We're all looking and feeling pretty sluggish this morning except the refreshed Jeff Dew. He's got a lot of catching up to do. First things first. Like Batman with his utility belt, he finds Timmy and dives plugged-nose first in to his arsenal chock full of deodorizers, sprays, gels, powders and exfoliators. Tubbed and scrubbed, we mount up and head out to Casper.
They drive isn't as bad as I thought it would be and we get to the venue in plenty of time, book a hotel online and then drive to the wrong one...again. Technology is doing us dirty this year. We actually catch a huge break this time as the front desk lady feels so bad for us, she hooks us up with a great room and a discount. it's there that Jeff Dew sees Ed's black power tank top. He calls it all tank and not enough top to our great pleasure.
When we get to the venue, we are surprised to GP-Ed our way into an arena parking lot. I remember Casper being awesome last year, but an arena might be a little ambitious. Lucky for us, we are playing a much more modest exhibit hall in the parking lot of the arena. it's got a very underground party vibe to it. It's a rented out hall, with cases of beer and extension cords. Cool by us. We load in and sound check with plenty of time before the show starts. Time to kill is often passed these days by Seagrams 7. However, much like last year, the whiskey quality drops as the tour goes on and this year is no exception. Evan Williams is driving the bus this evening. Ah our old nemesis E-Dub. It's good for drinking and removing paint. We opt for the drinking and give it the ol' pre-game party. but no pre-game is complete without a soundtrack. Tonight's jam is Dance Move Burglar by Euromotion. If you haven't heard it, stop what you're doing and look it up right now. It's the funniest, best dance jam you've ever head. We select this number on the jukebox (phone played through the stereo), turn out all the lights (car) and dance party with strobe lights (flashlights shaken repeatedly) and Disco balls (lighters). Mixed with Evan Williams, we are about as ready as it gets.
We head on in, and catch the first band Tough Guy. Cool band and great dudes. It's funny how small the music community is. The singer of the band knows all the Denver dudes we know back home and it makes us feel more welcome in Casper. We hit the stage for our set. It's a fun night in a fun venue. About halfway through our set, Dave from Guttermouth comes out with vacuum to clean up between songs. We return the favor in their set, complete with brooms and dustpans. Mark says something along the lines of "punk rock has been dead for years, but it's good to know that good house keeping is still in fashion".
Post show, we head back to a hotel bar where Guttermouth is staying they have a Karaoke bar and the Guttermouth dudes are tearing it up. i believe Mark belts out a B-52's number while Dave croons Frank Sinatra. We end the night with a group sing-a-long to to Bohemian rhapsody. Both bands in a hotel lobby singing Queen at the top of our lungs. Yeah, all in all, not a bad little Thursday...
Post Script: Due to some ever increasing laptop difficulties along with the fact that our next few shows are back in our home state, I'll be signing off until we head out again. See you all in Denver!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Day 11 - Billings - Dew Tell.
I can't really say we woke up this morning because basically none of us got any sleep. In order for us to make it to Billings by 5pm, we had to drive through the night. I think it's about now that Electric 6 has made regular rotation on the Boldtype Radio Network. The Tims and Manny have dance party in the back, while I try and contort my body into some sort of sleeping position. I know that by sunrise Timmy and I are pretzeled up like a bag of rold golds.
Ed is on fire and making good time. But then GPS strikes back at Ed for making it look like shit so often. Jealous little GPS gives us the shortest route, but doesn't tell Ed that the route is through 100 miles (not exaggerating) of icy mountains. Sleep is out the window at this point and it's too late to turn back. Temps drop to negative eleven and the insides of our windows ice up. I'm convinced we are going to get stuck and have to eat one of the Tims to survive. The jury is out on which one at this point. But Ed won't go down without a fight. We pass an iced over rickety old half built bridge that the Duke boys wouldn't even jump over. Ed is up for it today though. Inching through, he drives us to safety and even has time to tell us about the animals native to these Montana hills. Good work Edward.
But the thing with Ed is this, he always does something good and then follows it up with something un-good. Example. Getting us safely to Billings, great. Telling the bartender we need a room for "Free-Fifty" and then taking a "complimentary to people actually gambling" hot dog...un-good.
We make it with a little over an hour to kill so we check in to our old go to homestead the Dude Rancher and clean up. It's time for us to hit the club. We are fortunate enough to run into the Eyre Family again. If you don't know about them, check our blog from last year. They are the coolest family around, and honestly a high point for all of us to be able to hang out with them again.
