Fetish Revolution – Part 1

The drive to Phoenix felt like a breeze compared to the past couple of days. And breeze may not be the appropriate term. At times we were dealing with gale force winds, perhaps stronger than any winds I have experienced before. Upon reflection, Mother Nature may have provided the most intense experiences of the past 24 hours. She certainly provided the most beautiful. Our decent from northern Arizona to Scottsdale took us through the Tonto National Forest. It was an amazing drive and I wish I had better pictures but here is one.

Tonto National Forest

Tonto National Forest

Along the way we stopped in this small mountain town to get gas. I guess it does cross my mind what people think of us when they see this band of motley looking characters get of a black-on-black tiger-striped vehicle. I’m sure it’s quite a sight to be seen but to me it can’t compare with what they see all around them every day. Jazz mentioned that they will be talking about us for months. I don’t know if that is actually true but it does make me feel a bit jealous.  It takes so much to shock me these days.

The event this weekend is the type of thing that would shock most people. I did arrive with expectations of the most lasciviousness nature, and with good reason. The last time we performed at one of these shows things got so out of hand at the after party that we can never return to that hotel again. It’s not complete bravado that persuaded me to take the pill of Cialis which I had been hanging onto for the past four months.

I clearly had sex on my mind last night but I don’t know how to make those things happen. I’m not a player. I’m no Casanova. I would like to believe that I know how to seize an opportunity when it arises but I’m not even sure that is the case. I did learn that the hotel has a complimentary happy hour so I wasn’t going to pass that up. We let Venus go on to the venue without us and Jazz and I headed down to the pool for a couple Tequila Sunrises.

Venus at Martini Ranch for  Fetish Revolution

Venus at Martini Ranch for Fetish Revolution

Venus performed a solo-acoustic set last night. I’ve played in her band for the past 6 years but I have been a fan for the last 15 years. Since I’m usually on stage with her it is a real treat to get to be in the audience and a great reminder of why I do this in the first place. Venus is a truly remarkable performer and way ahead of her time. I don’t even think the numerous trans-gender people in the audience were not aware of what they were experiencing. I fear that Venus will not be fully appreciated until long after she has given up performing. But I will know that I was there, that I was part of it.While I have the opportunity, I want to do everything in my power to share the magic she creates with anyone who is open to receive it. I’m so grateful that James Bound, co-founder of Horns and Halos, producer of this event, is one of those people who gets it.

I don’t even know how to describe one of these fetish events. It’s such a bizarre clustering of people. I like diverse crowds and if you are into people watching this is certainly a candy store for the eyes. But I don’t really care what people look like. I want to know who they are. I want to get into their head… and sometimes into their pants. Most of the people at this event weren’t even wearing pants. And the fact that this is basically a costume party adds another level of difficulty to figuring out who is who.

People attend these events for so many reasons. Some come for the fantasy, a chance to be someone different. Some come for the music, mostly industrial and goth. Some come for the fashion; some just to look and some to be looked at. Some come because this is one place where they can feel totally normal and some come to have an experience completely out of the ordinary. There is every kind of kink and proclivity, sexual orientation and gender identity represented. I’m fine with all of that. All I want to know is which one of these beautiful human beings wants to have sex with me.

I did meet many amazing people. I met a man dressed as a pirate who was able to pull off the hook hand and peg leg for real. I met a woman covered in scares from consensual but not self-inflicted knife wounds. She was not impressed with the bite mark on my chest. I met a wonderful lesbian couple and we had a great conversation but I had to cut it short because this obviously wasn’t going to lead where I wanted my night to take me. I met half-naked poll dancers who were lovely to look at but not available for conversation. I met a woman laying on her back, next to a bowl of strawberries and covered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I asked if I could dip my strawberry in the chocolate sauce on her chest. She said I could but I needed to put the strawberry in my mouth. I obliged, getting the gooey mess all over my beard. I think it was at that point that I realized that I needed to abandon all hope of getting laid and find another way to have fun.

As much as I enjoy having sex I think I equally enjoy dancing. I sometimes forget this. Being an entertainer and spending most of my time in clubs on stage, I forget how much fun it is to just dance. So I headed for the dance floor, not needing a partner, not caring who was watching, just going to move my body and feel the music. It seemed like the DJs were playing music just for me. Either that or they were trying to wind down the night because the music shifted from hard industrial and electro to a songs that I actually knew. It began with Rob Zombie but then shifted to David Bowie and The Cure. Micheal Fanti practically cleared the dance floor but a lone, completely out of place, hippy chic remained to dance with me. After that, Jazz and Venus joined me and the three of us danced together until it was time to leave.

We grabbed up the equipment and headed for the car.  Back at the hotel we all cracked open a few beers and the Black Velvet I had bought earlier. Venus is a Scotch drinker so I tried to tell her it was imported Scotch; imported from Canada. It’s actually pretty tasty stuff for cheap whiskey. We all got pretty sloppy drunk and it turned into one big narcissistic love fest. We started watching old videos of past performances, each of us only watching are own performance and sharing with each other how great we think we are. But we did come to the realization that we are a really amazing band and that we do work incredibly well together. Also, we are more than just a band, we are a family and as fucked up as we are, we need each other. Whatever happens with the IRS, even if they are able to dissolve the business and in effect, the band, the three of us are going to stick together and keep making music no matter what.

So I may not have been able to meet my objective of having sex last night but I had one other goal that I was not going to let go unmet. I was determined to go skinny-dipping in the hotel pool! The pool was right outside our hotel room door. I was shitfaced drunk. It was four o’clock in there morning and nothing was going to stop me. I stripped naked, wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the pool. One quick dip and I was ready to call it a night. That’s were my memories end. Thankfully, that was also the end of the night’s activities.

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About lefreakshow
A walking contradiction attempting to make sense of this crazy world though the power of creation, exploration and communication.

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