Very Important Job
Jan 30, 2008
Jan 21, 2008
Happy Monday
The Weekend...
Sub Zero..
Outdoor activity... Out of the question
Riding 2 miles to the gym sunday morning
I temporarily lost all feeling in my face and fingers...
Good times...
Other than sitting on my Trainer....
Trapped indoors..
I spent time doing these things...
A) Daydreaming of Backcountry Powder in British Colombia
Friends lives close and have invited, I'd be a dumbass not to go..
B)Netflix...Deadwood
Truly the most creative uses of the word "fuck" on television...pure poetry
Stay Warm....
Sub Zero..
Outdoor activity... Out of the question
Riding 2 miles to the gym sunday morning
I temporarily lost all feeling in my face and fingers...
Good times...
Other than sitting on my Trainer....
Trapped indoors..
I spent time doing these things...
A) Daydreaming of Backcountry Powder in British Colombia
Friends lives close and have invited, I'd be a dumbass not to go..
B)Netflix...Deadwood
Truly the most creative uses of the word "fuck" on television...pure poetry
Stay Warm....
Jan 20, 2008
Welcome to Detroit
Every child has his or her nemisis,mine was Brian Taylor, A tall bushy haired sixth grader with a mouth the size of a manhole cover. A real predator, He could sense my fear and preyed upon my shyness every single time our paths crossed.
I was a head shorter and unsure of my surroundings being new to city life, Brian Taylor had it in for me from the jump....Slaps, Punches and Insults would never end...The final straw was a Cruel, Cruel joke, He shows up one day in front of my apartment building acting incredibly charming......I should of known something was fishy,"There's a big football game and we need more guys, Jump on the back of my bike..I'll ride ya there". We show up to a field by the elementary school, no one's there except two of Brian Taylor's sidekicks listening to Boston on a giant ghetto blaster. Things get bad fast,a football is whipped at my head and I'm being shoved in three different directions while being showered in a cavalcade of choice insults outside my naive vocabulary. A milli-second before I endure a true beating i jet thru an opening in the fence and never stop until I get to the relative safety of my apartment and lock the door.
For weeks I avoid Brian Taylor's side of the apartment complex..he lived in the red brick buildings we called "The Reds"and I lived in the grey brick buildings shockingly called "The Grey's"..the Reds were no mans land for me...so The Grey's i stayed...
My best friend at the time Mark Oakley lived directly across the hall from me, A perfect partner for an eleven year old, We would race AFX slot cars thru flames, blow up army men with firecrackers and shoot his Crossman BB gun down the hall way under his fathers house rule we yelled"FIRE IN THE HOLE"before we blasted away at targets.
One saturday morning Mark and I were blowing up his Guns of Navarone army man set with several packs of black cat firecrackers and we heard a familiar voice outside the window three stories down, we peaked out the window and saw Brian Taylor under our carport smoking a cigarette with a friend.
I looked at Mark since he suffered similar tormenting from the person down below,We both instinctively looked over at the Crossman BB gun,our eyes simultainiously staring at the BB gun then back at our mutual shit eating grins, back and forth until I grabbed the Crossman and Mark grabbed the BB's.The gun was loaded instantly. If you have ever fired an air powered Crossman BB gun with pump action, you know several pumps is enough. I pumped that thing until it took both of us to close the pump to ready for action. I had one shot ........and ....one shot only.
We slowly and silently slid the window open about six inches and gently pulled the curtain aside just enough to acquire a sight line and fit the barrel of the bb gun out the window a couple of inches, Mark was whispering now like a seasoned soldier"breath slow,pick your target,gently squeeze".....I sighted up Brian Taylor,his back was to me,we were up three stories and across the street,he was standing still now, now was the time, I aimed between the shoulder blades and squeezed and saw the bb travel in slow motion and peg him in the back of his neck and bounce off, I slowly pulled the BB gun back and Mark quietly slid the window shut.....
The next sound we heard was the most satisfying and incredible fire truck like siren cry ever known to man. It started soft then developed into a wail as Brian Taylor jumped around like bee's were in his pant's before he broke into a sprint in the direction of the Red's............
To this day..........I hear Boston, I smile
I was a head shorter and unsure of my surroundings being new to city life, Brian Taylor had it in for me from the jump....Slaps, Punches and Insults would never end...The final straw was a Cruel, Cruel joke, He shows up one day in front of my apartment building acting incredibly charming......I should of known something was fishy,"There's a big football game and we need more guys, Jump on the back of my bike..I'll ride ya there". We show up to a field by the elementary school, no one's there except two of Brian Taylor's sidekicks listening to Boston on a giant ghetto blaster. Things get bad fast,a football is whipped at my head and I'm being shoved in three different directions while being showered in a cavalcade of choice insults outside my naive vocabulary. A milli-second before I endure a true beating i jet thru an opening in the fence and never stop until I get to the relative safety of my apartment and lock the door.