As we are setting up, out of nowhere and clean as a whistle, blows in Jeff Dew! It is fantastic to see him and he immediately runs a hygiene check. He can tell he has a lot of work to do, but tonight he's just here to let his hair down and put the "ill' in Billings. Success. The show is crazy and we have kids running around singing our songs. Billings truly treats us well.
Post show, we make another trip to our old friend the Rainbow. The booze is aplenty at the good ol' Rainbow. We have not only hit our stride at shows, but also in alcohol consumption and sharpie mustaches. If anyone in Billings reads this, can you put one thing to rest for us? We've been told it is a gay bar, and that it isn't a gay bar. All I know is that the fellas are nice and the price is right. And that, my friends, is how to get down in Billings town...
Ed is on fire and making good time. But then GPS strikes back at Ed for making it look like shit so often. Jealous little GPS gives us the shortest route, but doesn't tell Ed that the route is through 100 miles (not exaggerating) of icy mountains. Sleep is out the window at this point and it's too late to turn back. Temps drop to negative eleven and the insides of our windows ice up. I'm convinced we are going to get stuck and have to eat one of the Tims to survive. The jury is out on which one at this point. But Ed won't go down without a fight. We pass an iced over rickety old half built bridge that the Duke boys wouldn't even jump over. Ed is up for it today though. Inching through, he drives us to safety and even has time to tell us about the animals native to these Montana hills. Good work Edward.
But the thing with Ed is this, he always does something good and then follows it up with something un-good. Example. Getting us safely to Billings, great. Telling the bartender we need a room for "Free-Fifty" and then taking a "complimentary to people actually gambling" hot dog...un-good.
We make it with a little over an hour to kill so we check in to our old go to homestead the Dude Rancher and clean up. It's time for us to hit the club. We are fortunate enough to run into the Eyre Family again. If you don't know about them, check our blog from last year. They are the coolest family around, and honestly a high point for all of us to be able to hang out with them again.
As we are setting up, out of nowhere and clean as a whistle, blows in Jeff Dew! It is fantastic to see him and he immediately runs a hygiene check. He can tell he has a lot of work to do, but tonight he's just here to let his hair down and put the "ill' in Billings. Success. The show is crazy and we have kids running around singing our songs. Billings truly treats us well.
Post show, we make another trip to our old friend the Rainbow. The booze is aplenty at the good ol' Rainbow. We have not only hit our stride at shows, but also in alcohol consumption and sharpie mustaches. If anyone in Billings reads this, can you put one thing to rest for us? We've been told it is a gay bar, and that it isn't a gay bar. All I know is that the fellas are nice and the price is right. And that, my friends, is how to get down in Billings town...
Friday, March 9, 2012
Day 10 - Separating the Men From the Boise.
Waking up in a bed is awesome. Waking up in a bottom bunk bed is even better because that means I didn't try to drunk step up a ladder. Or maybe I did try, but got too tired and took a nap down at bottomsville. Tough to say at this point. Time to pick it back up and head back to Boise. Ah Boise. The nicest place on Earth.
The drive isn't too bad today so we have some extra time. We have to make sure the amps work. We have to get a tire fixed. We have to tune up our Ed. You know, basic afternoon errands. Once into the land of the pleasant, we park and split up. I take a walk to hit a bank and come across a pimp-like-fella at the ATM. I don't know what he's up to. He seems to have a layered coat theme. His car is parked and running, but he seems to be just hanging out, making phone calls and depositing and withdrawing money over and over. Perhaps he has as many accounts as he does coats. I get tired of waiting and find another one nearby.
Meanwhile, Manny hits the venue for an afternoon whiskey. He runs into our friend from last year and Hotel Chelsea shredder Red. He's a cool guy and you should check out his band. They are good stuff.
The red room is a dark, clowny, murdery type venue, but everyone there is so smiley that the vibe evens itself out. The opening bands are great and we hit the stage for our set. Everything works and we tear our set up. The Tims are in full swing these days. Post show, I hit the merch booth and hang with Simmo (Guttermouth's Australian merch guy) while Ed takes a power nap in the truck. His snoring has been better this year, but I can't help but wonder if passers by think the car is running. Anyway, hanging with Simmo is cool. He's a good bloke, as he would probably say. We have all picked up Australian accents on this tour. it's infectious and hard to translate via typeset.
