*** Spoiler Warning***

“I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution,” Mathew McConaughey’s Rust Cohle said during the first episode of “True Detective” but by the end of the series his philosophy reworked itself and reached a moment of contented acceptance.

“Once there was only dark,” he said before the series came to a close. “If you ask me, the light is winning.”

“True Detective” is HBO’s newest addition to the long list of shows you have to see because enough people around you have raved about it. And like most shows on that list, it’s worth it. The series tells of two Louisianan detectives (McConaughey’s Cohle and Woody Harrelson’s Marty Hart) who spend 17 years working a case involving murder, Satanism and the deranged. The final episode aired last night. Like all good finales it completed the story and left each viewer the task of piecing it all together for themselves.

Cohle and Hart spent the series tracking and searching for a disturbed mass murderer of women and children. Grotesque, gothic symbols of flat circles and crowns appeared throughout their case that created a complex and dark labyrinth for both detectives.

Parallel to this story of psycho crime is the journey of each man as he battles his demons of regret and pain. For Cohle, his daughter’s death and the acceptance of living alongside life’s darkness acted as the basis of his troubles while Hart struggled with allowing himself to be vulnerable and loving with his family. Both men’s baggage were prominent plot points in “True Detective” but these were never the reasons why you were told to watch along.

The show played a smooth bait and switch where incredible six-minute tracking shot sequences and mysterious horrors snatched our attention while the crux of the story was truly about two different men coming to terms with themselves.

What made “True Detective” stand out from other crime shows and whodunit scenarios is the way it kept it simple while persuading the audience to participate like a Sherlock on a sofa. There weren’t any major plot twists or “Don’t Stop Believing”-induced confusions in the finale. Instead we watched Cohle and Hart reach a fulfilled ending. Hart cries with his ex-wife and children, finally allowing himself to be honest and powerless among them and Cohle embraces the true love he had for his deceased daughter establishing substance in his hollow life. It’s a simple but gratifying ending.

A live band can turn an average party into something you reminisce about for years. My chumps and I fondly recall a party we attended off Hilyard during our sophomore year where a local band turned the gathering from a zero into a Robert De Niro.

Live music at a party is hard to come by but on Thursday night you have the chance to catch Lures and Blind the Thief play live—subsisting the stage for living room carpet.

Lures hail from Seattle and play poppy surf rock with a hint of grey, like catching waves on muggy morning. Their most recent single “Vacant” is commanded by turtle-jaw-tight drumming and features an instantly pleasing chorus. Download the single for free on their Bandcamp and check out their live video here on Vimeo.

Serving as openers are Trucks Go Easy and local heroes Blind the Thief. Thief released their second EP Beat Museum last December and  shows how the band is progressing towards the right direction taking their perfection pop into areas of psychedelic euphoria.

The gold sounds and playful rowdiness found at a party with live music is unmatched and you’ve got to experience it at least once in your college career. Just remember that the hosts of the show are putting their necks on the line so respect them and don’t steal their shit.

Lures, Blind the Thief and Trucks Go Easy play at 18^th and Harris Alley on Thursday, Feb. 27 at 9 p.m.

Luis Dubuc, the man behind the indie pop/electronica project Mystery Skulls, isn’t afraid of embracing his inner geek. “My nerdiness knows no bounds,” he tweeted last Wednesday. And he doesn’t stop there. Take the name he chose to represent his music — Mystery Skulls — and the cover to his only release: 2011’s EP is of the famed children’s TV show villain Skeletor. Dubuc doesn’t fear dancing all by himself. But with his throbbing bass lines and fairy-dusted hooks, he won’t be the only one expressing himself on the dance floor.

Joined by fellow electronic pop wizard Robert DeLong, Mystery Skulls is set to ignite Portland’s Star Theatre with kerosene cans of synthesizers and bass. DeLong’s mantra is “Did I make you fucking dance,” and you can anticipate a resounding yes.

