House Of Tudor

Ad Hoc Committee Against the Millennium, Josie's Cabaret and Juice Joint and "Play Pretty for Baby"

So here we are staring down the double barrel of a loaded 20-Ought calendar year; it's a little difficult not to be completely underwhelmed. I mean, even if you were to have honorary membership to an urban underwater ski lodge where the booze was free all night (albeit chained to the bar), large-breasted mermaids cavorted with five-legged geckos, sparkly fish swam above sword-fighting pirates, and the great seafaring vessel U.S.S. Dammit were to sink before your eyes in the grandest display this side of Las Vegas -- I mean, even then, you might have to wonder what became of our childhood promises for the year 2000. Where are our personal jetpacks, hovercrafts, wristwatch video phones, intergalactic vacations, alien co-workers, improved health care, moving sidewalks, and programmable VCRs (with or without remote)? Of course there's more than technological disappointment with which to contend: What about the whole ancient God debacle? Little things like Armageddon and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse (from whom I have heard not so much as a whinny). Not to mention all those oversold, head-achy, balloon-drop-and-cheap-champagne amateur nights with a quadrupled door price and not a single cab in sight. It's enough to make a person want to run off to Mexico, or at the very least jump up and down, stomping his or her feet, shouting, "2000 is too feeble!" To that effect, the Ad Hoc Committee Against the Millennium has organized a loud, lively, outdoor airing of grievances. Among those with age-end complaints are the Millennial Malcontents, who claim that the change of numerals in a highly suspect timekeeping system is no excuse for the lavish excess being peddled by publicists; Futurists Ahead Now!, who demand real Inspector Gadget technology for the masses now, or at least a cool decoder ring by midnight; and S.A.M.O. (Stop Arbitrary Millennial Observances), who believe all the hoopla around our calendar year is thinly veiled prejudice against other, more ancient, calendars, and that true millennialists should celebrate the beginning of the third millennium next year, if our calendar is accurate, which it's not. In response to the media-driven hysteria of Y2K, all 2000-protesting Luddites are encouraged to follow computer systems identifying the new year as 1900 by wearing attire from the last turn of the century. Those wishing to contribute their disgust to this demonstration against time should bring signs reading "The loom is enough!" or "Teleportation now!" to the foot of Market Street, somewhere under or near the Ferry Building clock tower (depending on pretentious New Year's celebration construction or barricades) on Friday, Dec. 31, at 11:45 a.m. (during daylight, Luddite). Those with organizing questions may call 252-7459.


And now, after nearly a decade, we must say ado to Josie's Cabaret and Juice Joint. Happily, this is not another case of technology money having more bidding power than wine and laughter. In fact, the property-owning Mah family has been so supportive and loving of Josie's over the years, founder Ron Lanza stayed on nearly half a year longer than he had planned so a decent new tenant could be found. As of Jan. 1, the Zao Noodle Bar will be holding the lease, and Lanza will be taking a much needed rest before launching his career as a great Shakespearean actor. Good for Mah, good for Lanza, very sad for comedy, cabaret, and us. We have three more days to enjoy the cozy atmosphere, cold beer, and wonderful players who frequent Josie's intimate stage. On Wednesday and Thursday, Dec. 29 & 30, the creators of Christmas With the Crawfords continue their hysterical yuletide litany with White Trash Compactor at 8 p.m. Tickets are $15. On Friday, Dec. 31, the final show includes returning comedians Marga Gomez and Doug Holsclaw at 8 and 10 p.m. Tickets are $20; call 861-7933 for reservations.


They say however you feel at midnight on New Year's will set the tone for the rest of the year. Don't worry. If midnight finds you staring awkwardly into the pretzel bowl as all your friends pair up for kisses, you can rest assured that your next thousand years of solitude will at least have a good soundtrack. The new biweekly "Play Pretty for Baby" offers three decades of songs for the lovelorn, lovesick, and languishing. DJs Sabatini and Max G. will spin everything from Nick Cave to Otis Redding to the Ronettes. And chances are you'll meet someone similarly disposed for beer weeping and/or slow dancing. "Play Pretty" starts Monday, Jan. 3, at 9 p.m. at Cafe Du Nord. Tickets are $2; call 861-5016.

 
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