So we try to be as accommodating as possible to people who want our music. For example, this guy comes up to me and says that he really wants one of our vinyl records, but he's only got two bucks left. I say ok. Then he pulls out two bucks in the form of a nickel roll. He was going to use it on his last beer but decides it's better spent on our record. That's dedication to music and well appreciated.
Unfortunately, i can't see much from the merch booth because its in a different room than the venue. From what i can tell though, the show goes off and at one point I think Mike get's wrapped in duct tape by a Tim and hulks his way out of it. Chaos. Drunken-ness. Mike Ness. Goodnight. Kind of. We can't sleep tonight. The Ed sled has to drive through the night to make our Billings show tomorrow. Ah yes, a night of sleeping sitting straight up and down...
The drive isn't too bad today so we have some extra time. We have to make sure the amps work. We have to get a tire fixed. We have to tune up our Ed. You know, basic afternoon errands. Once into the land of the pleasant, we park and split up. I take a walk to hit a bank and come across a pimp-like-fella at the ATM. I don't know what he's up to. He seems to have a layered coat theme. His car is parked and running, but he seems to be just hanging out, making phone calls and depositing and withdrawing money over and over. Perhaps he has as many accounts as he does coats. I get tired of waiting and find another one nearby.
Meanwhile, Manny hits the venue for an afternoon whiskey. He runs into our friend from last year and Hotel Chelsea shredder Red. He's a cool guy and you should check out his band. They are good stuff.
The red room is a dark, clowny, murdery type venue, but everyone there is so smiley that the vibe evens itself out. The opening bands are great and we hit the stage for our set. Everything works and we tear our set up. The Tims are in full swing these days. Post show, I hit the merch booth and hang with Simmo (Guttermouth's Australian merch guy) while Ed takes a power nap in the truck. His snoring has been better this year, but I can't help but wonder if passers by think the car is running. Anyway, hanging with Simmo is cool. He's a good bloke, as he would probably say. We have all picked up Australian accents on this tour. it's infectious and hard to translate via typeset.
So we try to be as accommodating as possible to people who want our music. For example, this guy comes up to me and says that he really wants one of our vinyl records, but he's only got two bucks left. I say ok. Then he pulls out two bucks in the form of a nickel roll. He was going to use it on his last beer but decides it's better spent on our record. That's dedication to music and well appreciated.
Unfortunately, i can't see much from the merch booth because its in a different room than the venue. From what i can tell though, the show goes off and at one point I think Mike get's wrapped in duct tape by a Tim and hulks his way out of it. Chaos. Drunken-ness. Mike Ness. Goodnight. Kind of. We can't sleep tonight. The Ed sled has to drive through the night to make our Billings show tomorrow. Ah yes, a night of sleeping sitting straight up and down...
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Day 9 - Ketchum? Damn Near Killed Em!
We woke up in our sweet ass rest stop hotel this morning ready for a drive. It's a long ride to Ketchum. Enjoyed our day off, but back to the rock tonight.
We roll in to Ketchum. I apologize if I am spelling this town wrong. I asked the dudes in the car, but like the total dicks they are, I've gotten "Ketchup" and "Catsup" spelled to me 3 times in a row so fuck them. They can live with my grammatical errors. Anyway, we get to the venue and I realize hospitality extends past Boise and all through entire state of Idaho. We meet a gentle giant named Train. Cool as shit. We have dinner and a huge condo to stay in tonight with the Guttermouth dudes.
We get back to the venue and get ready to rock. the nice-ness continues to a fridge full of beer, redbulls and waters. The stage is really small, but its not the size of the stage that matters, right ladeesh? Mannys monitor is so close he might as well be wearing it as a hat. We get up and immediately we are hit with adversity. One TIm's bass rigg seems to be flying at half mast. We change it. But when one TIm goes, they all go. The next Tim breaks a string, switches guitars and the input goes out. But we battle through and the set goes off. I jump up on a ledge and avoid death by a narrow margin. Mike jumps off stage and gets in some faces. We end on a high note and continue the party while we wait for Guttermouth.