Before there was Mystery Skulls there was The Secret Handshake. Dubuc’s first musical project was geared toward contemporary soul glazed with an electronic configuration. The Secret Handshake saw moderate success throughout the 2000s, but Dubuc abandoned it for Mystery Skulls in September of 2011 when he tweeted, “So by this point its obvious but TSH is pretty much over. done with the past. proud of what i accomplished but ready to move on.” Four months later he released Mystery Skull’s EP.

The standout track from EP is the lovely and funky “Beautiful.” Featuring an instantly catchy staccato piano melody and lyrics like “You know my love is true/ Because it only works on you,” “Beautiful” is one jam that will keep you moving, waving away the thought that your body is tired from too much dancing.

Both Dubuc and DeLong record and play every instrument on their records as well as have a history in drumming. Their songs lead with a heavy beat or the crack of a snare, two sounds that are the bread and butter of dance music.

The marriage of vintage funk and synth-pop is a holy matrimony with Mystery Skulls. Dubuc digs deep in the crates to find inspiration and grooves to match. Last January, he tweeted out “Current headphone jams,” with a picture of “The Saga Continues” by electro funk musician Roger Troutman.

The week is long and the weekend ends too fast, so when any opportunity arises to spend time on the dance floor, with the vibe out and flowing, you’ve got to take it. Mystery Skulls and Robert DeLong are two rising artists in the land of electronica so don’t miss this opportunity to say, “I saw them first” in the city that coined the phrase.

Mystery Skulls plays with Robert DeLong 9 p.m. Saturday Jan. 25, at the Star Theatre in Portland; $13.

**Spoiler Warning**

The credits began to roll and I left the theatre feeling as if I had been swindled, similar to how an eager, low-level investor feels after watching their penny stocks fluctuate only to ultimately disappear. The Wolf of Wall Street played me and I lost a movie ticket and three hours — but that’s the point. And that’s why this film is something short of brilliant.

If you plan on seeing it, I’d advise you to stop reading right about now and return later. The best part of the film is the last few seconds and I don’t want to ruin anything, though it’s not like there’s a twist ending where Leonardo DiCaprio’s character Jordan Belfort ends up being a woman or that Severus Snape was good all along. This is the kind of ending that requires hours of waiting and in the last moment before the credits appear you see that it all makes sense.

“Do you know what a fugazi is?” Matthew McConaughey’s character asks an innocent Belfort as the film begins. “Fufazi, fugazi. It’s a wazi, it’s a woozi — fairy dust.” McConaughey explains that in this game of stock exchange, the broker’s goal is to keep their client on a financial carrousel for as long as you can. Fool them into thinking they’re winning when in fact the broker is gaining loads of money in commissions. Right there in the Kanye-charged trailer is The Wolf of Wall Street. This film is a cinematic stock exchange scam where the viewer sits through three hours of flashy, colorful sights only to realize in the end that the movie was just a ploy set on taking your money and time and if you let it, your cinematic dignity. Way to go, Martin Scorsese you old-timer.

The Wolf of Wall Street has little or no character arc and few Raging Bull, Goodfellas cinematography scene stealers. The movie, in and of itself, is about getting people to buy things they don’t need due to false expectations and then dancing with the profits — which is exactly what Jordan Belfort does with stocks. The Wolf of Wall Street breaks the fourth wall and it too scams its investor.

But instead of feeling like I’ve had some sneak in my cookie jar, I give praise to the film. It reminds me of Modest Mouse’s hit “Float On,” when it says, “Well, a fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam/ It was worth it just to learn from sleight-of-hand.”

The context of the story is very simple, it’s three hours of eye candy. I saw enough naked women that after awhile it wasn’t awkward sitting next to my dad and there was so much cocaine and Quaalude abuse that Pope Francis might even consider a dabble. Every 15 minutes an exciting sequence would occur that would make you forget that your butt hurts and that it’s time for the film to end. The one true moment of the film happens when Belfort is explaining to the camera how a company can go public through an IPO but then stops suddenly and says that we (the audience) aren’t interested in things like that and whisks us back to a story of debauchery. Jonah Hill is a great comic relief but I’m sure the actual Danny Porush, the character in which Hill portrays, is pissed that Judd Apatow’s fat guy plays him.

