Filthy Phil (renown lead singer of Graveyard Slut) and his wife Patty hosted the third annual White Trash BBQ in the backyard of their Hicksville home on Saturday, August 25th. After a one hour trip on the LIRR, I had the cab drop me at a 7-11 a half a mile from the place to pick up some Guinness and ice, which I added to the trash can filled with ice and beer, which was being continually restocked by grateful guests. When I arrived at 2 PM, the yard was already crowded with festive folk, made up largely of the nocturnal Motor City crowd and other guests. Loud punk rock music filled the air, as sun-starved souls gorged themselves without pause on a plethora of foods - ribs, salads, burgers, ribs, hot dogs - and beer. Familiar faces, some strangers, youngsters, oldsters, dogs, babies, all mingled in a potpourri of warmth under the perfect sky, and in various rooms of Phil's home.

The bash was blessed with the appearance of 18 bands, all of whom played with a special energy fueled by the festive occasion. The live music was started off by Sick Duck, followed by The Beauty School Dropouts, Bitchcat, The Billy Nolans, Bombshell, The Blind Pharoahs, The Chasers, Corporate Waste, Graveyard Slut, Jones Crusher, Maggot, Durty Mary, The Spoilers, The Carvels, The X-Possibles, Oscar & the Pidgeon Sisters, Deviant Behavior, and Columbia 3000 (not necessarily in that order). Two stages had been set up in the yard, so setups were done one set in advance, providing for a rapid-fire sequence of performances right up until 11 PM. The party was such a marathon, I'm sure I'm not the only one who was smashed by late afternoon, and found himself sobering up by the time it was over.

A word on behalf of Phil and his suburban life: Many New Yorkers consider civilization to end at the Nassau County border, but we mustn't allow places like the Fucking Hamptons give Long Island a bad name. I was pretty amazed to find that such a loud party could take place at all ammidst the collection of homes in the Hicksville flatlands, but Phil is obviously surrounded by some pretty cool neighbors. Only one noise complaint was called in. When the cops visited, Phil just assured them that he'd keep things under control, and there were no more complaints, even though the music wasn't turned down. After all, it's not as though he does this every weekend. It's a wonderful thing that Phil and Patty do every year (mark Aug. 24, 2002 on your calendars), and the gratitude of the punks is indicated by Phil's comment, "I don't think there was one person at that party who didn't come up to me and say 'Is there anything I could do to help'". Now that's the spirit!