Day 23 – Right Back From Where We Came!

Morning came too soon today.  Not just because we only got a couple hours of sleep but because it’s time to ride the Ed Sled on one last hurrah back to town.  We didn’t say much this morning getting ready and the ride home has been pretty quiet so far.  I like to think it’s because we’re all reflecting on the last three weeks, but a quick survey tells me it’s because we’re all hung over and mostly passed out.  I spent the morning looking through the pictures I took.  It makes me happy that I took so many and also that I have a delete button.  It’s been a crazy ride and we have the scars to prove it.  Outside of all of us being sick, I have a gashed forehead and a cut nose, Jeff has a wrecked calf, Manny threw out his back, Drew messed up his hand and Mike’s totally fucked, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

I saw Ricky Gervais talk one time about what’s ok to joke about and what is too far.  In his eyes, nothing is off limits.  Either it’s all ok or none of it is.  You can’t have rules and boundaries.  I think the same is true about punk rock and more than anything, live shows.  There’s nothing we thought about or planned on stage.  Mike never knows what he’s going to climb on or if he’ll jump in the crowd, or if he’ll shave his head in a bizarre way before the show.  For what it’s worth, we find new ways to surprise ourselves all the time and I think that’s what makes interesting and unique, not just to who we play for, but to us as well.  You can’t script chaos. 

I titled this blog from one of our songs “Make Our Graves” because the line has a lot of meaning about this trip.  We haven’t played it too much, but we always keep it as an audible.  It’s the first song on the CD and the last song we played on tour.  The last hotel we stayed at (booked by the Vargas family) is attached to a gas station that we just happened to stop in our first day on tour and we’re now on our way back to a practice space we left 23 days ago.  Right back from where we came…We’re better off this way. 

Also, I think we owe a huge thanks to Ed.  We’ve all become cartoon characters of ourselves on this tour, but no one has endured more than him.  Despite the fact that we have given him shit since the first minute we left Denver (and it will continue until the last minute, I may even call him later for a few last minute zingers), he has saved our asses.  He got us everywhere we needed to be, watched the merch, stayed sober while we were hammered, woke us up in the morning, shared his short sets, his laptop, gave us internet access through his phone and was a source of laughter when we needed it most.  Thanks Ed.  You are as much Boldtype as any of us. 

And lastly, what can we say about touring with a band like Guttermouth?  On the music level, Guttermouth are vital to punk rock.  I think small venues are where punk rock should always be played and every show they played was dangerous.  There’s no feeling like being trapped in a room with wall to wall kids going nuts.  The fact that Guttermouth have been doing this for over 20 years and is still making new fans is incredible.  Incredible and relevant.  Love them or hate them, Guttermouth will turn even they’re own punk rock fans on their ear.  And they should.  They aren’t about picking a team for team-sake. They are a constant reminder to think for your self.  As far as Guttermouth the dudes, it’s hard to put into words how much fun we’ve had with them.  They’ve been mentors, friends, drinking buddies, and road warriors.  They’re no different than anyone else and they don’t walk around with any sort of ego.  They love music the same way we do and because of that, the friendship created will be as big of a memory as the opportunity to play music with you.  Cheers guys and to put it in Drew words, thanks for the sweet sweet hangins!

PS Thanks to everyone who has commented, asked about and read this blog.  Honestly, the feedback we got from city to city is what kept it going and inspired us to never turn down an adventure!  Thanks to everyone who bought a t-shirt, cd, toothbrush…it put food in our bellies and gas in our tank; everyone who shared their home, microwave, and more with us… you’re all an equal part of the production team that made this crazy ride possible. We are also grateful to our co-workers and bosses at our ‘real jobs’ for their patience and ass-covering. It’s back to pouring drinks, collating, proofreading, tossing boxes, building homes and making sure vegetables get eaten. The grass is green on both sides indeed. Madina, thanks for a great tour. Logging off…or blogging off?  What the fuck are you supposed to say at the end of these things?...

Day 22 - SLC – A White Wine Toast

The showers aren’t really working anymore and I’ve been wearing the same pants so long they’re starting to feel stiff.  We all have.  Even when I do shower, I put on clothes that are either on their second to third wear or have been stuffed into a suitcase next to clothes that have been maxed out.  The energy drinks and coffee stopped working a week ago and our patience wore off a couple days before that.  Despite everything we’ve been through for the last three weeks, it’s a strange feeling knowing this is the last show on the tour.  I love that Colorado sells liquor on Sundays now because I hear that Salt Lake City don’t play that shit.  We stop off on our way to pick up some supplies for tonight’s show including a couple of thank you bottles for Guttermouth.  I’ve known Manny for a long time but I had no idea he was so well versed in liquor.  Not just what booze is what, but how it rates, why one is better than the other, etc.  He drops some knowledge bombs on me like I’m watching a History Channel special.  He’s like the Moses of alcohol sans beard.  Crazy.  We head out and say goodbye again to our home state. 