For weeks I avoid Brian Taylor's side of the apartment complex..he lived in the red brick buildings we called "The Reds"and I lived in the grey brick buildings shockingly called "The Grey's"..the Reds were no mans land for me...so The Grey's i stayed...
My best friend at the time Mark Oakley lived directly across the hall from me, A perfect partner for an eleven year old, We would race AFX slot cars thru flames, blow up army men with firecrackers and shoot his Crossman BB gun down the hall way under his fathers house rule we yelled"FIRE IN THE HOLE"before we blasted away at targets.
One saturday morning Mark and I were blowing up his Guns of Navarone army man set with several packs of black cat firecrackers and we heard a familiar voice outside the window three stories down, we peaked out the window and saw Brian Taylor under our carport smoking a cigarette with a friend.
I looked at Mark since he suffered similar tormenting from the person down below,We both instinctively looked over at the Crossman BB gun,our eyes simultainiously staring at the BB gun then back at our mutual shit eating grins, back and forth until I grabbed the Crossman and Mark grabbed the BB's.The gun was loaded instantly. If you have ever fired an air powered Crossman BB gun with pump action, you know several pumps is enough. I pumped that thing until it took both of us to close the pump to ready for action. I had one shot ........and ....one shot only.
We slowly and silently slid the window open about six inches and gently pulled the curtain aside just enough to acquire a sight line and fit the barrel of the bb gun out the window a couple of inches, Mark was whispering now like a seasoned soldier"breath slow,pick your target,gently squeeze".....I sighted up Brian Taylor,his back was to me,we were up three stories and across the street,he was standing still now, now was the time, I aimed between the shoulder blades and squeezed and saw the bb travel in slow motion and peg him in the back of his neck and bounce off, I slowly pulled the BB gun back and Mark quietly slid the window shut.....
The next sound we heard was the most satisfying and incredible fire truck like siren cry ever known to man. It started soft then developed into a wail as Brian Taylor jumped around like bee's were in his pant's before he broke into a sprint in the direction of the Red's............
To this day..........I hear Boston, I smile
Jan 17, 2008
Jan 11, 2008
Jan 10, 2008
18 and Far from Home
18 years young, never shaven, completely unwise to the ways of University life. I chose Northern Michigan University or closer to the truth, It was the only school that would have me. NMU is in Marquette, Michigan, Deep into the Upper Peninsula five hundred miles north of Detroit, This was my first time away from home..
Day one....I arrive, My neighbor across the hall is loading motorcycle parts in crates and boxes into his dorm room, He says.."My name is Rich, Criminal justice major, Nice to meet ya".
The first Saturday morning in my new environment ,I discover fresh animal pelts hanging in the laundry room and "Rich" wearing a blood covered Carhart jumpsuit, He's wielding a large hunting knife and dirty animal traps are in the sink, The smell is ungodly, I ask "What cha doin Rich ?" , He say's" This is how I make my drinking money, Trapping and selling pelts", I nod, Say something intelligent like "Oh" and back up slowly, Politely smiling. Down the hallway I discover 3 upperclassmen watching cartoons in the TV room working their way thru a half gallon of very low quality vodka with a tang like mixer, Mind you it's 9 in the morning....
Being so far north and located on Lake Superior, Marquette, Michigan reaps snow averages well beyond 300 inches. It's not uncommon for 50 degree below wind chill factors during long winters from early October to mid April....As you can imagine dorm life was a bit Surreal with so many students suffering from cabin fever. We drank like Sailors on shore leave, Blend this with the creepy statistic of 5 guys to 1 girl .....It was like a Bizzaro version of Animal House directed by David Lynch
Third story window jumps into snow banks were a popular activity, until someone hit a bike rack, Criminal justice major "Rich" on the other hand would prefer to consume copius amounts of Yukon Jack and rappel naked in work boots,gloves and a hat, running across the side of the building over the windows of the women's floor trying to woo the ladies with his Wilderdude skills and furry physique...This would usually end up in a late evening of him piecing together his motorcycle from crates drunk as hell in his underwear covered in grease and oil listening Gordon Lightfoot, specifically the song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" on endless repeat, mumbling incomplete sentences about those poor, poor bastards.
