The saw in this is about twice the size as the one he used live but even in this production version he still cuts the cushion off the bar stool.
We took a good bit of our earnings and rolled them right back into an
investment in the music industry. Cole and I both paid about thirty
bucks for an private concert with Stephen Tyler and his band
Areosmith. We we pleased to invite about 6000 of our closest friends
to the intimate little gathering and by the time we had all gathered
around Cole and I ended up sitting about 200' feet away from the
stage behind a couple of rather robust middle aged ladies who were
both dressed in gold foil shirts and rocked out to every song in the
deranged manner of a lobotomy outpatient. Before we got our semi
private audience with Mr. Tyler he treated us to a little set by a
lesser known band by the name of Jackyl. I think the reason why the
creatively misspelled Jackyl was less popular then Areosmith was
because they sucked. Bad. He lead out with a tune that for some
reason had not gotten a lot of radio play on the top 40 stations my
the charming name of 'Mental Masturbation'. A not catchy little tune
that must have been before its time because to me it sounded like the
cacophonic death rattlings of a garage band being run over by a
bulldozer. After a few more forgettable butt rock offerings came
their piece of resistance – 'Lumberjack'. The chainsaw in the song
was a carefully cloaked metaphor for the lead singers penis and he
was able to work in a surprising number of unsubtle saw and lumber
related double ententes. For the song's finale he brought a standard
looking bar-stool out on stage and then cranked up what looked like a
toy chainsaw which he placed in front of his hips while he gyrated
and thrust provocatively while revving the pitiful sounding engine.
While the band ramped up into a musical frenzy he gunned the motor
and attacked the bar stool in a comically under-powered display of
futility. The saw was unable to even cut through a single leg in a
reasonable amount of time so the Jackyl lead man decided to teach the
stool a lesson of an entirely less rigorous sort and cut the cushion
off with a measured motion. By this point Cole and I were laughing
pretty hard at this unintentional comedy and that got us a poopy look
from the gold plated hefties who were there to enjoy a little hard
rock and not listen to a bunch of smart-asses laugh at a little
impotent rock pageantry. When Jackyl was done abusing some furniture
they headed off to clear the stage for the roadies to do their magic
in preparation for some real rockers with expensive perms and
androgynous styling to sing to us.