Fashionably late to the stage, Guttermouth gets up and starts their set. The crowd was awesome but it wasn't going as crazy it should've. It could just have been our judgment because we were all atleast two 40's and a few shots deep at this point. Only one thing can pump this party up to eleven. Time for the Ed Sled. He's already sporting a black tank top that says he's open for business so it's a no brainer. Mike and I hoist him up on our shoulders and charge towards the stage. Surprisingly we keep him up for most of the song and the crowd is back in full swing. Mike stage dives, the Tims tim out and its an all out uproar. At some point, they all switch instruments. Alex is singing, Mark is playing guitar, Justin on drums. Mark takes a run and my amp comes crashing to the ground. Full on to the ground. Somehow it survives. By the end of their set, I wonder if anything will work tomorrow. My amps down, Timmy's smells like burning and other Tims is prety much out of comish. Oh well, we'll find out tomorrow? Cause tonight its time to party and there is a nice gentleman waiting to buy us drinks across the street.
We go across the street to a bar. Lucky for us, every one in Ketchum is letting their hair down too except the bartender or the manager. i can't tell which one. Anyway, we almost got a back room tour of something that I can't remember. It was like a walkway between bars? I don't know. I know it was really interesting until the bartender manager stopped us from going. Then Mike blew the whistle. Literally he had a whistle and the bartender manager tried to take it from him. I emphasize tried. No way anyone takes anything from Mike. Not now. Not ever. Well, except a sharpie, but that's later. At this point it's time to go back to the condo so we head out.
The party should have ended there, but it doesn't. We hit the condo and grab some beers and a special batch of wine that was given to us back in Portland. Lesson learned. Never give drunk guys sharpies. Simmo and mike trade face drawings. According to my camera, there were many more. i don't really remember. I know that I avoided a 3 man take down with a tims help and that Mike acquired a ridiculous sharpie mustache. Yeah, it's about time to pass out. Awesome times Ketchum. See you again soon...
We roll in to Ketchum. I apologize if I am spelling this town wrong. I asked the dudes in the car, but like the total dicks they are, I've gotten "Ketchup" and "Catsup" spelled to me 3 times in a row so fuck them. They can live with my grammatical errors. Anyway, we get to the venue and I realize hospitality extends past Boise and all through entire state of Idaho. We meet a gentle giant named Train. Cool as shit. We have dinner and a huge condo to stay in tonight with the Guttermouth dudes.
We get back to the venue and get ready to rock. the nice-ness continues to a fridge full of beer, redbulls and waters. The stage is really small, but its not the size of the stage that matters, right ladeesh? Mannys monitor is so close he might as well be wearing it as a hat. We get up and immediately we are hit with adversity. One TIm's bass rigg seems to be flying at half mast. We change it. But when one TIm goes, they all go. The next Tim breaks a string, switches guitars and the input goes out. But we battle through and the set goes off. I jump up on a ledge and avoid death by a narrow margin. Mike jumps off stage and gets in some faces. We end on a high note and continue the party while we wait for Guttermouth.
Fashionably late to the stage, Guttermouth gets up and starts their set. The crowd was awesome but it wasn't going as crazy it should've. It could just have been our judgment because we were all atleast two 40's and a few shots deep at this point. Only one thing can pump this party up to eleven. Time for the Ed Sled. He's already sporting a black tank top that says he's open for business so it's a no brainer. Mike and I hoist him up on our shoulders and charge towards the stage. Surprisingly we keep him up for most of the song and the crowd is back in full swing. Mike stage dives, the Tims tim out and its an all out uproar. At some point, they all switch instruments. Alex is singing, Mark is playing guitar, Justin on drums. Mark takes a run and my amp comes crashing to the ground. Full on to the ground. Somehow it survives. By the end of their set, I wonder if anything will work tomorrow. My amps down, Timmy's smells like burning and other Tims is prety much out of comish. Oh well, we'll find out tomorrow? Cause tonight its time to party and there is a nice gentleman waiting to buy us drinks across the street.
We go across the street to a bar. Lucky for us, every one in Ketchum is letting their hair down too except the bartender or the manager. i can't tell which one. Anyway, we almost got a back room tour of something that I can't remember. It was like a walkway between bars? I don't know. I know it was really interesting until the bartender manager stopped us from going. Then Mike blew the whistle. Literally he had a whistle and the bartender manager tried to take it from him. I emphasize tried. No way anyone takes anything from Mike. Not now. Not ever. Well, except a sharpie, but that's later. At this point it's time to go back to the condo so we head out.
The party should have ended there, but it doesn't. We hit the condo and grab some beers and a special batch of wine that was given to us back in Portland. Lesson learned. Never give drunk guys sharpies. Simmo and mike trade face drawings. According to my camera, there were many more. i don't really remember. I know that I avoided a 3 man take down with a tims help and that Mike acquired a ridiculous sharpie mustache. Yeah, it's about time to pass out. Awesome times Ketchum. See you again soon...
