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An In-Snide Look #51

By: Darrin Snider (darrin at indyintune dot com)
Sunday, January 19, 2014 9:30:00 AM

  

Oy vey, I think it's safe to say that if you wake up missing a body part, then it was a successful party.  Last night was Jamie Jackson's 33rd birthday bash Jamie being the skin basher for Swig, general manager of Sam Ash Music, premiere sponsor/supporter of Indy In-Tune Radio, and basically the nexus of all things local music as far as I'm concerned.  Anyone who knows Jamie knows of his fondness for the EDM milieu, so it should be no surprise that the part was held at the Vogue, where he is apparently in some secret club cult that affords VIP treatment to him and anyone he points at.  Just sayin', any time Jamie asks you to meet him at the Vogue, just go.

This party was, of course attended some of whom I consider the elite of the local music scene, including members of Coup d'Etat, Farewell Audition, Minute Details, Thursday Book Club, etc.   Okay, so it seemed to lean a little heavy on bass players, but those bands feature some killer bass players anyway.  This unique combination of talented musicians were together able to answer the time honored question of, "Does handing balloons out to random hot chicks who are way out of your league in any way negate your disadvantage?"  (Answer: not at all.)  At the same time, many new mysteries were raised, such as, "Where did the girl known only as 21' learn her technique, and how the hell does she manage to remain vertical dancing around in stiletto boots when it's nearly midnight on her 21st birthday!?"

Now, last time we did this, I seem to recall the silly barricades that they put around Jamie confounded me, and my attempts to bypass them resulting in me tripping and falling down a flight of stairs and completely fucking up my ankle (which is still swollen three months later, though it doesn't actually hurt any more).  That sort of cut the evening short, since my car was parked about a mile away and it was really a footrace to see if I could hobble back there before my foot swelled up to something larger than would fit in my shoe.  This time around, I figured I'd avoid injury by being much more careful about stairs, alcohol consumption, and who I associated with in general, if you take my meaning.  In fact, I managed to get out, take in a full week's supply of Vitamin C, and get home with no real injury to anything except my pride.

Well, that's not exactly true.  I'm also missing the toenail on my left little toe.

Seriously, I've been partying for decades, and while I can name six or seven times I've severely fucked up an ankle in the middle of a party (this is largely why I don't dance), I've never actually completely lost a toenail.  The whole friggin' toenail tip, quick, cuticle and all just gone.  It was attached to my toe when I put my shoes on before going out.  It was gone when I got in the shower this morning.  Its exact location is completely unknown, but a quick search ruled out socks and shoes, which were worn the entire time, mind you (not that kind of party).

Point being: Jamie Jackson owes me a toenail!


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