Chicken's on the block

LET'S FACE IT – we're an eBay nation. You can't depend on much apart from the fact that you can get a good deal on kangaroo scrotum gifts on Santa Clara's finest and most profitable Web site. We're a country of consumers, gobbling up our share of goods and then some, before we turn around and peddle them at the world's biggest garage sale/auction house. Here you're not battling Mennonite farmers over $150 drum kits and $100 cast iron stoves; instead you're throwing in for the (broken) home that once housed Eminem, or an autographed copy of James Brown's 50th Anniversary Collection, or even a Godfather of Soul bobble head. The Hardest-Working Man in Show Business has to clear house and eat.

So it makes sense in this market-driven economy that someone like Chicken John would offer up his venue, Odeon Bar, on eBay. By the morning of May 15 and three days till the close of the auction, bidding on the Mission District nightspot that nurtured various Rube Waddell, eXtreme Elvis, and incredibly bizarre burlesque acts was at $11,211.11. Those 11 cents won't be a deal breaker, though – Chicken's reserve price still hadn't been met.

But why put the homegrown space – advertised as "1 arts community. Amenities include venue with full bar, checks and endless wads of 1 dollar bills" – up on the block? Chicken picked up the phone late last week, and after going into characteristic defensive mode ("Do you want to know that I'm failing so miserably? That I failed trying to run a variety-arts venue in San Francisco, and that it was unsustainable? Or would you rather write that I'm selling the bar because of pressure from the industry? On a whim because I'm moody and sensitive?" and so on), he allowed that it's all part of some kind of grand less-than-structured scheme – to entertain us plebes.

"I mean, eBay's funny. Isn't it funny?" he asked. "I'm a showman, right? That's why I do anything. It's 11:30 at night on a Monday, and I go into 7-11 to buy a pack of cigarettes. It's show time! No one buys cigarettes at 7-11 like me – no one! I can turn parallel parking into a performance. That's the whole point of life as art. And the whole idea of living your life as art is that you have to be very full of surprises all the time."

So get off his case, will ya? It has nothing to do with the fact that he won the fight to have his longtime warehouse (and launch pad for assorted Burning Man-related projects) zoned as a live-work space. His design has been approved, and he's continuing to go through review, as a test case encouraged by California Lawyers for the Arts. It's simply, Chicken said, that he'd done what he wanted to do with the Odeon – he began booking shows there in 1999, bought it in 2001, and turned it into a profitable entity several years along. "Now my usefulness here has collapsed. The phone just rings with the entertainment now. Of course, no one can yell at people like me," he said, subdued. " 'Sweep the floor. Put the chairs up. Don't do that, do this. Blah-blah-blah.' "

Of course, the bar had his way with him too. "I'm also a little older," Chicken added. "Bar years, you know, they're a little different – it's kind of like dog years. However many years you run a bar, you, like, age six times that amount."

So buyer beware and don't say this self-described carny, who likes to embed a scrap of truth in all his fictions, never warned you. "Well, it's the end of an error – which is always a good thing!" he said. "Because that means it's someone else's time to make a mistake! Because anyone that buys a bar is making a mistake. You're not going to get in touch with your sensual being or anything. This is a despicable industry feeding poison to people.

"I did this because I wanted a stage to do shows. I'm like a middleman between people who would like to witness interesting artistic performances and people who are performing them and the people who have no representation. This is a venue, not a club; clubs are places to go pick up chicks. And I'm proud to say that the Odeon is a terrible place to pick up chicks! I'm so proud of that. I'm so proud that you cannot get laid in my bar." To find out who won Chicken's nest, check out the auction results of item 3723238741, posted for 48 hours after the bidding ends May 18.

Peep show Speaking of chicks and burlesque, Vancouver, B.C., garage-punk combo the Smugglers slouch into town and settle at Thee Parkside this week – and they come with a new contest up their sleeve. The group, which were initially encouraged by their high school class president, Nardwuar of the Evaporators, are already known for their dance contests and thrift-store trophy awards. Now they're challenging folks to "Top the Tattoo."

It all started at a particularly outrageous University of Victoria graduation party. "There were all these absolutely horny university students, and the thing just boiled down into this giant fuckfest," said vocalist Grant Lawrence, who also hosts a Saturday-night rock radio show on CBC Radio 3 when he isn't encouraging out-of-hand debauchery. "Everywhere we turned there were these young horny students having sex with each other, and this gig was just a massive grad event." He spotted one woman with a cobra tattoo wrapped around her arm and invited her up onstage, which inspired one tattooed love boy and girl after another to come up and try to top her. The pièce de résistance: a woman named Angel who whipped off her top to show off a full-chest tattoo. "I got a tap on the shoulder from bassist Beez, and he said, 'That's a new part of the show.' " So consider that a gauntlet laid before you, illustrated kids.

Smugglers play with Red Planet and Troublemakers Fri/21, 10 p.m., Parkside, 1600 17th St., S.F. Call for price. (415) 503-0393. Dr. Hal answers your science questions, Wednesdays, 10 p.m., Odeon Bar, 3223 Mission, S.F. Free. (415) 550-6994. Fat Possum Juke Joint Caravan, with T-Model Ford, Kenny Brown, Cedric Burnside, and Paul "Wine" Jones, play Tues/25, 8 p.m., Slim's, 333 11th St., S.F. $15. (415) 522-0333.

Flying the coop? Wanna squawk or crow about something? E-mail Kimberly Chun.