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Day 7 - Seattle - The Denver of the Sea
Our morning started off with a stretch of bad shit. We wake up in Tacoma at some hotel we booked over the phone that ended up being the wrong hotel. I think I passed out fairly early all things considered. One of the Tims, Mike and Manny were out drinking in our car until the sunrise. We were all pretty psyched about the show so we took it up a notch last night. Maybe one notch too many. The keys are no where to be found. Van call was at 11am and apparently the keys decided to go early and lock themselves up before we got there. Shit. Mike and Manny start calling places and somehow Mike gets it covered to come out and it doesn't cost us. But that's only half of our problem at the moment. Our van is parked in the back of the hotel. As we are hanging out waiting for the locksmith, about 7 people are in and out of a hotel room on the 2nd floor screaming "white power" at us. Not good. We're already pissed off about everything that happened and now we have to deal with a bunch of methed out (not even white) white supremecists? Plus we have to stay by the car for the locksmith so we can't even go anywhere. Mike is in the trailer (we still have those keys) assorting a "Just in case" pile of assorted goods including a sword, a back massager and two Washington apples. He's like Zelda back there. Anyway, they keep coming in and out of there hotel room, driving off, coming back, so on and so forth. Finally the locksmith gets there and we think we're about out of the woods. That's when the meth circus comes down the stairs and starts walking over. Now, I'm not even joking about the meth. They look like a fucking disaster. If meth dudes had nicknames, I would say the 3 coming over were Scabby Ears, Chubs and Squiggly head. Scabby Ears tells us he doesn't have a problem with us, he thought we were trying to start something with them somehow (still not sure) and so they figured it would help if they started yelling "white power". Good logic Scabby Ears. You almost got apple eyed.
Anyway, back on track, we head out to Seattle. No joke. Seattle is one of our favorite places. It reminds us of Denver, but with more ocean access, fresher seafood and a lot of hats. We take the Tims down to the public market. They like it too. Tim dances to a street vendor. We get some crab cocktails and Timmy gets salmon on a sick. It's like a glorious meat lollipop. Er...Wait. That doesn't sound quite right. Anyway, it was some good shit.
We get a hotel in the city thanks to Mike's wheeling and dealing. He did manage to talk a lady down (but it was still too much) with my favorite line so far "Ok maam. Well let me just see what what the good lord blessed us with today and I will call you right back.". It's also pretty funny when he calls and then when the price is too high, he forgets to continue his schtick and goes back to regular Mike voice.
Back at the funhouse tonight. We get off to a great start. The crowd is into it, and for the first city so far there is a dude that knows the words to our songs. Fuck yeah. The stage is soaked in beers and the Tims go off once again. We have hit our stride and through beer soaked clothes and guitars, we end with More After This before the Guttermouth dudes come up. They have a leisurely, hair slicked back look that either means they are here to rock or they want to safari with you. Dave has a more sheriff look about him, sporting their merch guys cowboy boots and a hat to match. They tear it up too and Mark can barely push the crowd back from the beer soaked mob rushing the stage.
We continue to a late night after party with the dudes, and report back to Charlie-Jeff room side. Yeah, I could get real used to Seattle...
Anyway, back on track, we head out to Seattle. No joke. Seattle is one of our favorite places. It reminds us of Denver, but with more ocean access, fresher seafood and a lot of hats. We take the Tims down to the public market. They like it too. Tim dances to a street vendor. We get some crab cocktails and Timmy gets salmon on a sick. It's like a glorious meat lollipop. Er...Wait. That doesn't sound quite right. Anyway, it was some good shit.
We get a hotel in the city thanks to Mike's wheeling and dealing. He did manage to talk a lady down (but it was still too much) with my favorite line so far "Ok maam. Well let me just see what what the good lord blessed us with today and I will call you right back.". It's also pretty funny when he calls and then when the price is too high, he forgets to continue his schtick and goes back to regular Mike voice.
Back at the funhouse tonight. We get off to a great start. The crowd is into it, and for the first city so far there is a dude that knows the words to our songs. Fuck yeah. The stage is soaked in beers and the Tims go off once again. We have hit our stride and through beer soaked clothes and guitars, we end with More After This before the Guttermouth dudes come up. They have a leisurely, hair slicked back look that either means they are here to rock or they want to safari with you. Dave has a more sheriff look about him, sporting their merch guys cowboy boots and a hat to match. They tear it up too and Mark can barely push the crowd back from the beer soaked mob rushing the stage.