Once again, the silent hero of Boldtype hooks it up and we have a hotel room waiting for us in SLC courtesy of Ron Vargas and family.  Thank you guys. It is amazing.  More pleasant than the room itself is that Ron told the front desk guy that the man checking in today is a georgous fellow that looks like Mel Gibson, but goes by Ed. Ed Mel Gibson’s his way through check in and gets us a room with a view up on the top floor.  There’s some irony in being in a nice hotel looking out over the city and eating ramen noodles. 

We call the Guttermouth guys to meet up and have one last dinner before the show.  An interesting thing about SLC is that everything is closed on Sundays except Mexican restaurants and Burt’s Tiki Lounge.   After much debate, we decide on Mexican food.  Ed’s cousin meets us and Mike and I ride with them, the rest of the guys follow in Guttermouth’s van.  The ride takes us all through town in search of a specific place.  One Ed is entertaining, but you put two of them in a compact car and things take a trip to crazy town.  We finally find the place we’re looking for and it’s packed.  We don’t have time to wait so we check our options.  We look around and go to the one place no one is at.  Gamble time.  The food is good enough but we’re all keeping tabs on the nearest bathrooms for the rest of the night.  I guess that’s why they don’t call it “the walks”.  Anyway, we get back to the venue a little late as the first band is playing.  I like Burt’s Tiki Lounge a lot. It is a tiny place.  I mean real tiny.  Max capacity is 49. Apparently they didn’t get the memo though because there is well over a hundred by the time we take the stage.  Manny has to set up his drums outside and carry them in right before we play.  We pull the crowd in quick and mayhem ensues.  A mosh pit breaks out and I feel like the walls are going to fall down at any second.  It starts in our second song and doesn’t end until our last note.  What an awesome way to go out.  Thanks SLC.

After the show it’s on for a lot of reasons.  First and foremost, we made it through, broken, bruised and limping, we made it through without missing a show, without killing each other and without regret.  Well…up to that point anyway.  Regret was just around the corner.  We drank Burt’s dry.  Like literally, they ran out of every kind of alcohol in the place.  The bartenders are grabbing whatever they have after the show.  Even before Guttermouth, it was just Jager and wine.  After it was just wine and beer.  The bartender offers us up some white wine that they have left.  Me, Jeff Mike and Matt from Guttermouth take a swig.  Jeff takes the whole glass down the hatch.  Hmm.  That wine tastes like piss, but it’s cold.  Kind of vermouthy.  You know what? I’ll just get to the point.  It’s piss.  Mark’s piss we think.  He had pissed in a bottle upstairs and somehow the bartenders mistook it as a bottle of wine and chilled it.  I’m not making this up.  This happened.  He didn’t mean it to and now we have a weird unintentional “water-game” bond together. Now let’s not type of this again. 

After piss-gate, we head back to Guttermouth’s hotel for some drinks and some goodbyes.  In the truck ride over, Mike gets into some baby powder and powder bombs the back seat.  I’m able to turn away as is Manny.  Drew and Dew are not so lucky.  This is just not Jeff’s night.  He gets it right in the eye hole.  Several eyewashes and whiskey shots later, he recovers and calls it a night.  We head up to the Guttermouth room, covered in powder.  The front desk lady looks at us like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or call the police.  We must look like a mime gang.  We drink and talk with the guys like we’ve been friends for years and I hope it stays that way for years to come.

Day 21 – Grand Drunk-Shun

Drew is the Continental King.  He’s figured out how to wake up minutes before the free continental breakfasts end and loot them for the rest of us.  I’m into that big time, but the last couple of days, it has slipped away from him.  He may soon be demoted to Continental Prince.  That’s alright though, I haven’t made it up for the breakfast once which probably makes me the Continental Jester.  Today we hit the road for Grand Junction. Two more shows.  We’re all surprised and humbled by a post Mark put up on Guttermouth’s Facebook page about us.  Up to that point, the nicest thing he said to us was “Boldtype?  Fuck those guys…Nah just kidding”.  Weirdly we all took that as a compliment. 

