Dean In L.A.

We scraped together a couple of hundred bucks and saw a sellout show at LA's House Of Blues tonight - a fund/roofraiser for Howard Dean. See? I put my money where my mouth is - and got a damned fine show for it, too. It was more than Bush or Cheney can deliver for ten times the money, and the entertainment contained not one single word of GOP jingo by a country music has-been. That alone was worth the bucks. So as promised, here's what I was able to snap with my trusted Casio Exilim.


The Bangles opened. They're still hot, and having Clear Channel ban "Walk Like An Egyptian" post-9/11 gave them an even more desirable edge.


I always had a crush on Susanna Hoffs. And if she married me, her last name wouldn't change. Much. My wife would be pretty pissed, though.


(l-r) Harry Shearer, Michael McKean and Christopher Guest. The Folksmen. Yes, Shearer appeared in full female form - with heels. Read on...


A better look at Shearer. The Folksmen with Rob Reiner.


The man the crowd came to see. The place went ballistic when he came out. Anyone who thinks the wind has gone from the sails of this guy's campaign better think again. He lit the place up with an outstanding talk. He's a thousand times better than when I first saw him at UCLA several months back. And no - he didn't trash his Democratic opponents. A class guy.


This was seconds after I shook his hand. Yes, pals. I shook the guy's damned hand - the second guy in the crowd to do so (a CA state senator was first). The same hands that're typing these words shook the guy's damned hand. So no matter who you are, you're two degrees of separation from the next president.


Big Bad Voodoo Daddy wrapped up the night. I couldn't shake their damned hands - too busy playing their damned songs. And that was that. Killer night - proud to be part of it.