By Scott Wells

     Well, on March 26th, BNL played a concert at the Alerus Center here in Grand Forks.  About 3,000 people showed up; attendance would have been higher, but they booked on a weekend that also featured a basketball tournament and a Bantams Hockey Tournament.  People in North Dakota are nuts about youth and high school sports (which, in my opinion, is an awesome thing - it's one of the few bright spots in this otherwise forgettable plane - or is it plain - of existence), so most of the hotels in town were booked solid, and most of the people who would have gone to BNL had pre-existing plans.

     Unfortunately, I had to work that night, so I couldn't make the show.  From what I understand, it was excellent, as their shows always are.  Everyone I talked to said that they got their monies worth and then some.  So what, pray tell, would inspire me to create this graphic?

     After the show (about 2:30 in the morning), Steve and Tyler went to the I-29 Cafe to eat with some "ladies" (I use that term loosely, because - and I'm being diplomatic - they might have been hideously disfigured 15 year old boys).  While they were eating, a couple of people approached their table to talk and were promptly ignored.  Which is fine, because rock stars or not, they were there to eat, not to gab with some drunk redneck about how "Old Straw Hat and Dirty Hank" reminds them of their dad.  The problem lies with the fact they were intolerably rude to their server - the same server who told other guests that they weren't the Barenaked Ladies so that they could eat in peace - and left a measly tip before they left.  Now, Canadian or not (and anyone in Grand Forks knows how shitty Canadians tip), they are filthy friggin rich, and they could have left a decent tip to thank this young lady for her hard work and helping them eat in peace.

     The other problem I have with these jackasses is that as they were leaving, some of the guests did indeed recognize them, and gave them a round of applause to show their appreciation for the show that night.  Now, keep in mind, this is AFTER they were done eating, and no one approached them directly, or tried to stop them from leaving.  Nope, just some applause to say thank you.  There reaction?  Did they acknowledge the appreciation?  Did they say thank you?  In a word, no.  Steve threw his nose in the air, and Tyler gave a dismissive, pregnant-ghetto-girl-on-the-Jenny-Jones-show-"no-oh you didn' " wave, as if to say, "Go to Hell."  So Steve and Tyler, all I can say in response is you can go to Hell - or Quebec, which is just as bad, only smellier since like the French, French Canadians don't bathe regularly.  Besides, It's not our fault that 10 year old kids playing hockey is a bigger draw then your show.  Besides, you're from Canada - you should understand.

     Anyway, flash forward to last night, when at about 10 pm, a big silver bus pulls in front of my restaurant.  And who is on the bus, you ask?  About ten members of the greatest funk band ever, that's who.  I'm talking Parliament Funkadelic, bitch.  It seems they were on their way to a show in Manitoba, but because of some misdemeanor charge from ten years ago, Canada wouldn't let them in.  That makes sense.  I mean, pissed-off Algerians carrying a bomb making manual are OK as far as Canada is concerned, but God forbid some Canadian children hear that "darkie" music.  And yes, I am alleging that white-bread, crusty Canadians are racist, just like a lot of white-bread, crusty Americans.

     So anyhow, after being stopped at the border and being tied up at Customs while themselves and their bus were searched - TWICE - they came to Grand Forks to crash at the Hotel behind us and get some food.  Now, if you had been tied up at Customs all day by a bunch of uptight Mounties, I bet you'd be pissed off and rather anti-social.  But P-Funk were quite the opposite.  In fact, they were all smiles.  They were charming, polite, funny as hell, and more that willing to talk to us at the restaurant.  In short, these guys kick ass.  How often does a fat, thirty year old, pasty white guy from North Dakota get to listen to Clip talk about fainting while getting a tattoo on his face because the tattoo artist hit a nerve, and then explain he was getting the tattoo because he was producing the Red Hot Chili Peppers 2nd Album, and they all agreed they would tattoo up?  How often does a guy like me get an autographed poster from Doo Doo Man?  Hell, I got a DVD from Clip, without even asking for it.  Damn, these guys are cool.

     So, in summation, here's a comparison chart for The Barenaked Ladies vs. Parliament Funkadelic: