"You look like something out of a bad '80s TV show!"
--The Powerpuff Girls

"You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does..."
--The Smiths, "How Soon Is Now?"

There are probably people going to retro dance nights hoping to get laid, but chances are, the people at Club Paris probably have that more on their minds than the people who go to 80s nights. The people I've encountered at 80s dance nights have been in their own universe, dancing by themselves. They can come off as creepy at first, but when you realize they won't hurt you and won't bother you, they become entertaining.

There's a guy who wears all black, with a red tie, and he has his front hair spiked a bit (his back hair is monking). And, of primary importance to his appearance, is Tammy Faye-esque mascara/eyeliner bleeding all over his face. It's for this that we've dubbed him "Eyeliner Guy." I met him once and he was a jerk, talking about how he hated the paper. He said he can't like "Boondock Saints" anymore because Hot Topic
sells "Boondock Saints" shirts and he's seen kids who haven't seen the movie wearing the T-shirts. It's for that reason that he can't like the movie anymore. Yeah, I know.

But he's entertaining, so we get excited whenever we see him at Old Wave Night. And being that we're becoming somewhat of regulars ourselves, we see him a lot.

So, last Friday, I'm doing my thing, doing the shopping cart to "Too Legit 2 Quit" and who should be behind me too close but... Eyeliner Guy. I turned around and gave him the rooster. From 360 degrees. An all-encompassing rooster, if you will. His schtick is more of a gypsy robot, I'd say. He has the mechanical moves of Max Headroom, but then he mixes in something that looks like "Shadows of the Vampire." I'm not sure this would count as a "dance-off" but it was definitely a reason to come back. He's now taken to giving me advice as to how to wear my tie. "Tuck it in halfway down your shirt," he says. "That makes me look like a tool," I say.

He says the DJs should play The Stone Roses and The Beautiful South. I'll agree with that first comment. He does a wicked flailing seizure move during The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" and he swivels his head well during any Dead Or Alive song. Which is key. And he mouths the words to just about every song.

I wish my friend Joe didn't have to work on Friday nights or else he could come film us and put us online for you all to see.

Instead, you'll just have to come visit. We can show you where Club Paris is, but it's not nearly as fun as going to Eclipse. Like, at all.

"You know, pizza's actually not from Italy. I read that Marco Polo discovered it in China and then brought it back to Italy."
--Gloria, "All In The Family"

"Great Scott. My pizza-sense is tingling."
--Johnny Bravo, "Johnny Bravo"

I've been to three weddings in the last two months, and I've been in two of those weddings. Those weddings were all in the St. Louis area, which allowed me to see my family, but it also allowed me to get to see one of my other St. Louis favorites: pizza!

Yes, I am a pizza buff. Pizza is part of my history, my lifeblood, my being. I grok pizza. Pizza groks me. It is a beautiful thing.

Erica recently posted a chronology of her history as a music fan. I opted to take this idea and tweak it a bit. For those of you who know me well, this won't be too surprising, but who cares, I present...

Evolution of a pizza enthusiast

Mid-to-late 1980s, first topping
Panera's is a popular franchise in St. Louis. We go there after soccer games. I love the pizza but realize that the sausage pellets look like rat shit.

Mid-to-late 1980s, second topping
My mom makes homemade pizza. It's cheaper than delivery or going out, of course, but it's also better pizza. The crust is made from scratch and given time to rise. The pepperoni is layered into the sauce under the cheese. And the cheese! She uses a base of provelone, followed by mozzarella and some chopped up American cheese. She leaves it in the oven until it's golden brown.

Late 1980s
The first trip that I remember going on to Shakespeare's in Columbia on a trip to visit my sister. It's a thick, chewy crust. Not too chunky but not too airy, either. Unlike St. Louis style pizza, the predominant cheese is mozzarella, not provel or provelone.

Early 1990s, first topping
My mom's homemade pizza has become the greatest treat ever. When she's says, "H.M.P" on a Friday morning, we know that means she'll be making pizza for dinner that night. The smell of flower and yeast in the kitchen before leaving for school gives me something to think about at school. ABC's T.G.I.F. line-up is bettered by Mom's crunchy crust. I recall President Bush breaking into T.G.I.F. one night to address the L.A. riots. I added extra parm to my pizza and chomped away, listening to what he had to say, hoping he'd let us get back to "Step By Step."

Early 1990s, second topping
The first trip that I remember going on to Chicago, where I have Uno's and Due's Pizza for the first time. It's a think, tall crust made with cornstarch. The cheese forms the base layer and the tomato sauce is chunky and tomato-y. No provel or provelone. Also on said trip, I first have Hi-Tops in Wrigleyville, which I like because of its thin crust, but also because it's grilled and burnt on the bottom.