Investors are just pawns used to spin the carrousel and after an elongated ride the story concludes with Belfort conducting a Get-Rich seminar in New Zealand. He goes around the audience and asks attendees to “sell him this pen.” One-by-one he asks the classic seller’s question until the camera pans up showing the audience entranced by the wolf’s technique. Their faces are stoic and stupefied, just like everyone’s in my theatre. One dude next to me even let out a Eureka– moment “oohh” capping the experience. He was played, I was played and the winner is The Wolf of Wall Street.

Follow Silas Valentino on Twitter @SilasValentino

Seeing Aaron Carter live in 2013 is kind of like an acid trip — but a bad one. Not the self-realization I-should-go-to-dentistry-school kind of trip, more like the I-am-witnessing-the-disintegration-of-a-human-being kind of experience. But hey, at least Aaron Carter was all smiles throughout the show.

Eugene marks Carter’s 129th show on his After Party Tour — a truly fitting tour name. Since February, Carter has been touring the United States and Canada and he tends to visit college towns. In the past week, he’s performed in venues near UC Santa Cruz, Cal Poly and Oregon State. He knows his crowd and he knows how to handle them. An extra $50 earns you a backstage pass for a meet and greet.

Though I fall in the right age demographic of who would attend an Aaron Carter concert, I’m not the target gender. These shows are for the ladies and he sounds well prepared.

“The tour is just my way to getting back to my fans I haven’t seen in a long time,” Carter told the Emerald earlier this week. “Since I turned 18 I’ve been taking all the steps that are necessary to get me back out on tour.”

I mean, c’mon. Since he was 18, and since his fans turned 18, this dude has been dogging to get out there and replace statutory with sex. And his fans are there to compliment. I saw two girls flash Carter while he was on stage.

Now I don’t mean to bash any person who makes out with Aaron Carter on his tour. I mean, if Jamie Lynn Spears came to Eugene looking haggard and desperate and she pointed to me to come backstage, yes I would most likely oblige. It’s just that the previous situation is a hypothetical, and it’s a reality that women our age are fussing about sleeping with Aaron Carter on his tour. There’s nothing wrong with making out with someone just for the novelty aspect, I just think it’s funny and should be discussed.

WOW Hall was packed but it wasn’t spilling out. Everyone could be trusted because no one was over 30 and estrogen was in a seller’s market. I couldn’t catch the opener, Portland’s The Ecstatics, but judging only by their press release photo and the fact they opened for Aaron Carter, Lorde better watch her throne.

Backed by just a black and white American flag, Aaron Carter appeared solo and commanded the stage, somehow managing to create enough hand movements and erratic jumps to last an entire performance. He wore mainly black including a baseball cap that looked as though it was strategically placed on his head, ready for a quick removal to help emphasize a lyric someone wrote for him 13 years ago about a love Aaron Carter probably never knew.

Besides the obvious choices, if you had to describe Aaron Carter in one word it would be “calculated” (ironic due to the fact he is currently broke). The man knows what he’s doing. He knows when to remove his shirt, causing WOW to erupt in “woos.” He teases the crowd and who could have guessed the reception.

I don’t have too much to say about the music except for the fact that my ears are still ringing so there must have been some.

He was very kind to the crowd and appeared genuinely touched that we all chose this over Drink Wheel at Agate Alley. “I love you guys so much,” he showered frequently in between songs, occasionally handing out roses. Two separate times, fans hoisted themselves up on stage to be graced by Aaron Carter’s presence, one bypassed the singer and went straight to snapping a once-in-a-lifetime selfie but I’m going to bet it came out blurry.

