The
2006 World Air Guitar Championships in Oulu, Finland.
No, seriously.
| Within
days of winning the nationals I took off for the summer. Between three different
bands (1, 2, 3)
I traversed everything between Mexico and Maine and while nary a night
went by that someone didn’t ask me if I was ‘the
air guitar guy’ the magnitude of the whole thing never had a
chance to sink in. With so many distractions it was impossible to stop
and contemplate anything beyond "how far is tomorrow’s
drive?" or, "egads, what is that smell?!" Five days before I was supposed to leave for Finland to compete on the international stage for the title of World Air Guitar Champion, when the rest of my life finally took a short break, it suddenly hit me. It hit me like when you realize on Sunday your big term paper is due on Monday and all you’ve done is pick a topic. With all the sleep I was suddenly losing I found
myself with plenty of time to study. Without TV or high speed internets I was at the mercy of my friends and their access to media. I had them tape the MTV music video awards, I tortured them with commercial radio whenever we were in a vehicle, and I sat at their computers streaming any air guitar video I could find. (I was hoping to scope out some of my competition but the only video I could find was last year’s footage of 2005’s world champ, The Destroyer. Conversely, YouTube was presently hosting my edited and sound-synced routine for all to see and know and improve upon.) I absorbed a lot in five days but it did little to calm me down. Quite the opposite, actually… I
left San Francisco International Airport very early Monday
morning and arrived in Oulu, Finland in the middle
of the afternoon on Tuesday. The customs officer in Helsinki
asked if my visit was business or personal. Both? Neither? “I’m
entered in a competition.”
Once in Oulu I caught the solitary bus going into town and found the hotel with no issues, except getting my damned sombrero in and out of doorways. My hotel was nice. Very nice. I was warned by Kriston, one of the US Air Guitar Organizers, that “the hotel people are very friendly and helpful and don't even mind if you have a screaming drunken food-fight in the lobby at 4AM (this has been tested).” The hotel seemed too posh for Kriston’s assessment to be true but I figure it won’t be long before we get to run some tests of our own. As I am wont to do when entering a new hotel room I took off all my clothes, dumped the contents of my bags (cowboy boots, converse hi-tops, leather jacket, denim vest, plastic eel skin trench coat, black shirt, white shirt, sparkly shirt, skinny black tie, jeans, speedo, fedora, sombrero, etc), all over the floor, turned on the tele, and took a shower. We toured Finland just over a year ago. One of our first stops was in the Arctic circle to visit Santa’s Village, possibly the most depressing place on earth. I know few people who have worked retail during the holidays that can still stomach the sights or sounds of a commercial Christmas environment. But in Santa’s Village there are people who do it year round. Oh, the horror… The only redeeming aspect of Santa’s Village were the pictures hanging outside his private photo booth. Santa with politicians, Santa with international dignitaries, Santa with N Sync, and of course Santa with metal bands:
Eventually I put some clothes on and did the second thing I always do when I arrive somewhere new – get lost. Four hours and many kilometers after leaving my hotel room I found myself on a secluded stretch of woodsy beach somewhere near a pulp mill. (That makes three different Scandinavian countries whose backwoods I’ve gotten lost in, FYI.) I took the opportunity of being alone to go over my routine, as well as riff on some new quirky white-boy Gang Of Four-inspired air guitar moves should the Arctic Monkeys or their ilk show up as the compulsory song.
Back at the hotel I ran into Alexandra in the lobby. Besides producing shows like Project Runway and Treasure Hunters she also stands as the US Air Guitar videography team. She is as friendly as she is overworked. She shared a bowl of soup and some insights with me in the hotel restaurant. This is her 4th year here and I can tell my wide-eyed excitement is not shared perhaps like it would have been four years ago. Instead she refers very sincerely to the organization and all who comprise it as “family” and she looks forward to showing her film at the Oulu Music Video Festival that coincides with the air guitar competition. It is her contribution to the Oulu-born world of air guitar “family” and after viewing it I would say it is an absolutely essential piece of the air guitar phenomenon. Somewhere after midnight Michael (aka The Destroyer) and his girlfriend, Christel, come by our table to say Hi (everyone is staying at this hotel). He is the Dutchman who became last year’s World Air Guitar Champion by performing a techno song that didn’t even use real guitar. While this might be disturbing to some purists I liked that he had a schtick and that he held tightly to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Love LOVE reckless thrashing about with an air guitar but in the last couple months I have come to appreciate people who make art out their air guitaring. Especially people who have a good sense of humor about it. They (The Destroyer included) were the ones who helped me to respect the activity as an honest form of human expression in the first place. Most anybody can hold one hand out to their side and wave the other in front of their genitals but it is the ones who have taken that, honed it, and brought it to another level that I admire most. (Geez, must every description of air guitaring sound like beating off?) The Destroyer is looking every bit the rock star with his low slung, straight-leg jeans, satin dragon-stitched jacket, pointy sideburns, Dave Vanian meets Cory Feldman mullet, and his rock’n’roll girlfriend whom he refers to affectionately as his Rockette. By most standards he is, in fact, a rock star. He is internationally known and respected as a musical performance artist, and he’s got the left-of-center vibe that usually comes to people over 30 who have chosen the difficult path of most resistance, that of following your passions. Plus he is in a real band called The Filthy Red Horse. That’s pretty rock’n’roll. Both he and Christel are very friendly and complimentary of my performance on YouTube (cut and edited by Alexandra) but I feel a bit nervous standing in the shadow of greatness. It makes me want to go back out to the beach and practice. Instead I say Good Night and try
to go to sleep. I toss and turn for a few hours but there
is no use in fooling myself. I’m not tired and plus, I found
that if you flip between channels 17 and 18 you can get a split
second of the adult channel.
Oulu
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