We continue to a late night after party with the dudes, and report back to Charlie-Jeff room side. Yeah, I could get real used to Seattle...
Day 6 - Tacoma - Google Me This....
We don't have Ed's uber phone from last year so its tougher and tougher for him to make "GPS look like shit" as he put it from time to time last year. All of our phones seems to be having one problem or another but the Tims seem to be doing pretty well so they typically plug in our destination and Ed takes it from there. Anytime Ed needs any answers (at all, for anything and at any given time) he will call back "Google me this" or as I would say in my fictitious Ed voice "googer me dish".
We are actually kind of ahead of schedule and get to the venue about 3 hours early. Were also on a tight budget this year so Mike takes to the phones to get the cheapest room we can find. Getting bored with the standard conversation, Mike on the phone has become a traveling, poor-with-money, but rich-with-spirit Christian rock band. It's awesome. It hasn't really brought a discount but it does bring for much entertainment. We get a lock on a room 8 miles away from the venue. It's a little far, but the price is right so we head for it. As we remember from last year, everything is big in Tacoma so 8 miles is like 20 regular miles. Once we get there, it's not lookin so hot. One of the wings looks to be condemned so we say fuck it, lets just wait and get one later. Now for the fun part. All we have to do is get back to the venue we were already at. The Tims pop the address in and Ed makes like a tree and gets outta there. We hit the highway but Ed doesn't like the vibe so he cuts left and calls on the GPS to reroute us through the back roads. Now, I'm not one to question the directions, but things aren't looking too familiar and even in Tacoma miles this seems like a long trek. Ed's not going down without a fight though. Not even when we turn into a neighborhood filled with cul de sac's. Not even when it says we're there and we are outside of a ranch style home. I think Ed is still considering parking and starting to load out. Meanwhile, we are now on the verge of being late back to the venue. I text Jeff who has become the Charlie to our Angels. He advises me to let Ed know to take off his google goggles and buy a fucking map! Somehow, we get back on to a highway and re-calculate where we are going. It's also rush hour traffic at this point and we miss our exit. Things are not coming up Boldtype today.
Eventually we get back (about 2 hours of extra drive time and by my giant calculations, maybe 15 Tacoma miles. Not too late, but feeling silly because we were 3 hours early at one point. Anyway, the BSBG is really nice to us. I don't know how to describe it. It's sort of like Coyote Ugly in that the waitresses dance on the bars in between bands and sort of like some of the 80's rock bars in Denver where the fog machines are aplenty, but they also put on punk rock shows. Again, i can't say enough how nice they were to us and when we played our set, the crowd was really responsive. Its also really cool to come back to towns we've been before and see some of the people remember us. Also the Tims came alive tonight. It was awesome! From the first song, things went nuts, beers got spilled speakers got jumped on and at one point Tim was riding on Mike's shoulders!
Side note, cigarette prices are sky high in Washington. I don't smoke, so I'm not totally hip to the prices but $10 a pack seems pretty high. Luckily there is a place right next to the venue that has some crazy ciggarette making machine. It's like Willy Wonka for smokers. A tim recorded the whole process, but you basically buy the tubes and the tobacco and then load it up and then like a hundred smokes pop out. It's crazy. Try it. I almost picked up the habit so I could buy some.
We are actually kind of ahead of schedule and get to the venue about 3 hours early. Were also on a tight budget this year so Mike takes to the phones to get the cheapest room we can find. Getting bored with the standard conversation, Mike on the phone has become a traveling, poor-with-money, but rich-with-spirit Christian rock band. It's awesome. It hasn't really brought a discount but it does bring for much entertainment. We get a lock on a room 8 miles away from the venue. It's a little far, but the price is right so we head for it. As we remember from last year, everything is big in Tacoma so 8 miles is like 20 regular miles. Once we get there, it's not lookin so hot. One of the wings looks to be condemned so we say fuck it, lets just wait and get one later. Now for the fun part. All we have to do is get back to the venue we were already at. The Tims pop the address in and Ed makes like a tree and gets outta there. We hit the highway but Ed doesn't like the vibe so he cuts left and calls on the GPS to reroute us through the back roads. Now, I'm not one to question the directions, but things aren't looking too familiar and even in Tacoma miles this seems like a long trek. Ed's not going down without a fight though. Not even when we turn into a neighborhood filled with cul de sac's. Not even when it says we're there and we are outside of a ranch style home. I think Ed is still considering parking and starting to load out. Meanwhile, we are now on the verge of being late back to the venue. I text Jeff who has become the Charlie to our Angels. He advises me to let Ed know to take off his google goggles and buy a fucking map! Somehow, we get back on to a highway and re-calculate where we are going. It's also rush hour traffic at this point and we miss our exit. Things are not coming up Boldtype today.