That winter thankfully became spring and Criminal justice major Rich and his bike in crates some how became a Harley Davidson and on that last day of school as we said our goodbye's, We helped him carry it down three flights of stairs and watched him ride away....waiving so long
Jan 9, 2008
Best Flight Ever
The Day After Thanksgiving 2006
Departing Detroit 6am
I get to the Airport at 4:30 am
Bleary eyed from a night out with my Family
I endure the usual shoe removal and near cavity search going thru the
Gulag TSA Security checkpoint
Finally I board my flight to Denver
I'm near the front of the plane
Optimum positioning for the post landing exodus
Being in the aisle seat makes me unhappy
I much prefer the window for maximum slothing on any flight..
Eventually the herd finds their seats and we take off
I settle in nicely
My seat is almost agreeable
My neighbors fortunately don't have any obvious bad habits
They keep to themselves...Perfect....
The air is blowing on me, Maybe, I can Sleep
I"m actually enjoying this
The flight Attendants are lovely and professional
I take a deep breath and visualize riding down amazing trails in
knee deep in pow pow on one of
the 5 mountains I have a season pass to
Almost R.E.M.
Thru my subconscious I here the pitter patter of feet coming down the aisle way
franticly bumping into seats, Causing a commotion
I keep my eyes closed,It will pass............
At that very instant......
An odd sensation hits me.....
My right shoulder,Arm and leg feel Hot
As I simultainessly hear the culprit pass me
I open my eyes and notice......
That I'm covered in Vomit....Yes Vomit
People are screaming, Moaning and starting to hurl themselves...
I feel as though I'm in the eye of a hurricane...
Somehow I stay calm..and silent
The flight attendants jump into action
Their handing me napkins, Paper towels, Disinfectant, Soda water
Someone hands me Baby wipes.....
After many work intensive minutes.......
I'm able to remove all visible signs of Chuff
People around me are completely freaking out..
I look clean,but I certainly don't feel clean..
I'm calm on the outside but losing my shit on the inside
I'm a perpetual hand washer for fuck sake......
The aroma is amazing and the person across the aisle is dry heaving while
reliving the story over and over to his Neighbor on the other side...
Until....
I look him directly in the eyes with my best Charlie Manson stare and tell him....
Actually....I can't remember exactly what I said....
But his response was.."Ummm your right, I'm sorry, I'll be quiet"
I said ....Thank you.......
The flight Attendants kept trying to help as best they could,I saw
sincerity in there eyes, They felt awful for me...
As they were sprinkling Strawberry scented carpet powder on the floor
I asked for some....To maybe disguise my aroma slightly.....and I proceeded
to rub the powder in the affected clothing...
Perfect.......
I smelled like a giant Strawberry dipped in Vomit..for the remaining
2 hours of my flight...mmm
Best Flight ever
Jan 7, 2008
Jan 4, 2008
The Good,the Bad and Trailer Hitch
Summer 1997... Eight people ....One band with five members,myself included,plus three eccentric friends boarded a modified airport shuttle bus for a"west coast tour".Our band was called "Trailer Hitch"a band that somehow developed a reputation for chaos and recklessness thru all our good times making rock music.This is a true story of the absolute Worst and Best tour of my Life,I'll try my best to remember all the details but it won't be easy,parts are blurry
......We met in front of a stinky bar called Thurstons in Chicago,somehow we talked the sound man of that toilet into renting us his bus.... not smart...We loaded up and aimed west on the 90,Barely making it into Wisconsin before the muffler fell apart.It was so loud you couldn't hear the radio inside the bus,it sounded like a monster truck rally,we endured for a couple hours but finally we decided that something had to be done as we crossed over into Minnesota
The first exit that looked promising was a Town called Luverne and as we screamed down the offramp a bird smashed into the windshield,feathers and blood everywhere,two Omens in two hours,a blown muffler and an exploding bird....no...not to us.....This was an opportunity to name Our bus.......from this point on she was no longer known as the bus,but as "Luverne the Bird Killer"...
Luverne came to rest at a small bar right off the interstate and everyone piled out as I went on a solo quest to have our muffler fixed,people in this town were extremely helpfull,the first ma and pa muffler shop I stumbled across agreed to fix the problem for only fifty bucks and I threw in a six pack,which I decided was a nice tip.The muffler man was relatively quick,fixing our problem in a couple hours...but..I knew from past experience with my compatriots that two hours was ample time in any bar to get properly lubricated,so I brainstormed as I thought about how many beverages were consumed already and how many cases will be carried on to Luverne ...the fruits of my brainstorm were to purchase a tube and large funnel,The makings of a beer bong from a small hardware store,but this was not to be used for consumption,this was to be used as a urinal at Luverne's front folding bus doors,to prevent a thousand pee stops on our journey westward towards Seattle...As I silently pulled up to the Bar in the ninja quiet "Luverne" I found my seven friends arm in arm with crusty old locals while our other guitarist Jonny Polonski played old moldy 70's songs on an acoustic..and as I expected,the lot was completely shit housed,I rallied the troops,they bought about 4 cases of budweiser and everybody loaded up.....It felt strange at this point in my life to be the "responsible"one...oh well,westward ho!!!