So back to the road, we pull in to “G-Junct” as I like to call it and price out some hotels.  Mike an Ed hit the phones like telemarketers and dial up every hotel in town.  We find a nice little number complete with a continental breakfast we won’t see and a cuze.  Hell yes.  I need a cuze in the worst way.  Now…hmm….alright I guess I can share this.  Ed has saved our lives in every single way on this tour (although as I type this, I am freaking out as he bonus-lane’s a bus down a two-lane highway) and today he ices the cake for me.  I left my swimming trunks (or in Boldtype language “short-set”) back in Denver.  My whole body is jacked up, as is all of ours.  The Ed Sled comes complete with multiple short sets and he offers some up to me.  The kicker is that at this point, they’ve all seen some water action.  I have a tough decision to make.  My boys and his boys playing in the same park?  Well, beggars can’t be choosers.  I roll the dice, grab the shorts and schedule a check up for when I get back home.  Mike has become a cuze aficionado.  He has a great rating system (of two star hotels and below) based on two key factors.  One is if they actually work and make bubbles and two is if the temperature gets above luke-warm.  Today’s meets both requirements, although it sounds like this soak machine is powered by a lawn mower.  Oh well, it helps none the less.  After the cuze and a short nap, it’s off to the Rocky Mountain Pub. 

We get to the venue and are super grateful that the load in is stair-free.  There are about 5 people that are already in there that are shit faced and as they leave (they’re not into that punk shit) I swear to God one of them says “Yep.  I’m the designated drunk driver tonight”.  I make a note to have what they’re having.  The security guard lets us know he’s been shot from the apartment complex next door.  I make a second note to NOT have what he’s having.  We get fed from the venue and I have to give it to RMP, your cheeseburger skills are off the charts.  Trust me. We’ve had them for 21 days and they are excellent here.  The doors open and Jeff’s freak-out meter rises slightly when we notice the door guys have gloves on and are frisking people coming through the doors.  It takes another jump when we see the security nailing down a wood cover onto the pool tables.  Literally hammer and nailing that shit in.  He’s one chain-link-fence-around-the-stage away from total freak-out.  No worries though, he just needs a cool down shower and he’ll be back in the game. 

Once the show starts, I hit the merch booth and catch the first two bands.  They are both good and we all enjoyed them.  Also, it’s cool to see so many Denver band stickers up here.  Grand Junction treats Denver bands well.  One thing that is different about this show is that there are more people around the bar than the bands.  Any of them, including us.  We get up there and play a great set.  We actually get a fairly good draw of people up to see us when we start, but apparently they kept getting in fights and getting kicked out.  By the halfway point, it seemed like our crowd had dwindled down or just made it back to the bar.  Also in the second song, Jeff goes on a tear.  Not just his guitar playing, his calf too.  After the show he’s down to one leg which is great news for his famed pirate impression, but bad for his rock career.  After the set, we scatter to our post show positions.  Before hitting the merch booth, my curiosity gets the better of me at the bar.  They have these really cheap shots called “Black Eye Kamikazees”.  Just a fair warning, don’t say that too fast when you order it from the bar keep.  Another fair warning, you get what you pay for.  They don’t taste great, but the price is right and I can’t pass up a deal.  Unfortunately, I am still paying the price the next day.  Meanwhile, Mike goes outside for a smoke.  A cop pulls up, gets out of his car and walks up to the venue.  He forgets to put his car in park though and the cop car starts repeatedly running forward into the wall of the venue!  Man, I couldn’t write something that funny.  That is just priceless.  I don’t know why he was there, or what happened next.  I laughed so hard when Mike told me the story that I forgot to find out the rest. 

Post post show, we load up and Jeff and I get dropped off at the hotel. Those drinks caught up to me fast and I need to pass out or throw up and rally.  I choose the safe route and help Jeff and his bum wheel in to the hotel room.  The rest of the guys hit Guttermouth’s hotel room to finish what they started with their foe Evan Williams.  Mike gets a razor from Dave and shave’s his mowhawk into some kind of eastern traditional monk-hawk.  Then they bail and hit a party at the promoters house.  The party was confined to a quarter of a garage, stacked with people and beers wall to wall. The theme here was tightness.  Like Sardine tightness. So tight the beer cases doubled as furniture.  The Ed-Sled maintained while the rest partied, but Ed was not without his one liners.  As a girl tries to squeeze by, the sled quips “Hey! It’s pretty tight in here huh?”  He’s part Wikipedia, part merch master, but all heart…

Day 20 – Underneath the Vail of Darkness

Today the winter tour weather finally caught up to us.  It’s been snowing all night and we have Vail pass waiting for us.  The boys take an early morning Cuze to ease the nerves.  Manny takes an early morning trip to booze town and I take to writing a will.  We’re all on edge about the drive except Ed.  He’s out front stretching and pep-talking the sled.  He’s all killer and no filler today.  I buy him a Dr. Pepper as a token of good will, but he waves it off.  Carbonation is bad for his wheel hand. We’re off and I lay down in the back seat.  Now I would love to spin a yarn about the treacherous journey that ensued, but in all seriousness, Ed crushed the driving today.  He literally whipped us up and down the mountain more efficiently than the plows.  I know because we passed them.  When we got to the bottom, we noticed that we were one of the last to get through before they shut it down for about 45 minutes.  Thanks Ed.  We owe you buddy. Sheriously.