Eventually we get back (about 2 hours of extra drive time and by my giant calculations, maybe 15 Tacoma miles. Not too late, but feeling silly because we were 3 hours early at one point. Anyway, the BSBG is really nice to us. I don't know how to describe it. It's sort of like Coyote Ugly in that the waitresses dance on the bars in between bands and sort of like some of the 80's rock bars in Denver where the fog machines are aplenty, but they also put on punk rock shows. Again, i can't say enough how nice they were to us and when we played our set, the crowd was really responsive. Its also really cool to come back to towns we've been before and see some of the people remember us. Also the Tims came alive tonight. It was awesome! From the first song, things went nuts, beers got spilled speakers got jumped on and at one point Tim was riding on Mike's shoulders!
Side note, cigarette prices are sky high in Washington. I don't smoke, so I'm not totally hip to the prices but $10 a pack seems pretty high. Luckily there is a place right next to the venue that has some crazy ciggarette making machine. It's like Willy Wonka for smokers. A tim recorded the whole process, but you basically buy the tubes and the tobacco and then load it up and then like a hundred smokes pop out. It's crazy. Try it. I almost picked up the habit so I could buy some.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Day 5 - Portlandia
Medford is a different place in the daylight. I still like it, but it's got a different vibe. A kind of...eyebrow optional, dudes named after car parts vibe. I'm not talking shit, we've literally met both of those on our way out this morning. None the less, I like Medford and hope to rock there again soon. But now it's off for sweet redemption in Portland. I am so hung over at this point that all i can do is try and hold it together from the room to the truck. Doing a quick inventory I see I am not the only one. We do an idiot check before we leave and find a Tim under the bed, load him up and head off.
This is an important show for us. Last year, the sound was crazy and it didn't go off so well for us despite a big crowd. I want us to have a great show this year so i do what any respectable guy in his thirties would do. I sleep sitting straight up packed in a truck like our merch boxes. I got a tim next to me that is out like a light and wearing his underwear on the outside of his pants. Yep. It's a been a rough morning for all of us. We drive in silence, and in the few times I wake up I want to give Ed shit about his music choices. Unfortunately, words aren't really coming out for any of us, so I just fall back asleep and vow to remember it later.
Have I mentioned yet that Tim (stinger) has a backpack of socks? Not much else, but the guy is like MacGyver. He seems to solve all of our problems with random shit that is either in or attached to his backpack. I can't wait until he uses his parachute.
Anyway, we get into Portland with just enough time to start loading in. The place is a theater and is really nice. Portland in general is pretty cool. We load in, do a sound check and then split off for dinner. Me, mike and Tim hit a pho restaurant with Justin from guttermouth while the other dudes hit coney island. Manny hits the truck for a whiskey sandwich hold the bread.
So (sigh...). I have to tell this part of the story because it's just part of being on the road. If you are going to tour, you have to be able to go to any public restroom. It's just how it goes. If they are out of service you have to make due. Mike, Tim and i are at the Pho restaurant and nature comes calling. I am the last to go. Tim thankfully lets me know that the mens room is having some problems so my only option is to use the girls. It's a one person restroom so it's not a huge deal and there are only like two other tables in the whole place so the odds are good that no one notices anyway. I make a break for the bathroom. Damn the luck, some lady starts knocking. Nothing I can do at this point. A short time later, I come out. She gives me the old, what the fuck are you doing in there look so I respond verbally "sorry the mens room is broken". She rolls her eyes, which pisses me off because why would I just choose to go the wrong bathroom? But she gets her comeuppance. As I make a swift movement for the doors I hear her cry in dismay "OH JESUS!!". Sorry lady. Have a better attitude next time.
