Luv Doc Recommends: Fleetwood Mac Hoot Night

Club de Ville, Friday, December 2, 2011

Luv Doc Recommends: Fleetwood Mac Hoot Night

Like Joe Paterno jokes, Christmas is just … too soon. Yeah, yeah, broken record. Every year the schmaltz piles thicker and thicker. Maybe if it was somehow discovered that Santa was a child molester … wait a minute, that story is a broken record too. Santa has probably been busted for child molestation countless times. Good God … the elves alone point to some sort of sick, stunted development fetish, but you can bet that no matter how many times Santa ends up in a police lineup it's never the real Santa. Of course, the same could be said of countless guys named Jesus who would love to be forgiven their transgressions too, but apparently, God doesn't speak Spanish or post bail. There's no telling how many legions of pedophiles over the course of history have donned Santa costumes. The thought is staggering … like googol (the number) … or the grains of sand in an hourglass … or the extras cast of Spartacus – the last scene of which, incidentally, was an excellent example of what used to happen when a large group of people claimed to be someone famous. These days the punishment is much less severe. Yes, identity theft is a crime, but it's not like the mayor of Las Vegas is lining the Strip with crucified Elvises (yes, that's the plural form, otherwise it would be Elvii, which could just as easily refer to Santa's little white-knuckled "helpers"). Regardless of the suspiciously nocturnal ramblings of the red-suited, rosy-cheeked, right jolly old elf, no one seems to want to call him on the elves issue. He could probably leash his reindeer to a windowless van with clowns and ice cream painted on the side. It wouldn't matter. Americans, and arguably the rest of the world, are still "all-in" when it comes to Christmas. There's no turning back now. Overzealous Christians and profit-grubbing corporations have the largest part of the Western Hemisphere suckling intently on the tit of greed. Sound pessimistic? All right. Fair enough. Christmas is the season of giving, but guess what? By Christian standards, so is the rest of the year. It's just that the rest of the year all you get out of the spirit of giving is a profound sense of compassion and humanity which inevitably leads to smug self-righteousness, superiority, and a car that doesn't even have a gas tank. What it never leads to, however, is a Nintendo Wii under a garishly decorated conifer in your living room and stockings stuffed with sweets and swag. Christmas in July is called Meals on Wheels, and even though fat people may still deliver the goods, it's a totally different vibe. When you give gifts expecting something back, it's called Christmas. When you give gifts and expect nothing back, it's called charity. Nobody wants charity, but everybody wants Christmas. Yes, even the Grinch. Remember when his heart grew to three times its size and busted out of its frame? You were there. Wahoo floray motherfucker. There are no charity carols (OK, maybe the theme song on that Sarah McLachlan Debbie Downer dog commercial), charity lights, or charity trees, but there are, thankfully, charity parties. Why? Well, with charity parties you get something back. Is that so wrong? This Friday a seriously fun charity party is happening over at Club de Ville. This party benefits the Health Alliance for Austin Musicians with a Fleetwood Mac Hoot Night. A whole slew of talented entertainers will be on the Mac like a moth on a flame. Plus, there's a Fleetwood Mac costume contest with an Uchi gift certificate for a grand prize. Here's the beauty of this deal: If for some reason you don't feel cool enough to hang out at Club de Ville, relax. This is a Fleetwood Mac Hoot Night. Dork it up all you want. You'll fit in nicely.

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