Early 1990s, third topping
My dad and I go to Washington, D.C., to visit my sister. She takes me to a pizza-by-the-slice buffet for lunch. I am awestruck by the existence of such a place and I want nothing more than to try every kind of pizza that isn't gross (which to me meant vegetables and sardines and anchovies and shit like that).

Early 1990s, fourth topping
I make my first homemade pizza. I start out using Chef Boyardee kits, and then I realize that those crusts aren't airy, chewy or crispy. I begin varying my mom's recipe to add some spice and vary the cheese consistencies.

1995
My mom's wrist is shattered in three places after a car accident. She begins years of physical therapy to get back full use of her right hand. Not yet a Jedi, I take over family pizza duties.

1996
My dad and I discover that The Missouri Baking Company on The Hill, St. Louis' famed Italian neighborhood, is selling pizza dough for something insane like 60 cents a pound. Visits to my grandmother's house in Dogtown grow by five minutes so we can stock up on crusts for the coming week.

2000, first topping
I spend many a night in the pub office to put out the school paper in the final semester of senior year. Such late nights entail that we all order in, and what is easier to order in than pizza? A civil war ensues: Colin wants Pizza Hut and I find that some of the guys do not like my beloved Imo's Pizza. I am saddened when I learn that my best friend Mark is on the wrong side of that war, saying that Imo's is like "puke on a cracker." Mr. Weiman introduces us to Fortel's Pizza, which is traditional St. Louis style in that it's thin, but it's not as paper thin or crispy as Imo's. The war is ended. The pub office guys go gaga for Fortels.

2000, second topping
Ten years after my sister graduated from Mizzou, I become a student there myself. The first weekend there, Lurch, Jen C., Ochie, KT, Kat and I go to Shakespeare's for what in retrospect was probably a triple date. A triple date after knowing them for, oh, three or four days (which in college time is 19 years). The place is packed and we wait for more than an hour to get our deliciously thick and crunchy pizza. We realize that Kat and KT are foul girls of ill repute and that Jen is not. Jen is thus too boring and she doesn't survive the equation for the next Shakespeare's date. In retrospect, she got out way ahead.

2000, third topping
The FIGlets of Mark Twain are introduced to Gumby's and its everso awesome Pokey sticks. It takes me a year to realize that Gumby's is not a Columbia chain but is actually in several college towns throughout the U.S. The crust is taller but not thick. It's airy and chewy, properly risen.

2001, first topping
Rachel Ellen and I bond over our love for Imo's Pizza. We've already bonded over Incarnate, Duran Duran and Sir Mix-A-Lot, but it's our Imo's dates that save our sanity and our GPAs. Probably once a week, we order a bacon and cheese pizza from Imo's around 9:30 or 10, and we use it as break food before going back to studying. In a dorm where there is no such thing as "peace and quiet," these pizza dates become sacred and continue after the dorm and after we've left Mizzou.

2001, second topping
The era of living with Josh begins, and almost immediately so too does the era of Wiseguy's. We have grown tired of the dorm food and we don't want to walk to Schurz on Sunday nights, so we order a 20-inch untouchable. This had been a leftover tradition of freshman year when we got drunk on Neu's blueberry evil and needed grease to save us. Gumby's was a greasy pizza, but not to the extent that Wiseguy's was. It was a thin, thin crust, not able to absorb much of the sauce or cheese, so the grease and oils flooded over. The crust was not a bad one, but it was not great. It was the toppings that really worked well with Wiseguy's cheese combinations, a mixture I haven't quite figured out.

2002
Shakespeare's Pizza's $2 slices are a quick and rewarding lunch for all Missourian types, and thus it becomes a haven not unlike The Maxx. Courtney and I hash over stories, sources, girls, boys, editors, songs, etc. The slices are a little dryer than the normal pizzas, because they've been cut and exposed to air, and that almost makes them better. Getting to Shakespeare's after 1:30, when the $2 slices stopped, is a death sentence, forcing us to have to eat at Subway.

2003
CiCi's Pizza comes to Columbia. Alabama Jason and Keith share stories of CiCi's from their youth, but Hilary and I are not swayed: We eat at CiCi's three times a week. It's a buffet where you can get all you can eat and a drink for about five dollars. As Hilary says, "It attracts the dregs of society." I call it the Wal-Mart of Food. I love it anyway, though, and even Club Graffixxxxxxx tags along once (sans Reu, of course). The pizza is not fantastic, but it's cheap, and it's there.

2004, first topping
The only pizza place in London worth writing about was Snappy Tomato's down the street from my flat. It was a cheese-heavy, soft crusted pizza with a chunkier sauce. It was great by London standards, which really only had Pizza Hut to offer besides the gourmet Italian restaurants.

