Keeping it local

“…And another thing about Richard Nixon.”

“…And another thing about Richard Nixon.”

Yokel papers
I recently read in a publication that it was “100% local unlike other media in the market.” I was confused, because I could have sworn that there were multiple publications in Chico that are 100 percent local … why, this publication right here, for instance, which came to be in 1977 after the editors decided to take the Chico State student paper off campus.

There’s also The Orion, which formed locally after The Wildcat became the Chico News & Review. And, until it recently decided to call it a day, the Chico Beat was also 100 percent local, built from the ground up by former longtime CN&R editors Tom Gascoyne and Josh Indar.

But there was something that baffled me even more: For such bold statements about being local, and having its pulse on the “scene,” I couldn’t understand why in the last three issues of this publication I was reading reviews for shows at Shoreline Amphitheatre and the Concord Pavilion—both in the Bay Area—as well as Sleep Train Amphitheatre in Marysville and Golden Gate Park, plus another “scene” report from the 2008 summer Olympic games in Beijing.

I’m beginning to think that the word “local” might have a completely different meaning for those who are hip and cool and slightly delusional. Maybe “local” actually means “hella rad.” Let’s test out my theory. Simply replace local with hella rad in the following statement: “100% local unlike other media.” Now it makes perfect sense. Gee whiz … I’ll figure it out one of these days.

I hate that Murphy guy
Last week I wrote a column about my slightly obsessive tendency to correct grammar on signs, menus, and everything else that has words on it. I even called out the Typo Eradication Advancement League on a missing period on the group’s Web site. I then proceeded to include a typo in my column when I was writing about Sarah Palin’s daughter, who is going to marry the young gent who knocked her up. I wrote that her daughter was “marring” the guy, which, I guess technically isn’t far from the truth. I feel so unlocal.

But, I must give credit where credit is due. The faux pas was caught by two people: former associate editor and all-around foxy nerd Devanie Angel and longtime CN&R contributor and curmudgeon-at-large Miles Jordan. I, once again, bow before you both.

Still smokin’ … again
About a year and a half ago, I interviewed Cheech Marin, who was doing standup with a group of young comics at one of the local (i.e. hella rad) casinos. I tried not to pester him too much about his past with Tommy Chong, but I had to ask him if the thought of rejoining his doobie-wielding cohort was a possibility.

“I’m very happy to leave Cheech and Chong where it is. I’d like to leave a good-looking corpse,” he said.

Well, the smell of green must have finally gotten to him, because the duo plans to head across the country for the Light Up America tour, which will capture their greatest hits for the first time in 25 years.

I saw the press conference, and I must say it was … kind of awkward. And I think “awkward” these days is supposed to mean “funny.” I think.

Hella local
A few things that belong together, and are truly local in both senses of the word, are Red Giant, Dr. Yes!, The Shimmies, Surrogate and Café Coda.

There’s a giant in my bathroom!

Red Giant is celebrating the release of its first EP, You Sir, Have Falsified the Future, Saturday, Sept. 13. It’s an extra-special occasion because the band is playing with its pals, and the show is also doubling as a benefit for Café Coda, one of Chico’s nicer venues/breakfast spots, and a place that has served as a cozy home for all the bands involved. Show starts at 8 p.m., and donations of $5-$10 will be accepted.

I am so unlocal
Well, I done did it. And when I say “it,” I mean “it.” At the end of September I’m going to pack up my things and become the ultimate Chico rock ’n’ roll cliché by moving to Portland, Ore. It’s for very good reasons, and I’ll divvy up more details in the coming weeks.

It’s bittersweet, to say the least. Somebody please hold me.

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