And now for the part when I sum up the show in some allegorical hyperbole. Half of the Aaron Carter’s lyrics were lip-synched. I don’t blame the dude, nothing sounds more creepy then hearing lyrics like “All the fine girls couldn’t turn it down/ All I gotta to do is get my parents out” through a deep, 26-year-old voice. But at the end of the day, lip-synching is fake and is just a ploy. The singer knows what they’re doing isn’t real and the listener nods along. Together the two create a fictional experience that is just for show. Aaron Carter performed his side of the concert agreement perfectly and it was easy to compare him to a freak on a stage at the circus. But this is the part when I say, while we’re laughing at him, he’s laughing back all the way to the bank. Yet, as of the day of the concert, the man filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy. Lip-synching is a temporary fix for a permanent wound. Aaron Carter is a has-been that never was.

But fuck, what do I know? He killed it in terms of entertainment. For 45 minutes, nothing was more exciting or riveting than watching Aaron Carter dance and sing to an audience of fans who were too old to witness his old brother’s group perform back in the golden age of boy bands, and are too young to confidently enjoy One Direction today. His show was a magic trick in which everyone knew what was going to happen next and how it was going to be executed — but hey, no one can do it like Aaron can.

The Hope Theatre was packed with students spilling into the aisles as they crammed in to hear Kaitlin Olson and Rob McElhenny, the actors and creators behind “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” speak and discuss their beloved show.

The roughly hour-long event was a success filled with countless laughs and even sincere tears. The event was presented by UO’s College of Arts and Sciences, Cinema Studies program and the Department of Theatre Arts, the very school Olson (or “Sweet Dee”) graduated from in 1997.

Paddy’s Pub and Charlie “Black Beauty” shirts were spotted and surprisingly, only one Greenman was present in the audience. “It’s Always Sunny” has a strong fanbase who frequently go the extra mile to show support and this was the case tonight. Students were excited and respectful and ate with glee every word the two actors expensed.

Opening the talk was UO’s Absolute Imporov, of which Olson is an Alma Matter. The student comedy group killed it with hilarious improv games and one-liners.

When time came for the main event, the audience quickly rose to their feet to welcome Olson and McElhenny. Olson even left for a quick round-two entrance.

Moderating the event was Dr. Michael Aronson, UO’s Cinema Studies Director, who swiftly guided conversation and discussion. He was even comically self-deprecating, admitting that he had to binge watch 60 episodes the night before just to catch up. “You guys know more about this show than I do,” he told the crowd. “I’m just a lion tamer.”

Topics ranged from how the show is crafted to how Olson was able to fashion Sweet Dee into the funniest woman on TV. “You don’t have to write for a funny woman,” Olson said in regards to when the writers were struggling to how to write her character. “You just have to write for a funny person.”

Olson and McElhenny, who are married outside the show, have dynamic chemistry and it was impossible not to be entertained by their back-and-forth conversations. They would frequently refer to the massive amounts of hard work it takes to make a show. But they were quick to disclaim that it’s not hard, “like how construction work is hard. Or putting up shingles in Philadelphia during July hard,” joked McElhenny.

The two actors spoke very candid and frank and didn’t shy away from any presented topic. “How I met Kaitlin?” asked McElhenny. “I hired her. I hired her to be my Sweet Dee.”

As well as how the show is able to maintain its success. “The most important thing about a sitcom is the chemistry with the actors,” Olson said.

Olson was very honest about her childhood and lack of self-confidence while growing up but she used it as a device for inspiration. “Make yourself laugh rather than trying to make someone else laugh,” she said.

The floor was then open to students to ask questions and they ranged from specific queries about the show to the actor’s themselves.

One student asked Olson who she would “Fuck-Kill-Marry” in regards to the other actors in the show. Another asked how McElhenny was able to successfully gain 60 pounds for his role as Mac.

The most positively startling question came from student Mia Schauffler who asked Olson her advice for students with big dreams from small towns. Schauffler informed Olson that she is a role model for UO students who often refer to her for inspiration. This comment caused Olson to wholeheartedly tear up and express gratitude to the aspiring writer.

Olson reflected fondly upon her time spent here at UO. “Sweet Dee” makes a hilarious recurring gagging face and Olson claimed, “I’ll only do it because I learned to gag at the University of Oregon.”