We started to make good time as the peebong was a raving success,no one was shy about it,especially our singer JR as he would stand naked in "Luverne's" double glass doors waving at passing traffic,drinking and peeing at the same time....I drove a long time,I remember terrible images in the rear view mirror of JR standing buck naked,shaving an upside down cross in his chest and stomach fur,a very nice job indeed and As I write this I remember that we had a mustache pact for this "tour"...JR had the prison style fu,Matt Schultz,our videographer had an incredible waxed up 1800's number,I had the streamline thin Errol Flynn,Jonny Polonski had a fabulous lumberjack.....I can't remember anyone else's specific style,but we all had em....a site to behold for certain...
We drove all the way to Wyoming,found a rest area and stopped till sunrise...We woke early,found food and gas and made our way to "Devils Tower"and hiked around,absorbing its haunting aura....it was incredible to watch the ant like humans climbing the mammoth mesa from "Close Encounters of the Third Kind",I remember the pine smell as the day was waking up.....It was at this point that we decided to camp instead of staying at hotels,Staying committed to our mustaches,our camp fires,our beer and most of all our Rock music....
Our next destination was Missoula Montana,a friend of our bass player lived there and it was just off the highway on our way to Seattle...we drove all thru the day and arrived that night at his friends restaurant,free food and beer was an incredible comfort as we re-charged.After fueling up several of us walked down the main street in this little college town,off in the distance we could here a punk rock band as we drew closer we found the source drifting down a set of stairs,we approached,walked up into the bar and found a little live music venue with local college bands playing.I decided to talk to the sound guy,tell him we were a "Mans Ruin"band on tour and would he mind if we set up and play a short set?
He said.."sure,what the hell".We pulled"Luverne"up to the back door and commenced to load all of our amps,cabinets and drums up the stairs and indy pit crewed the band ready for action...Within a couple of minutes we power into our set,louder,faster and more mustached than usual,we were killin it,the looks on these kids faces was priceless,as JR was hanging from the lighting truss with his pants coming down,microphone stuffed in his mouth,screaming like a wounded animal,the sound guy gave us a warning after the first song"turn it down and keep your pants on"we all looked at each other,laughed and had a few more chugs and off we went for song number two,louder,faster and more naked,as JR's pants somehow find their way down during the rock onslaught.....Out of the blue,I feel the P.A. cut out and see the sound guy jump on stage waving his arms for us to stop,We don't,the sound guy pushes JR off the stage,I immediately push the sound guy off the stage,they begin to wrestle around on the floor,some kid decides to help the sound guy and grabs JR by his hair,making the odds unfair,I jump offstage and grab this kid by his long mountain hair and whip him around like a rag doll,doing a complete big time wrestling 360 before i let go and watch him slide under a table cowering,As I shook the remanents of his hair from my fingers,I noticed we were like a finely tuned military outfit systematically loading all our gear out the back stairs double time to the waiting "Luverne",engine running.Half the people were flipping us off and yelling insults and the other half were screaming things like"You Dudes Fuckin Rock...Man!!"...
For some reason the police show up and thankfully gave us the"You ain't from these parts,get outa town" routine and let us go......We're all happy as clams as we head up into the mountains to our bass players friends cabin with more beer,discussing scary stories of recent mountain lion attacks and Fire alerts.....I pass out inside "Luverne" on one of her luxurious bunks to the sounds of yelling about government cheese and stay out of my fridge.....I slept...
The next day was beautiful driving thru Montana and into Idaho,we decided to stop in Coeur d'Alene,all I remember was a beautiful lake that had rocky cliffs that we were all diving off of,it was surreal to see these mustached and tattoo'd up city dwellers so comfortable in nature.......After we cleaned and stocked up we got back on the highway,crossed into Washington state,got gas in Spokane and the terrain begin to change from tree covered Rocky mountains to the Moonscape of Eastern Washington state...very,very stark...we drove as far as we could before dark and found a campsite about a couple hours east of Seattle and settled in for the night,while enjoying campfire tales,beer and whisky consumption and reliving the previous 48 hours.....
