Bo More Mr. Bice Guy

Kelly Clarkson popped out a couple catchy hits. Clay Aiken somehow managed to morph into a creepier version of an Extreme Makeover candidate, and Taylor Hicks sang in a car commercial. From what I last heard was also ruling Hell, that silver-haired devil.

American Idolers each have to have their token "thing" they do. For Bo Bice it was long chestnut locks, neatly trimmed facial hair and a Rock & Roll attitude to match. Not only that, he was the first of the older folks performing on American Idol tapping in at a senile 28 years old.

But did Bo Bice have what it took to play at the Outlaw Saloon in Ogden? Um...I hope so, because Ogden is more than five miles away from my house and I had to sell a kidney to pay for gas to get up there.

Per the State Governor, May 24th is officially Bo Bice day in Alabama. Was it a coincidence that I would be seeing him at The Outlaw Saloon on his official day? I think fate is more like it.

The drive up was road construction riddled and that automatically scrambled my brain, causing me to surpass Ogden. It was either that or a sign that I had no business being in such a city.

As I turned around and made it off on the correct exit, the Outlaw loomed before me. The fact that it was right off the exit right next to a Flying J should have been warning enough.

Generally most stories that end badly start with "So I stopped at this country bar right off a freeway exit in a town that is completely foreign to me."

I could hear the foreboding life's soundtrack music playing in my head as I slowly made my way into the parking lot. A cowboyed male was there knocking back a tallboy in preparation for the show.

My Nissan boldly stated you’re not from round here in a sea of Fords and Chevy trucks. I parked next to, yes, a barbwire fence scenically overlooking, more road construction as daylight started quickly shifting to night.

I had a flashback of the movie From Dusk Till Dawn and was wondering if people ever truly knew how they would meet their demise based off of movie watching experience.

My counterpart for the night was wearing T-shirt of comedian Bill Hicks. Little did he become aware until we were walking to the building that this T-shirt merely had a picture of Bill Hicks on it, and simply read at the bottom:

HICKS.

And yet we still kept going. From what I was able to size up of the Outlaw, it was set up like a steak house but I had only made it as far as the cash register when confusion set in to all that needed to help me.

I tried multiple times to explain I was from City Weekly. Over the din they yelled "What? City Weekly is giving away free tickets too?" "Wait, what, City Weekly is not a radio station I ever heard of."

I reiterated several times that City Weekly was a paper, not a radio station, and that they were not giving away free tickets, I was writing an article for the show.

This is where it takes an army of people to start asking me questions about this elusive "City Weekly" paper from the Big Country that I must have been telling fables about.

The confusion became such a vast deep hole of disbelief that I said "I am going to make a few calls, be right back" which was countered with "I think that might be a good idea."

Seeing Bo Bice in concert was more difficult than getting into the White House.

As my counterpart and I sat down in the lobby, the irony of the situation grew thicker than an Ogden accent when we looked to our right at a stack of City Weekly newspapers sitting there for any patron or employee to pick up on their way in or out.

Through my barrage of phone calls, I think that cell phones become possessed in Ogden. I was calling and texting eight people in my car (where we could freely laugh and poke fun without fear of getting punched) nobody answered their calls or text messages.

Not only was it Bo Bice day, it was Nobody Answer Their Phone day.

I kept counting down the time from the moment we got there, "Well we have 1 hour and 20 minutes til the show starts.” “ It’s OK, we have one hour and two minutes" "Looks like we have 48 minutes to figure this out." Thus panning this night out to be about the most non-action equivalent of the show 24 that anyone would never see.

We figured if the cowboy in the parking lot could drink beer, then damnit, the people who couldn't even talk their way into a Bo Bice show when there were only forty people inside could do it too.

Beginning the most purposeful move of the night. The trek to the Flying J.

After pondering on whether or not to purchase a sleeveless T-shirt to further our chances to get into the show and picking up a six-pack of beer, the parking lot beer drinking car sitting commenced.

I am about the wussiest rule breaker you will ever meet. I felt like a bad 16-year-old about to get busted for alcohol consumption on school property, looking around and taking quick sips.

Since we had made the journey out there, it was worth getting out of the car to get some photos, which we did. And then the door man came out to ask us if we were coming or going.

He was essentially the nicest, and probably most intelligent person I had met at my brief stint in Ogden.

I am thinking maybe next year in honor of Bo Bice going back to Ogden, drinking a beer in the Outlaw Saloon parking lot and pouring a bit of it out in honor of my American Idol homies.
(Dominique LaJeunesse)