I would really like to say that I went to see the sweet State School Bruncheon on Sunday at an apartment in the Cannery. But I can't say that, because I didn't go. You see, I wasn't invited. Apparently I am not cool enough. Thanks a lot, State School!I can only imagine the fancy brunch meats and cheese trays. I bet there were vegetarian and vegan options as well as a plethora of succulent lunch meats, waiting to be gobbled up. Plates of carrots and broccoli, soy milk and tofu! Oh, how I can almost taste it! Sweet honey hams and sugar plums. Mountains upon mountains of mashed potatoes and gravy. Tendrils of green beans for as far as the eye can see. What a lunch would be concocted for the masses of State School fans! The aroma from pots of the finest espressoes east of Pacchia would fill the air whilst the sweet sound of kazoos and hand-claps buzz buzz buzz in my ear.
I bet that only the coolest cats were there. The elite few, the privileged ones worthy enough to have been told the access code to enter the building and break bread with the band. Girls wearing colorful dresses sporting septum rings would sip chai tea and whisper in awe of the beautifully sculpted crab cakes. Brandon Hawk and Joe Anderl's 1984 NFL Draft would talk quietly in the corner, praising the bran muffins, waiting for a chance to escape so they could split an American Spirit cigarette. I bet the ever-questionable Jeremy Price was there, snacking along side of that old guy with the glasses and Grey hair who rides a scooter.
Ok, so I may not be the coolest guy in the world but I can tell you this for sure: I know food. And even though State School reminds me of being five years old, I doubt their performance would have been as good as the brunch.
