The Aquabats, DJ Lance and Friends Rock the Halls

Thanks to Metblogs LA, we scored tix Friday to check out The Aquabats’ famous annual holiday show at the Henry Fonda in Hollywood.

The Aquabats’ MC Bat Commander and crew.

Fellow Orange County bands Suburban Legends and Dusty Rhodes and the River Band opened the show — along with DJ Lance Rock, the host of our fave preschool show, “Yo Gabba Gabba.”

The whole Yo Gabba Gabba! gang on stage.

Yep, that’s right — Maria and I get a sitter to see our first concert together in ages, and wouldn’t ya know, we go to the one featuring characters from the kids’ show we watch with the Blogger Preschooler. As you know, we’re quite the “Yo Gabba Gabba” fans at Franklin Avenue HQ.

It felt like we were cheating on our little guy, especially when we looked around and saw quite a few hipster parents with their kids in tow. But we figured (a) the show was late — the Aquabats wouldn’t go on until 10:30 — plus the B.P. is a bit under the weather — so bringing him was a non-starter.

Brobee, attempting to keep his moustache on.

The “YGG!” characters all made it to stage to dance along to some of the show’s most popular grooves — “It’s Time to Dance,” etc. Plex also proclaimed that “This is Radio Clash” is his favorite song. Poor Brobee’s mouth kept coming off. And I marveled that all of the characters stayed so long in costume — as I learned from our visit this summer, it’s so hot inside that the actors who play Brobee, Muno, et. al., can only stay zipped up for a few minutes at a time.

DJ Lance and Plex bust some moves.

The crowd itself was quite a mix: Older attendees (some of whom, we learned later, were parents of the bands); plenty of aging hipsters — some with kids, most without; and a ton of teens. So many teens, it was the first time I’d seen people playing “Duck, Duck, Goose” on the venue floor between bands.

We caught most of the evening upstairs from the Fonda balcony — perfect for us old farts.

One more DJ Lance/Plex shot.

After DJ Lance, we dug the sounds of Dusty Rhodes and the River Band. The group’s mix of rock, jazz, bluegrass, country and folk comes courtesy their use of violin, accordion, organ, mandolin and other instruments.

Then, the ska-tinged Suburban Legends opened with an old Alfonso Ribiero “how to breakdance” ad, walking on stage with their own moves. They survived a bad mic to get the crowd going; lead singer Vince Walker proclaimed it “the best L.A. show ever.”

Fans flash the Aquabats sign.

And then, the main event…

We’d never been to an Aquabats show, but I’d come knowing what to expect: A lot of energy. The ‘Bats — MC Bat Commander, Crash McLarson, Jimmy The Robot, Ricky Fitness and Eagle “Bones” Falconhawk — performed our favorite, “Pool Party,” fought off bad guy White Buffalo, screened a clip from their TV pilot, and played long after the 11:30 curfew.

And Boom Goes The Radio Tower

KFI’s hopes of finally erecting a new 684-foot broadcast tower in La Mirada were dashed Tuesday, when it came crashing down. K6RIX.com was there, and took shots of the collapse (above, and below).

KFI has been broadcasting from a temporary stick since 2004, when the station’s old 760-foot tower collapsed after a small plane crashed into the tower while trying to land at nearby Fullerton Municipal Airport.

It took several years to get approval for the new tower, but construction finally began on Saturday. According to KFI, the tower had risen to about 250 feet on Tuesday, when it crashed around 2:30 p.m.

K6RIX.com reports that one person was injured, but thankfully most of the damage was confined to the tower:

Nobody was on the tower during this phase of the installation and only one person was hurt when the North/East guy structure gave away. There was some minor damage to a couple of trailers and the top 8′ of the gin pole came through a warehouse roof. Other than that, there is just a bundle of steel and ceramic in the parking lot with some damage to the enclosure wall and fence.

K6RIX.com caught a shot of the tower in mid-collapse:

Rate-A-Restaurant, Extreme Bathroom Edition

Funny enough, Maria and I thought about doing this a long time ago, but never did. Instead, new blog Restaurant Restroom Rater is doing the dirty work — and I mean that literally. The RRRater is hitting eatery bathrooms throughout Southern California, and pointing out the good, the bad… and the gross.