The next morning we started in towards Seattle,for the first of two shows,with a day off in between,we got in around 2 or 3 in the afternoon to the club,thankfully they had food....The thing I instantly realized was...we were a spectacle,smelling like campfire,with our mustaches and the way the eight of us interacted like soldiers coming out of the bush into civilization,all wild eyed and ready to go.Half of our crew ventured out into the downtown area and discovered some peep show entertainment,I saw three of my band mate's exit a "jack-shack"all rosy cheeked and giggly,spirits were high......We played with reckless abandon that night,JR lit off a wheel of blackcat fire crackers that were wrapped around his torso like a mexican bandolier.We were well received compared to the Missoula fiasco....Post show with the bar closing,I was feeling edgy and wanted to get back into the woods...I told everybody to grab beer and get in Luverne,"I'm driving us to Olympic National Park,and when you wake up you'll thank me".Many hours,10 cups of coffee and a handfull of mini-thins later we arrived with the sunrise in one of the most beautiful places in the continental United States.....We hiked around "Hoh Rain Forest" and walked amongst giant moss covered ancient tree's and saw bald eagles before we found our way to a campsite next to the beach....We were back in our element,cases of Budweiser,campfire,acoustic sing along's of bad metal tunes and punk classics..
As the sun went away we decided to hike down to the shore with the help of two light houses at either end of the giant harbor...we walked closer to where the beach break should have been,we noticed the tide was all the way out,leaving wet reflective sand and glowing phosphorus as far as the eye could see.....along with this incredibly haunting sight was the audio backdrop of the roaring ocean in the distance just waiting for its turn to come rushing right back to where all of us were standing...silent...in awe...some of us overwhelmed with emotion at the pure surreal beauty of the glowing green,wet sand pulsating in time with the distant fog horns and beams of light from the watchful light houses ......my words could never describe how awe inspiring that beach really was......
Back to Seattle.....another gig........at the "offramp"it was fun,but nobody was there,we made the best of it and went to a party after and crashed on a floor.The next morning after mooching a breakfast we started towards Portland in "Luverne",our trusty transport....
We had a day off in Portland,the only thing I remember was trying to get everyone out of a nasty little "Gentleman's Club" before they spent all of their money...too late...Matt fell in love with one of the heroin chic strippers,I clearly remember him saying"we have a real connection"...I laughed and told him she had a real connection to his wallet....somehow we escaped and slept in "Luverne".for some true urban camping....
The Portland gig was actually Great,JR strung together 4 or 5 microphone cables and interviewed the whole bar in between songs in his tighty whities,We had a solid response and a guest vocalist for a song called"Gallons of Bull Semen"...Everything was starting to settle in,we were finding a rhythm and we packed up and left Portland in a good place,headed for San Francisco,Home of our record Label "Mans Ruin' and label owner Frank Kozik...excited about the prospects of success....I settled into a bunk after a good show and started to fall asleep......
Then.....the dream was over...."Luverne" was sick,very sick...we were traveling south bound somewhere around Eugene,Oregon doing about 15 miles an hour,belching out a horrible smoke screen behind us...We had to find a truck stop and fast.......We did,and decided she had simply overheated and needed some time to cool off and we'll make decisions in the morning........In the morning ....Worse,the engine seized ...We were fucked,no funds,no vehicle,no gig,...
As I was pouting in the truck stop restaurant,Matt and Jonny were being proactive and came up with a plan to rent a 15 passenger van,ditch poor ole "Luverne" and forge ahead.....Thats exactly what we did,we emptied out dead "Luverne" into a 15 passenger van and headed out to San Francisco under the premise we could borrow money from our "label" to pay back Matt and Jonny.I can't tell you how sad I was to leave "Luverne",I had grown attached and it felt wrong to abandon her,but we had no choice...We pulled into S.F. just in time for the gig,we were all stressed,the show was all over the map,JR crawled up into the ceiling and instantaneously fell 10 feet to the stage,an explosion of destroyed ceiling tiling and wire framing surrounded him as he landed on his shoulder,completely wrecking himself,but somehow finishing the set.....
After the show,we splurge and get one motel room for eight guys in Oakland and develop a game plan for tomorrows meeting with Frank Kozik to ask for money...... Frank flat out says NO,then finally agrees to 250 bucks,because JR and I will not leave his office,he has no choice and says he'll see us in L.A.....We leave Kozik's office completely defeated and find the rest of our crew in a dive bar somewhere in a shady part of San Francisco,This particular establishment had brass plaques for dead people who used to drink there,mounted in front of the places they sat.In the corner was Jonny Polonski playing Journey songs on an out of tune upright piano singing at the top of his lungs to toothless barflies,once again new friends were made,let it be said that Jonny had more teeth in his head than all of his adoring fans.
