Fast-forward to this past Tuesday night. I was sitting in my living room watching My Name Is Earl when the Ghost of Christmas Past visited me. Bearing a strange resemblance to Dog Chapman, the Ghost duct-taped me to my La-Z-Boy, pried my eyes open with clamps and forced me to relive all the shitty things I've done over the years. It was absolutely horrible, man. Horrible. Turns out I fell asleep with the TV on and was just having a fever dream. But it got me to thinking: That Jason Lee fella is on to something. So I decided to give Dellinger a call to try to make amends.
Westword: Sorry about trashing you in my column a few years back, Chief. No hard feelings, eh?
Chris Dellinger: No hard feelings whatsoever, bro.
It's been a long time since I last spoke with you. What bandwagon are you -- er, sorry, there I go again. What I meant to say was, what band are you in these days?
Snapstick Dynamite and Dos Locos are the main things I'm working on right now. Snapstick is a punk-metal hybrid, sort of loud and obnoxious. And Dos is just straightforward hip-hop, with nothing else.
Nice. Hey, speaking of trash, I understand you've gotten Blister back together for a White Trash Christmas reunion. Isn't it a little premature to be digging up that dead horse? I mean, it'll be at least another decade before rap metal is cool again.
[Laughing] It's never too soon to dig up a dead horse. Matter of fact, the sooner you dig 'em up, the more fresh they are. People still haven't forgotten.
So what, exactly, is a "White Trash Christmas"?
It is the gaudiest, most offensive show on earth. We're doing two sets, with about four songs from each CD we've done. The first set's going to be the newer shit with the new-school players. And the second set will be the Philo and Pfeiffer years. It'll cover everybody that put in a good amount of time in Blister.
Is the show meant to reflect Christmastime when you were growing up?
Of course. Where do you think the inspiration came from? It's pretty much the exact same thing: Plenty of drunk relatives falling all over themselves, presents wrapped in newspaper, somebody making a complete ass of themselves, NASCAR on TV -- you know, the typical family fun stuff.
Sounds like good times.
Yeah, it should be retarded.