The RRRater’s reviews are simple, three- or four-word summaries of some of the highlights and lowlights. For example, this is his take on the The Cliff Laguna Beach (above):

.messy
.men’s
.funky shaving mirror
.adjacent stall laced with t.p.
.rr cleaning schedule needs tidying
.The Cliff Laguna Beach sunsets are phenom

Any of you have a fave or least favorite public restroom out there? I would have to say LAX’s restrooms make it tough to leave on a flight with an empty bladder. I’ve taken to just waiting until I board the plane…

The Smurfs in Orange County?

(Pic: Don Kelsen/LAT)

Most bizarre story of the week — and this is Monday, so that’s saying a lot — goes to the mysterious deep forest figurines in Orange County.

Mike Hazzard and Ed Schlegel discovered a well-placed group of figurines — made to look like a village — somewhere in the Santa Ana Mountains. Whose figurines are these? How do they maintain it? Is Smurfette really as hot as we all remember? The L.A. Times writes:

They were bushwhacking through chaparral in search of endangered southern steelhead trout when they came across a small clearing in the San Mateo Wilderness north of Camp Pendleton, about 15 miles east of San Juan Capistrano and near where Orange, Riverside and San Diego counties meet.

Nestled neatly under the sage, in a hard, flat area choked with dust, was a tidy village of ceramic houses and bunny figurines. The eight houses stood 5 to 7 inches tall and featured chimneys and steep roofs of gleaming green, yellow and pink. Scattered among them were 11 miniature bunnies.

“I just looked off to the side,” recalled Schlegel, 65, a retired Los Angeles County fire captain who spotted the village first, “and there were the little ceramic houses like gingerbreads. I thought, ‘This is strange’ — it was definitely placed there, but who knows with what intent?”

Noting its exact location on a map, the friends returned to their hidden “Bunnyville” several times over the next few years, and each visit gave the mystery new depth. They noticed that the toy village was well maintained; the foliage surrounding it neatly clipped and the ceramic houses polished and cleaned. Once they found footprints.

“Obviously somebody holds it in high regard,” Hazzard said. “It’s definitely someone’s secret spot.”

At social gatherings they’d talk about the bizarre ceramic village with their friends.

Then one night Schlegel told the story again.

“Sounds kind of like something I saw,” one man replied.

What he saw, it turned out, was another miniature ceramic village, this one with more of an alpine theme, in the same forest, atop a mossy rock ledge.

“I was amazed,” said John Kaiser, 67, leader of the Sierra Club team that had come upon the alpine village more than a year before.

The Smurfs in Orange County?

(Pic: Don Kelsen/LAT)

Most bizarre story of the week — and this is Monday, so that’s saying a lot — goes to the mysterious deep forest figurines in Orange County.

Mike Hazzard and Ed Schlegel discovered a well-placed group of figurines — made to look like a village — somewhere in the Santa Ana Mountains. Whose figurines are these? How do they maintain it? Is Smurfette really as hot as we all remember? The L.A. Times writes:

They were bushwhacking through chaparral in search of endangered southern steelhead trout when they came across a small clearing in the San Mateo Wilderness north of Camp Pendleton, about 15 miles east of San Juan Capistrano and near where Orange, Riverside and San Diego counties meet.

Nestled neatly under the sage, in a hard, flat area choked with dust, was a tidy village of ceramic houses and bunny figurines. The eight houses stood 5 to 7 inches tall and featured chimneys and steep roofs of gleaming green, yellow and pink. Scattered among them were 11 miniature bunnies.

“I just looked off to the side,” recalled Schlegel, 65, a retired Los Angeles County fire captain who spotted the village first, “and there were the little ceramic houses like gingerbreads. I thought, ‘This is strange’ — it was definitely placed there, but who knows with what intent?”

Noting its exact location on a map, the friends returned to their hidden “Bunnyville” several times over the next few years, and each visit gave the mystery new depth. They noticed that the toy village was well maintained; the foliage surrounding it neatly clipped and the ceramic houses polished and cleaned. Once they found footprints.

“Obviously somebody holds it in high regard,” Hazzard said. “It’s definitely someone’s secret spot.”

At social gatherings they’d talk about the bizarre ceramic village with their friends.

Then one night Schlegel told the story again.

“Sounds kind of like something I saw,” one man replied.

What he saw, it turned out, was another miniature ceramic village, this one with more of an alpine theme, in the same forest, atop a mossy rock ledge.

“I was amazed,” said John Kaiser, 67, leader of the Sierra Club team that had come upon the alpine village more than a year before.