The final question of the night was from a student asking if the two were planning on going out to the bars in which Olson responded with, “We didn’t come here for this. We came here for Rennie’s!”

Kaitlin Olson and Rob McElhenny, actors and creators of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” sat down with the Emerald to talk about having sex in the car, Myspace-stalking and how Eugene and UO have changed in the past 16 years.

Are you guys nervous to be interviewed by the Emerald?

Kaitlin Olson: “Yes. We put new deodorant on the way over.

When was the last time you were here?

K.O. “He’s actually been here … ”

Rob McElhenny: “I’ve been here a few times. We drove up to see them (Olson’s parents) in Portland, maybe a little less than a year ago. We stopped in, stayed here for the night.”

K.O. “We got pregnant on the — I got pregnant. We did it together but I was the one who ended up getting pregnant on a road trip to Eugene.”

R.M. “It may have happened here.”

K.O. (Pointing over to her parents seated off to the side) “That’s my mom and dad, everybody. We had sex.”

Gross. In the car it sounds like.

(Laughter)

R.M. “So, what do you got?”

K.O. “What do you got, you guys? Have we started?”

So as an official opener, thank you so much for letting us speak to you guys.

K.O. “I’m honored. It’s the Emerald. Are ya kidding? I still feel like I’m about 21, maybe 22. Or not.”

Well, besides the fact that you look like a bird.

K.O. “Thank you. A baby bird.”

Why did you choose the University of Oregon?

K.O. “My dad went here! That was a big reason. I also was a very shy kid and I didn’t really want to leave home. But I kinda wanted to and this was only two hours away (I grew up in Portland) and they had a good theatre program. And it’s a beautiful campus and a great college.”

R.M. “Your freshman year, weren’t you coming back and forth most weekends?”

K.O. “Yeah yeah, most weekends I went home.”

Laundry?

K.O. “Not laundry, just I had a little homesick. Yeah, I really love my mom and dad.”

R.M. “Every weekend?”

K.O. “No. Not every weekend. You always say that. Uh, you know. A couple times I went home to see my parents because I missed them. It’s not weird. I didn’t have Skype back then.”

Yeah, 1997.

K.O. “We don’t have to keep throwing out the year … ”

And your age is … Being born on August 18, 1975 …

K.O. “Woo, you really are gonna do that to me. Okay.”

Funny enough, not to sound like a nerdy fan, but I watched the first episode when it aired on FX all those years ago. Like these were the Myspace days.

K.O. “How old were you?”

Too young to be watching this show … So thank you for the abrasive language. I was watching the show and this was when I had a Myspace and I’m like, ‘Oh how neat.’ So I actually Myspace-stalked you guys with your actual profiles and that’s how I found out that Charlie and the Waitress are married in real life.

K.O. “Yes!”

R.M. “That was back when we were on social media. I had a Myspace account, like very early on.”

K.O. “Yeah, he and Glenn (Howerton) used it to find ladies. That’s what you did.”

Now we have this thing called Tinder. Which just bypasses all the ‘hey can I meet you’ kind of thing.

K.O. “You just know what that’s for.”

So during your time here at the University of Oregon, do you have any awesome stories or anecdotes that would rival Sweet Dee?

K.O. “Oh … c’mon. When we were driving up to this building, I looked down and there’s this really big hill outside. (In reference to the hill in between Deady Hall and Lillis) “And I remembered rollerblading for the first time thinking, ‘I don’t know how to rollerblade but that’s cool.’ I can probably do anything because I’m 19 or 20.’”

R.M. “So coordinated.”

K.O. “I’ve never been coordinated. And it rains a lot here, I don’t know if you guys know that, and the grass is always wet and muddy. So we were rollerblading and I was going way too fast, just way too fast. And down at the bottom was a building and I was like, “I’m going to crash into that so I’ve gotta go over into the grass. And, thinking that the grass would stop me — the grass was mud so I Supermanned for probably the entire rest of the way down to the building. And I had to get home, I’m telling you, when I say covered in mud — Like blackface mud. Mud everywhere.

