My cover story for last week’s Arkansas Times:
She’s about 5’4″ with blonde-streaked hair and, on some days, bottle-tan skin. She supports conceal and carry rights, touts Christianity on Facebook, makes public appearances in polyester blend and employs phrases like “gotcha” when presiding over city council meetings. Once she juggled a dual management role, overseeing both her daughter’s swim team and her husband’s business. She spends her days composing termination letters for directors of city departments and peppering city hall with GOP figureheads. Dollar Store buzz is she’s got her sights on the mansion. No, not the Hurricane Lake mansion.
Forever ago, actually. This was the first show I saw when I got back from Pakistan. The Coathangers are from Atlanta, and they all play everything (though not especially well), but they do have fun (especially, especially well), which means so does everyone else. Rock-trashtic!
Meet Rusty Coathanger. The last time I saw her, she had Blondie hair. She might cut herself onstage. But if she did, she would gush purple.
Meet Crook Kid. My bet is, she’s the shy one.
Meet the Big Bad Wolf.
Now meet her face. (I mean, meet BeBe).
There’s also Minnie Coathanger, who is mini… I suspect she’s the reason Jackson’s lady lady-lovers came out in hordes, or at least, she should be.Unfortunately, no pics of her because of angle/lens limitations (my only lens that opens wide enough for low-light clubs has, alas, a very limited range)…