When my pal Bob, a local punk/metal guitar god, proposed we go to last weekend's Zucchinifest in Obetz to see a free Blue Oyster Cult show, I asked him if this was an elaborate and impenetrable joke. I mean, repeating the premise made it seem like it could have been generated by some sort of randomizing machine. When I was assured of his complete sincerity, I then asked where the hell Obetz was. Turns out neither he nor anyone I knew could tell us. Well, research proved it and the fest were at the Columbus Motor Speedway. How's that for a set-up?

Instead of humbly walking a couple hundred yards to the concert site (a baseball field), most locals chose to arrive in style.

Meandering around the "midway", I found no evidence of the fest's namesake veggie, just the usual street-fair food suspects. These proved to be quite popular.

Finally, a kind lady explained to me all the zucchini stuff (burgers, etc) was confined to a far-off building.

Unfortunately, since this was the only place to get zucchini cuisine, the slow moving lines were punishingly long. I didn't have the patience to wait.

Fortunately, the beer lines were much shorter, moved much quicker.

I hadn't listened to BOC on purpose since junior high, when one of my sister's friends gave me the still great "Secret Treaties" album, a record I would privately idolize for years (it predates Queens of the Stone Age, only it's better--if you doubt this, check that ancient BOC album out).

BOC actually put on a really fun show, playing old stuff released before they sold out and poking fun at their "more cowbell"/aged rock star images. Saying "we don't get to Obetz often," they didn't just phone in their surprisingly excellent performances.

And when the band got to "Godzilla," I and the largely biker-y crowd loved it!

I heard an overly excited, superannuated fan with stunning hair tell his equally strikingly coiffed girlfriend that Blue Oyster Cult's first name was Soft White Underbelly. I wonder what some other rejected titles were: Green Mussel Society?

Personally, I'd just call them entertaining showmen from Long Island.