So Kaitlin, how do you keep up with these guys? I mean you’ve got Charlie Day, Glenn Howerton and this motherfucker who are such a boy’s club. Sweet D is constantly being put down. So in real life, you guys obviously have fantastic chemistry with each other but how do you do it in real life?

K.O. “Yeah, I don’t know that they’re not striving to keep up with me? (In real life.) I’ve never really thought about it. It’s easy.

R.M. “We’re slower than you think.”

K.O. “Do you want a real answer? Or do you want me to be funny?”

R.M. “It’s the newspaper. They want a real answer.”

K.O. “Listen, we’ve been working with each other for nine years now, which is crazy. And I think that they are three of the smartest, most talented people I’ve ever met in my life. And that’s true. And I just feel really lucky to have found them because they’re wonderful people. And I knew in the audition that we had the same sense of humor. We were just joking around together and I knew I got the part right away (which never happens) and, it’s just easy. It’s very easy on our set. We’re really fortunate that we like each other and that we’re doing something that’s funny and makes us laugh and entertaining and keeps us going. Otherwise it would be miserable.”

One thing I’m really interested in is that you graduated in 1997. Which is such an interesting year for Eugene and the University of Oregon. And the next year in 1998, that’s when that quarterback football player Joey Harrington arrived and he propelled the Ducks into the Ducks of today. And Phil Knight gave all the money and with that came national spotlight. And all these students started coming and then Eugene started to change. And now, as you’ve probably noticed, all these dumb apartment buildings are sprouting up. And I think it sucks—

R.M. “I have a question for you: why do you think it sucks?”

K.O. “It used to be this cute little town. It was like our college town. There was nothing else going on except for the college so you had that and it’s kind of like we owned the town. Now it’s idiots in stupid apartment buildings. Gross.”

My question for you, Kaitlin, continue on that thought. Since you’re a celebrity, people will think you have a much more interesting answer versus the crazy cat lady who writes into the Eugene Weekly and goes, ‘the town is changing!’ So how do you feel about it since you’ve come back sporadically?

K.O. “I think everybody loves being from their school when their school’s football team is doing well. So that’s kind of cool. I totally get it, it was definitely a life of we’ve got this cool little campus and just beyond the walls of the campus is a completely different kind of town and they stayed there and we’re cool here. So I see that that would be a weird thing but you know, who cares? C’mon. Time goes by. It’s progress. Draw attention to yourselves. Embrace it. Get over yourself, Silas. That’s what I’m saying.”

Champions of the sun and masters of both karate and friendship — Kaitlin Olson and Rob McElhenney, creators and actors behind FX’s cult hit TV show “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” are coming to campus.

Olson, a 1997 University of Oregon graduate with a degree in theatre arts, and her husband McElhenney will speak to students, faculty and staff this Friday from 4:30-6 p.m., at the Hope Theatre on campus. The event is free but attendees can expect a fatty line.

For those who are unfamiliar with the show, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” debuted on FX on Aug. 4, 2005 and has earned a surprising amount of success. Focused on four friends and the father of two characters (they refer to themselves as “the gang”), the characters of “It’s Always Sunny” live their self-centered lives while owning a relatively unsuccessful bar — Paddy’s Pub. When the show began, critics compared it to a modern-day “Seinfeld” for its hilarious examination of America’s societal warts.

From referring to Jewish people as “Jews” (“Uh, you dropped a hard ‘J’ on us.’”) to sleeping with a friend’s mother (“What are you gonna do, hit him? No, that’s a terrible idea, I’ll tell you why: It doesn’t unbang your mom”), “It’s Always Sunny” has continued to impress and astonish viewers while marinating its comedic credibility for nine seasons.

Follow Silas Valentino on Twitter @SilasValentino 

R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet” is one of the strangest and compelling pieces added to music’s art exhibit in the last decade. Try to explain the concept to your grandmother. This shit is crazy. Or it’s just R. Kelly. With 33 chapters that have been released in sections since 2005, (We were too young in middle school to appreciate it when it began.) “Trapped in the Closet” is an anomaly, as well as an inspiration for two University of Oregon theatre students.

