoria Weekend Of Horrors that takes place downtown beginning this afternoon. Granted I will only be going for one day tomorrow, but that will provide me with enough horror-loving good times to keep me happy for weeks to come. Talk about a silver lining.

I have been a lover of horror films since I was a young lad. I remember watching "A Nightmare On Elm Street" and the original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" with both of my parents when I was a kid. I was fortunate to have parents that embraced all facets of my personality. I was obsessed with anything related to the macabre - from the Halloween holiday, to gore films, to Elvira - it was completely fine with them.

Altho I will admit, as a child I hated the look of legendary rock band KISS - don't ask me why, I just did. Any photos of Gene Simmons in face scared the shit out of me. You would think for someone into watching a movie where zombies chew through a victim's rib cage KISS would be on the low end of the freak out factor. Nope. I was terrified anytime I laid eyes on photos of that group. Hell, just ask my mom about that time I ran out of Sam Goody's because of a KISS group standee back in the early 80's. Regardless, my fear of them changed when I hit my teens. I guess the development of pubic hair allowed me to get over my anxiety. Yay for me.

Anyhoo, as I prepare myself to soak in all that awaits tomorrow I say "fuck you Coachella with your hipsters, hippies, and b-rate celebs... even you Sir Paul McCartney - that asswipe", and "hello fan-boys, gore-geeks, goth-wannabes, and those who believe they are real life zombies... I can't wait to party with all of you freaks!".