Anyway, we get to the venue. The show is well received. We played with the same band last year so it's good to see those guys again. The Tims are falling in sync and the shows are getting better and better. Also the stage is about 30 times bigger than the other two so it's fun to be able to move around more. Mike is hitting his tour stride as well. Tonight after the show, we opt to keep it pretty chill as we are still shaking off the Medford. Off to the hotel. We pull in and the security guard is waiting for us. Ed pulls the same howdy-do wave he did in earlier in the trip and keeps rolling. The hotel swoops around and apparently Ed went in the exit. So needless to say when we looped back to the entrance the security guard is standing in front of it waving us down. He is less than pleased. He wants us to back up (with a trailer) all the way back around. Ed lays down his charm by telling him to come over here and talk to him face to face and there's no way he can back the trailer up that far. Mike steps in with a sorry (and for the record, Ed did apologize as well). He finally lets us go forward and we check in. While we are checking in he comes up to Ed and tells him that he knows just by looking at him that he is a professional driver and could have backed that trailer up. I Google it. Nope. Ed is not a professional driver that could back a trailer up halfway around a motel. He is however, the third Edward Neal Chasteen which is number 1 in my book, an avid golfer a certified attorney in Spain. Thankfully he also does get us everywhere we need to go and we are very thankful for that.
Goodnight Portland.
This is an important show for us. Last year, the sound was crazy and it didn't go off so well for us despite a big crowd. I want us to have a great show this year so i do what any respectable guy in his thirties would do. I sleep sitting straight up packed in a truck like our merch boxes. I got a tim next to me that is out like a light and wearing his underwear on the outside of his pants. Yep. It's a been a rough morning for all of us. We drive in silence, and in the few times I wake up I want to give Ed shit about his music choices. Unfortunately, words aren't really coming out for any of us, so I just fall back asleep and vow to remember it later.
Have I mentioned yet that Tim (stinger) has a backpack of socks? Not much else, but the guy is like MacGyver. He seems to solve all of our problems with random shit that is either in or attached to his backpack. I can't wait until he uses his parachute.
Anyway, we get into Portland with just enough time to start loading in. The place is a theater and is really nice. Portland in general is pretty cool. We load in, do a sound check and then split off for dinner. Me, mike and Tim hit a pho restaurant with Justin from guttermouth while the other dudes hit coney island. Manny hits the truck for a whiskey sandwich hold the bread.
So (sigh...). I have to tell this part of the story because it's just part of being on the road. If you are going to tour, you have to be able to go to any public restroom. It's just how it goes. If they are out of service you have to make due. Mike, Tim and i are at the Pho restaurant and nature comes calling. I am the last to go. Tim thankfully lets me know that the mens room is having some problems so my only option is to use the girls. It's a one person restroom so it's not a huge deal and there are only like two other tables in the whole place so the odds are good that no one notices anyway. I make a break for the bathroom. Damn the luck, some lady starts knocking. Nothing I can do at this point. A short time later, I come out. She gives me the old, what the fuck are you doing in there look so I respond verbally "sorry the mens room is broken". She rolls her eyes, which pisses me off because why would I just choose to go the wrong bathroom? But she gets her comeuppance. As I make a swift movement for the doors I hear her cry in dismay "OH JESUS!!". Sorry lady. Have a better attitude next time.
Anyway, we get to the venue. The show is well received. We played with the same band last year so it's good to see those guys again. The Tims are falling in sync and the shows are getting better and better. Also the stage is about 30 times bigger than the other two so it's fun to be able to move around more. Mike is hitting his tour stride as well. Tonight after the show, we opt to keep it pretty chill as we are still shaking off the Medford. Off to the hotel. We pull in and the security guard is waiting for us. Ed pulls the same howdy-do wave he did in earlier in the trip and keeps rolling. The hotel swoops around and apparently Ed went in the exit. So needless to say when we looped back to the entrance the security guard is standing in front of it waving us down. He is less than pleased. He wants us to back up (with a trailer) all the way back around. Ed lays down his charm by telling him to come over here and talk to him face to face and there's no way he can back the trailer up that far. Mike steps in with a sorry (and for the record, Ed did apologize as well). He finally lets us go forward and we check in. While we are checking in he comes up to Ed and tells him that he knows just by looking at him that he is a professional driver and could have backed that trailer up. I Google it. Nope. Ed is not a professional driver that could back a trailer up halfway around a motel. He is however, the third Edward Neal Chasteen which is number 1 in my book, an avid golfer a certified attorney in Spain. Thankfully he also does get us everywhere we need to go and we are very thankful for that.
Goodnight Portland.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)