Directing the “Hip-Hopera” are Rachel Faught and Liv Burns and “Trapped in the Closet” is their directorial debut.

“My friend Liv and I were hanging out one day last fall term and started watching ‘Trapped in the Closet’ … just because. And we got this idea as we were watching it that it would be really funny to do as a live performance,” Faught said. “And at that time we were thinking we could get people to sing it, but it slowly started developing more and more into this lip-synched production.”

The 45-minute production is riot-filled with spot-on impersonations of the hyper-dramatic story that follows R. Kelly’s Sylvester as he enters a rigamarole of infidelity, love, passion and a little person. Basically, R. Kelly rewrote Jean-Luc Godard’s “All you need for a movie is a girl and a gun” and took it to the max. “Trapped in the Closet” has more than one of each.

The actors give it their all and their expressions are impossible not to laugh along with. Even with a few bloopers, the show flowed smoothly. If this is the first time you’ve moved away from your rock, (or you’re not an R. Kelly fan) it shouldn’t hold you back from enjoying a lip-synched version of “Trapped in the Closet.” And Faught wants this to be the case.

“I think it’s going to be great to have people in the audience who have no idea about ‘Trapped in the Closet,’ and who’ve never seen the YouTube series,” she says. “So that would be my biggest piece of advice: If you haven’t seen it, don’t watch it and just come in with a fresh set of eyes and be prepared to witness something very, uh, outrageous and possibly, very likely offensive.”

“Trapped in the Closet” will be preformed one more time on Saturday, Nov. 2 at 5 p.m. in Villard 102. It’s a free show courtesy of the Pocket Playhouse.

Additional reporting done by Molly Gunther.

It took me five months to solidify an interview with the Delta Gamma sorority head cook Pat McDaniel, and only 45 minutes to get kicked out of his kitchen because of a simple discussion of politics.

Stories of this hilarious, jolly man who always has something to say from behind the counter and cooks for over 100 sorority girls made their way to me from my friend Mollie who resided in the DG house last year. When I first approached Pat the Chef (he prefers going by his first name) about coordinating an interview in May, I was with loose tongue and referred to my good friend as a dork. Pat saw nothing but poor rhetoric and harsh bravado in me and casted me away as if I were last week’s potato salad. It wasn’t until I reentered his kitchen months later with text evidence of an apology to Mollie while sporting a hand-crafted sign that read “dork” stuck on my forehead, that Pat agreed to speak with me about his life. “You don’t mess with family,” he says to me while he prepared dinner. “And I think you know that.”

He’s a peculiar man whose accent changes with the context of conversation. Moments of southern twang sneak their way into his voice as he retells a story that sounds like it’s been said countless times before, but as he leans in to tell me his wife’s name, the drawl instantly disappears and what’s left behind is a sunken tone that promises truth, respect and love. His glasses rest on the middle of nose so he can read the fine print and pinch the right amount of salt, but as he looks into your eyes, his face recalls that of the subtle beauty in a grandfather’s weathered grin. At his current height, he won’t have to duck while entering a plane and his salt and peppered beard neatly wraps around the borders of his face. The way he flips between joyful banter and serious disclosure can switch on like an oven light but he never changes the feelings he has for the people he is currently cooking garlic bread for.

“I just love what I’m doing. The girls are great to me,” he said earnestly. “They’re like my own kids and I treat them like my own kids, you know? When I can give them good solid advice, I give them good solid advice. I don’t rag at them, I don’t hard ball them, you know? I love these girls. These girls are like my own kids.”

Pat McDaniel was born in Germany in 1953. “My dad was a military man and I was born in a military base in the town of Heidelberg, Germany.”

The youngest of seven brothers, Pat can tell you his brother’s names in a flash: Sam, David, Robert, Jerry, Roy, himself and Tim. His father served as a repeated source of inspiration for Pat both in the kitchen and anywhere else.