2004, second topping
Italy's pizzas are heaven in my mouth. The crust is the best crust I'd ever tasted, toasted and crispy but also soft, airy and chewy. The sauce's emphasis is not just the tomato blends but also the seasonings. The cheese is fresh mozzarella with a blend of other cheeses, not all baked into the pizza at the same time. I'm convinced that the pizza is a mozzarella base and that other cheeses are added through the baking process.

2004, third topping
I intern in upstate New York, where there are, on average, two pizzerias per block in the tiny town where I work. My favorite is Tino's, which serves two slices and a soda for $5. My roommate, Jack, is lactose-intolerant, but still comes out to Tino's after a night at the bars and scrapes off his cheese. I'm introduced to the O-town tradition of "cold cheese," where cold mozzarella is thrown on a hot piece of pizza. The cold cheese starts to melt in with the hot pizza but there's still a cold taste. Locals swoon over this and I wait almost a month before trying it. I love it, but stop eating it after my dad's stroke, worried that I'd be tempting fate.

2004, fourth topping
I move to the South, known for barbecue, chicken, grits, breakfast, okra, sweet potatoes and... not pizza. Scott and Janelle take me to Ultimate California Pizza, a local franchise not to be confused with California Pizza Kitchen. I've never been to California, but the UCP crust seems a bit more soft than what I've thought California style should be. Nonetheless, it's a fantastic pizza. The only late night pizza in Myrtle Beach is Pizza Shak, a dive operation whose ads on the radio blatantly tell you that the only reason you'd want this pizza is because you're drunk and no place else will deliver. The cheese is homogenous, the sauche is bland and the crust has no air to it whatsoever. And, it's way too overpriced.

2004, fifth topping
Vinnie Van GoGo's Pizza in Savannah saves my view of Southern pizza and I declare it the best pizza in the South. It's large and cheese-y but not greasy, and the crust is hard but not too hard. It's soft but not soggy. You could have it in your fridge for a few days and not notice that it was a few days old.

2004, fifth topping
Scott introduces me to Alton Brown via his TV show, "Good Eats." Janelle does not hide her dislike for Alton Brown, but I fall in love with him when he does an entire show on the history of pizza. I watch this episode two or three times, and I take notes. Within a week, I make Scott and Janelle some homemade pizza, and I even grill one of them. This marks the first time I've grilled a pizza. I think it comes out too crunchy, but Scott and Janelle don't seem to mind.

2005
Janelle moves to Norfolk and adopts Cogan's as her new pizza place. Besides the name being a cute coincidence, we fall in love with the pizza: it's thick but not too hard and they do a great job of not burning the vegetables. We enjoy this awesome pizza over some drunken Dane and Desperate Hoes, and it's still tasty the next day, when it helps us with our hangover. The pizza is a sign to me that the northeast, the midwest and the west coast don't have to be only places to find good pizza. The South and other parts of the east coast can deliver pizza that is also quality, even if it doesn't have a distinquishing characteristic like provel or corn starch.

2006, first topping
Jacksonville's pizza selection confirms that the the South can hold its own in the pizza kitchen. There are several bistro-y upscale restaurants serving pesto-y type pizzas with not a drop of mozzarella. This is sacrilege to my mother, but my boss and I make it a tradition to split one of these pretentious pizzas for lunch about once a week. I'm introduced to Pizza Palace, a local franchise with doughy, airy, chewy crust. The bubbles of air are not uniform, which is one of the gripes I have with Pizza Hut. Pizza Palace's lunch slices are good but the whole pizzas are fantastic. And they serve Yuengling, a dark beer whose hops and such works well with a thicker pizza.

2006, second topping
By the date of this blog post, I've been to St. Louis four times since January. All but one of those times includes a trip to Imo's for my favorite pizza. The non Imo's trips still involve St. Louis style pizza, such as Fortel's or O.B. Clark's. I savor the provel, provelone and the subtle basil. The thin crust is like a holy, unleavened bread for my goyim mouth. I eat it heartily, and immediate begin anticipating when I get the next fix.

2006, third topping
Jenn and our friend Melanie go to St. Louis for a math conference. Jenn introduces Mel to the awesomeness of St. Louis food, beginning with Imo's and toasted ravioli. Mel returns to Jax raving about the "square beyond compare," giving me and Jenn an idea. A week later for Mel's birthday, we promise to have some Imo's shipped out via UPS (or maybe FedEx). The Web site has an order form where you can specify what you want and when you want it. We even throw in some provel. A month later, we meet at Mel's Mandarin home, in Jax, and eat Imo's while drinking Woodchuck Cider. The only thing to make it better would have been Schlafly. I hum an Urge tune and Jenn and I talk about the Arch and what kind of parabola it is. Life is good.