Again we pile in our nameless fifteen passenger van and head towards Los Angeles for the last gig of this bizzaro tour,We're to play the "Viper room" and collect a measly $100 dollar guarantee.....for gas money,to get us partially back to Chicago,That ....did not happen,Mid set,Mid Rock,as JR is slithering around the floor Screaming his balls off at the feet of Josh from QOTSA and Frank Kozik his pants somehow come down and quickly the curtains closed,P.A.shut down,power turned off and giant nubian door personal carry our gear immediately out into sunset blvd. Thats it,shows over,no money,no nothing...at this point its a complete abortion....Matt and Jonny are finished funding us,they go to L.A.X a.s.a.p. and fly back to Chicago and we somehow scrape enough money together for gas,slim jims,mini thins and coffee,I am so pissed off at this point that I do 85% of the driving,It is absolutely the most painful endurance driving I have ever have done in my life,I just wanted it all to be over,we pulled into Chicago at about three in the morning,I was destroyed,I didn't even have the energy to unload anything,I just stumbled into my house,my room,my bed,five minutes later or so it felt,My roommate woke me,telling me to look out front.......Thieves had broke into the van and stolen all our guitars,amps and cabs and left the rest spewed out into the street.............
1 muffler,1 bird,1 bus,1 video camera,2 guitars,1 bass,3 amps,2 cabinets numerous injuries,our livers,an acquaintance or two ...all lost ....and ..............I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything.....thank you,goodnight....Trailer Hitch
......We met in front of a stinky bar called Thurstons in Chicago,somehow we talked the sound man of that toilet into renting us his bus.... not smart...We loaded up and aimed west on the 90,Barely making it into Wisconsin before the muffler fell apart.It was so loud you couldn't hear the radio inside the bus,it sounded like a monster truck rally,we endured for a couple hours but finally we decided that something had to be done as we crossed over into Minnesota
The first exit that looked promising was a Town called Luverne and as we screamed down the offramp a bird smashed into the windshield,feathers and blood everywhere,two Omens in two hours,a blown muffler and an exploding bird....no...not to us.....This was an opportunity to name Our bus.......from this point on she was no longer known as the bus,but as "Luverne the Bird Killer"...
Luverne came to rest at a small bar right off the interstate and everyone piled out as I went on a solo quest to have our muffler fixed,people in this town were extremely helpfull,the first ma and pa muffler shop I stumbled across agreed to fix the problem for only fifty bucks and I threw in a six pack,which I decided was a nice tip.The muffler man was relatively quick,fixing our problem in a couple hours...but..I knew from past experience with my compatriots that two hours was ample time in any bar to get properly lubricated,so I brainstormed as I thought about how many beverages were consumed already and how many cases will be carried on to Luverne ...the fruits of my brainstorm were to purchase a tube and large funnel,The makings of a beer bong from a small hardware store,but this was not to be used for consumption,this was to be used as a urinal at Luverne's front folding bus doors,to prevent a thousand pee stops on our journey westward towards Seattle...As I silently pulled up to the Bar in the ninja quiet "Luverne" I found my seven friends arm in arm with crusty old locals while our other guitarist Jonny Polonski played old moldy 70's songs on an acoustic..and as I expected,the lot was completely shit housed,I rallied the troops,they bought about 4 cases of budweiser and everybody loaded up.....It felt strange at this point in my life to be the "responsible"one...oh well,westward ho!!!
We started to make good time as the peebong was a raving success,no one was shy about it,especially our singer JR as he would stand naked in "Luverne's" double glass doors waving at passing traffic,drinking and peeing at the same time....I drove a long time,I remember terrible images in the rear view mirror of JR standing buck naked,shaving an upside down cross in his chest and stomach fur,a very nice job indeed and As I write this I remember that we had a mustache pact for this "tour"...JR had the prison style fu,Matt Schultz,our videographer had an incredible waxed up 1800's number,I had the streamline thin Errol Flynn,Jonny Polonski had a fabulous lumberjack.....I can't remember anyone else's specific style,but we all had em....a site to behold for certain...
We drove all the way to Wyoming,found a rest area and stopped till sunrise...We woke early,found food and gas and made our way to "Devils Tower"and hiked around,absorbing its haunting aura....it was incredible to watch the ant like humans climbing the mammoth mesa from "Close Encounters of the Third Kind",I remember the pine smell as the day was waking up.....It was at this point that we decided to camp instead of staying at hotels,Staying committed to our mustaches,our camp fires,our beer and most of all our Rock music....