“He was the kind of man that would give his shirt off his back for somebody. As long, as they treated him right,” Pat said of his father. “And when they didn’t treat him right, he wouldn’t have the first thing to do with them. And that’s basically the way most of my brothers are. We learned a lot from my dad and a lot from my mom and a lot from life.”

“He (his father) owned many different businesses. He was an entrepreneur and my parents owned a bakery. We used to sell doughnuts for 7 cents a piece or 75 cents a baker’s dozen,” Pat said.

“My dad was … He did everything from scratch. That’s what makes me do everything pretty much from scratch here. Because if you can do a product that is better doing it from scratch, you’re better off doing it. We’ve become a country eating too many box this and box that and canned this and canned that. I try to do everything we possibly can do here at the sorority as fresh as we possibly can.”

And his words mix well with his actions. His ribs, especially his sauce, drip with flavor. Enough so that a spill on your shirt only signifies that you can savor it longer.

His success in baking and cooking simply lies in the first bite. “I realized I was good at what I did in 1971 because I had people telling me that I was good at what I did.”

In 1967, the 14-year-old Pat that was baking doughnuts in his father’s bakery grew and simmered through multiple positions in multiple kitchens. Throughout the 1970s, he worked at a state mental hospital where he served 1,200 mouths a meal three times a day and after that, he worked at a California prison where he served 3,000. Pat enjoyed the 1980s with a restaurant he opened called All-American Taco in Atascadero, Calif., which was famous for the best burgers in town. 1994 was the year Pat turned his back on a successful restaurant and the state of California and moved to Eugene where he began working in college kitchens before connecting with Delta Gamma in 2010.

“The (DG) house director was a good friend of my sister-in-law and was needing to find somebody to cook for the place because they had problems with cooks, which it typical. Usually cooks are drunks or they’re temperamental or they’re a pain in the butt,” he said.

As Pat says his last descriptor for cooks, his tone lightly flows up signifying as though there’s a past behind his words and he’s had to work closely with these types of cooks. Possibly, working as close as to sharing the same apron.

If you ask Pat when was the moment he knew his wife Debbie was the woman for him, his reply is scattered by laughter, “When I said I do!” After he quickly cools down, he speaks honestly about the person who he classifies as his best friend.

“I can tell my wife anything I want. I don’t have to go find some guy to go confide in or anything else. If I want to tell my wife something I did when I was a rotten teenager, I can do that. And she does not look any different upon me if I did. And that’s what makes her and I as a couple perfect for one another. But like I said, my wife has been my best friend for a long, long time.”

A marriage of 40 years isn’t crafted without a wart or two popping through but Pat acknowledges his past troubles and they only intensified his family’s bond.

“She (Debbie) had numerous times she had reason to leave me and she didn’t — because she’s that good of woman. And I’m just happy as heck that she didn’t because I’d probably be dead now.”

His tone switches again, this time he ends words with a heavy yank.

“I was a drunk. I drank alcohol like it was water. Let’s put it this way, college guys didn’t have anything over me as far as drinking. I’m telling you what, up until 1992 I drank and drank and drank. That was my thing. I didn’t know how to enjoy myself without drinking and partying. To me, that’s the way I perceived fun. I didn’t find out until 1992 that you could have fun without all that junk.”

My friend Mollie — who once lived in the DG house that stands with four white pillars proudly on Alder Street — tells me that Pat’s cooking is heavy on the love and even heavier on the flavor.

“The girls in this house love what I do but they sometimes have the tendency to tell me that I shouldn’t cook so many desserts,” Pat said. “They tell me, ‘My God! When I first came here I could fit in my pants’ and I tell them (his voice changes again into a straight talk, you know he’s said this before) I love to see a girl with a little meat on her bones.’” We laugh together before Pat notices someone behind me.

“We like healthy women, right Makenna?” Asks Pat.

A young DG is grabbing strawberries out of a bowl near the kitchen. “Right,” she says as if it came equipped with an ‘Oh Pat, what are you up to now?’ kind of tone.

“That’s right!” says Pat the Chef with an excited, southern laugh.