Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The Worst Good Rats’ Show I Ever Attended

Mickey could play and chew gum at the same time.
The first Good Rats show I attended was during the abysmal days of the Carter administration. My pals and I hitch-hiked down Rt. 46 to Dizzy Duncan’s in Parsippany, NJ, a standing-room-only affair that we were legally too young to walk into, but if one didn’t know how to shimmy up the drainpipe and slip in through the torn shingles on the roof their street their cred was dead zero. I was 16 and looked 14 and recall trying to suck the beer out of my baseball cap after some mook in biker's garb spilled a Budweiser on my head. I stood by the stage, my nose as high as guitarist John Gatto’s heels, and got a gander of Mickey Marchello, whose bird's nest of a beard and obviously mad eyes made him look like La Barbe bleue. Front and center, Peppi Marchello was screaming, “I’m a Mean Mother.” It was love at first sight citing.

Nearly four decades later, I’ve stopped counting how many Rats’ shows I’ve been to. It’s like trying to remember all of your kid’s birthdays. Blame it on good living. And the worst Good Rats’ show I’ve ever attended? No such animal. They were all primal events. This is a family affair, boys and girls, as in Manson meets Adams.

What am I talking about? Come see for yourself. My pal Peppi sings with the angels now but his boys are still doing it and rumor has it Gene Marchello will be soaring on lead guitar and dueling vocals at the upcoming show at the Tap Room at the Somerset Hills Hotel, 200 Liberty Corner Road, Warren, NJ, on March 21.

Double your money back if not satisfied. Just take it up with the management.

Artists' rendering. Have you seen these men?

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