Our next destination was Missoula Montana,a friend of our bass player lived there and it was just off the highway on our way to Seattle...we drove all thru the day and arrived that night at his friends restaurant,free food and beer was an incredible comfort as we re-charged.After fueling up several of us walked down the main street in this little college town,off in the distance we could here a punk rock band as we drew closer we found the source drifting down a set of stairs,we approached,walked up into the bar and found a little live music venue with local college bands playing.I decided to talk to the sound guy,tell him we were a "Mans Ruin"band on tour and would he mind if we set up and play a short set?
He said.."sure,what the hell".We pulled"Luverne"up to the back door and commenced to load all of our amps,cabinets and drums up the stairs and indy pit crewed the band ready for action...Within a couple of minutes we power into our set,louder,faster and more mustached than usual,we were killin it,the looks on these kids faces was priceless,as JR was hanging from the lighting truss with his pants coming down,microphone stuffed in his mouth,screaming like a wounded animal,the sound guy gave us a warning after the first song"turn it down and keep your pants on"we all looked at each other,laughed and had a few more chugs and off we went for song number two,louder,faster and more naked,as JR's pants somehow find their way down during the rock onslaught.....Out of the blue,I feel the P.A. cut out and see the sound guy jump on stage waving his arms for us to stop,We don't,the sound guy pushes JR off the stage,I immediately push the sound guy off the stage,they begin to wrestle around on the floor,some kid decides to help the sound guy and grabs JR by his hair,making the odds unfair,I jump offstage and grab this kid by his long mountain hair and whip him around like a rag doll,doing a complete big time wrestling 360 before i let go and watch him slide under a table cowering,As I shook the remanents of his hair from my fingers,I noticed we were like a finely tuned military outfit systematically loading all our gear out the back stairs double time to the waiting "Luverne",engine running.Half the people were flipping us off and yelling insults and the other half were screaming things like"You Dudes Fuckin Rock...Man!!"...
For some reason the police show up and thankfully gave us the"You ain't from these parts,get outa town" routine and let us go......We're all happy as clams as we head up into the mountains to our bass players friends cabin with more beer,discussing scary stories of recent mountain lion attacks and Fire alerts.....I pass out inside "Luverne" on one of her luxurious bunks to the sounds of yelling about government cheese and stay out of my fridge.....I slept...
The next day was beautiful driving thru Montana and into Idaho,we decided to stop in Coeur d'Alene,all I remember was a beautiful lake that had rocky cliffs that we were all diving off of,it was surreal to see these mustached and tattoo'd up city dwellers so comfortable in nature.......After we cleaned and stocked up we got back on the highway,crossed into Washington state,got gas in Spokane and the terrain begin to change from tree covered Rocky mountains to the Moonscape of Eastern Washington state...very,very stark...we drove as far as we could before dark and found a campsite about a couple hours east of Seattle and settled in for the night,while enjoying campfire tales,beer and whisky consumption and reliving the previous 48 hours.....
The next morning we started in towards Seattle,for the first of two shows,with a day off in between,we got in around 2 or 3 in the afternoon to the club,thankfully they had food....The thing I instantly realized was...we were a spectacle,smelling like campfire,with our mustaches and the way the eight of us interacted like soldiers coming out of the bush into civilization,all wild eyed and ready to go.Half of our crew ventured out into the downtown area and discovered some peep show entertainment,I saw three of my band mate's exit a "jack-shack"all rosy cheeked and giggly,spirits were high......We played with reckless abandon that night,JR lit off a wheel of blackcat fire crackers that were wrapped around his torso like a mexican bandolier.We were well received compared to the Missoula fiasco....Post show with the bar closing,I was feeling edgy and wanted to get back into the woods...I told everybody to grab beer and get in Luverne,"I'm driving us to Olympic National Park,and when you wake up you'll thank me".Many hours,10 cups of coffee and a handfull of mini-thins later we arrived with the sunrise in one of the most beautiful places in the continental United States.....We hiked around "Hoh Rain Forest" and walked amongst giant moss covered ancient tree's and saw bald eagles before we found our way to a campsite next to the beach....We were back in our element,cases of Budweiser,campfire,acoustic sing along's of bad metal tunes and punk classics..
As the sun went away we decided to hike down to the shore with the help of two light houses at either end of the giant harbor...we walked closer to where the beach break should have been,we noticed the tide was all the way out,leaving wet reflective sand and glowing phosphorus as far as the eye could see.....along with this incredibly haunting sight was the audio backdrop of the roaring ocean in the distance just waiting for its turn to come rushing right back to where all of us were standing...silent...in awe...some of us overwhelmed with emotion at the pure surreal beauty of the glowing green,wet sand pulsating in time with the distant fog horns and beams of light from the watchful light houses ......my words could never describe how awe inspiring that beach really was......
Back to Seattle.....another gig........at the "offramp"it was fun,but nobody was there,we made the best of it and went to a party after and crashed on a floor.The next morning after mooching a breakfast we started towards Portland in "Luverne",our trusty transport....
We had a day off in Portland,the only thing I remember was trying to get everyone out of a nasty little "Gentleman's Club" before they spent all of their money...too late...Matt fell in love with one of the heroin chic strippers,I clearly remember him saying"we have a real connection"...I laughed and told him she had a real connection to his wallet....somehow we escaped and slept in "Luverne".for some true urban camping....
The Portland gig was actually Great,JR strung together 4 or 5 microphone cables and interviewed the whole bar in between songs in his tighty whities,We had a solid response and a guest vocalist for a song called"Gallons of Bull Semen"...Everything was starting to settle in,we were finding a rhythm and we packed up and left Portland in a good place,headed for San Francisco,Home of our record Label "Mans Ruin' and label owner Frank Kozik...excited about the prospects of success....I settled into a bunk after a good show and started to fall asleep......
Then.....the dream was over...."Luverne" was sick,very sick...we were traveling south bound somewhere around Eugene,Oregon doing about 15 miles an hour,belching out a horrible smoke screen behind us...We had to find a truck stop and fast.......We did,and decided she had simply overheated and needed some time to cool off and we'll make decisions in the morning........In the morning ....Worse,the engine seized ...We were fucked,no funds,no vehicle,no gig,...
As I was pouting in the truck stop restaurant,Matt and Jonny were being proactive and came up with a plan to rent a 15 passenger van,ditch poor ole "Luverne" and forge ahead.....Thats exactly what we did,we emptied out dead "Luverne" into a 15 passenger van and headed out to San Francisco under the premise we could borrow money from our "label" to pay back Matt and Jonny.I can't tell you how sad I was to leave "Luverne",I had grown attached and it felt wrong to abandon her,but we had no choice...We pulled into S.F. just in time for the gig,we were all stressed,the show was all over the map,JR crawled up into the ceiling and instantaneously fell 10 feet to the stage,an explosion of destroyed ceiling tiling and wire framing surrounded him as he landed on his shoulder,completely wrecking himself,but somehow finishing the set.....
After the show,we splurge and get one motel room for eight guys in Oakland and develop a game plan for tomorrows meeting with Frank Kozik to ask for money...... Frank flat out says NO,then finally agrees to 250 bucks,because JR and I will not leave his office,he has no choice and says he'll see us in L.A.....We leave Kozik's office completely defeated and find the rest of our crew in a dive bar somewhere in a shady part of San Francisco,This particular establishment had brass plaques for dead people who used to drink there,mounted in front of the places they sat.In the corner was Jonny Polonski playing Journey songs on an out of tune upright piano singing at the top of his lungs to toothless barflies,once again new friends were made,let it be said that Jonny had more teeth in his head than all of his adoring fans.
Again we pile in our nameless fifteen passenger van and head towards Los Angeles for the last gig of this bizzaro tour,We're to play the "Viper room" and collect a measly $100 dollar guarantee.....for gas money,to get us partially back to Chicago,That ....did not happen,Mid set,Mid Rock,as JR is slithering around the floor Screaming his balls off at the feet of Josh from QOTSA and Frank Kozik his pants somehow come down and quickly the curtains closed,P.A.shut down,power turned off and giant nubian door personal carry our gear immediately out into sunset blvd. Thats it,shows over,no money,no nothing...at this point its a complete abortion....Matt and Jonny are finished funding us,they go to L.A.X a.s.a.p. and fly back to Chicago and we somehow scrape enough money together for gas,slim jims,mini thins and coffee,I am so pissed off at this point that I do 85% of the driving,It is absolutely the most painful endurance driving I have ever have done in my life,I just wanted it all to be over,we pulled into Chicago at about three in the morning,I was destroyed,I didn't even have the energy to unload anything,I just stumbled into my house,my room,my bed,five minutes later or so it felt,My roommate woke me,telling me to look out front.......Thieves had broke into the van and stolen all our guitars,amps and cabs and left the rest spewed out into the street.............
1 muffler,1 bird,1 bus,1 video camera,2 guitars,1 bass,3 amps,2 cabinets numerous injuries,our livers,an acquaintance or two ...all lost ....and ..............I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything.....thank you,goodnight....Trailer Hitch
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)