Side story, I cracked the mystery of Jeff the ninja.  As it turns out, his disappearing act almost always results in him taking a shower. He’s the most hygienic guy I’ve ever met.  If this band thing fails, he has a bright future as one of those people that have sushi served off of them.  Really.  He’s that clean.  He’s racked up more showers than we have miles.  We get to the hotel and it’s amazing…mountain town lobbies have a theme of wood and huge fireplaces, Mike, Jeff, and Ed head to the outdoor pool for a roll in the snow, and a game of sea creature charades. (Jeff’s not a very good shark at all, seeing as he has to plug his nose and close his eyes to swim). Mike and Drew also have a sweet lil’ surprise waiting at the front desk!  Thanks to Tala and Kenz for braving the storm.  Surprises are few and far between and greatly appreciated.

Back to the venue, the Sandbar in Vail is a cool place.  It has a high stage and a higher sort of dance podium off to the left.  We get there earlier than any show so far on the tour.  It’s weird how much waiting we do.  We wait all day in the car, then we wait until load in.  Then we set up and wait for doors.  If the venue is a restaurant, someone waits on us.  Then we wait to play and so on and so forth. 

Tonight’s show is extra “waity” because it’s a late start and there are only 3 bands, but the show is worth it and the Sandbar really took care of us.  We hit the stage around 11pm.  The stage is really big and about 3 feet off the ground.  I have to be honest, I think we translate a little better on smaller stages.  I like that uncomfortable feeling of being tangled up with each other and the audience, but this tour has been a new experience and with it comes new adventures.  We have so much room on this stage that I actually lose where Mike is multiple times.  I lost Jeff once too, but I assumed he snuck off for a mid-show shower.  I’ve been eyeballing that dance podium too.  Fuck it.  First time I jump up there no problem.  I’m feeling good.  Last song of the night is Light’s Out.  Fitting title.  There’s a long pause at the end and then it comes back with a powerful ending.  I decide I can get up on the podium and then make a run back on stage for one last chaotic hurrah.  Pause goes good. Time for the last run where my height does me dirty.  I run and leap off the podium directly the fuck into a speaker hanging from the ceiling.  Somehow I manage a sort of three point landing (inside joke for Francis) and Mike comes over to pick me up and assess the damage.  I’m guessing I’m bleeding and the look on his face makes me thankful this is the last song of the set. Talk about Light’s Out.  Also, big thank you to Drew’s wife Kenz for closing up my wound.  

Post show, I’m pretty much down for the count, which is a shame because there’s a lot of booze to be dealt with in Vail.  We have a bunch of leftover beers and somewhere in Breck, we acquired a bottle of Evan Williams so big I think it came with wheels.  The rest of the guys pick me up and party the night away with the Guttermouth guys who have not only been mentors in touring but have also become friends that will far outlast this tour.

Day 19 – Total Breckage.

I feel like this blog might be weaker than some of my other posts.  Not because we didn’t have a great time in Breck.  In fact, it was one of my favorite shows.  More or less it’s because the days are all starting to blend.  I have no idea what day is what, or what time zone we’re in, but I can tell you where every belonging of mine is and what the other 5 guys are doing at all times. I think it’s mid-week sometime.

The plan is to get in to town and find a place to stay.  We find out that some Denver friends and some Durango friends will be joining us tonight.  We stay outside of Breckenridge in Frisco because it’s a little cheaper.  When we started this tour, we were really careful about getting a room and only going in a couple people at a time, but now we don’t seem to give a shit.  I’m a little curious what the front desk person thinks after they book the room and then 6 guys, 12 various suitcases and duffel bags and 3 sleeping bags come piling in, but not curious enough to wait in the truck.  Our hotel room is lined with mirrors.  The ones behind the bed look rather tinted and suspicious.  I think the walls are going to come up and we’re going to be in a Dominos commercial or something.  Note to self.  Keep pants on and look surprised.  Tell them you had no idea and their pizza is delicious.

We get to the venue and it’s in a basement. I like it.  It’s dark, small and smells like old beer.  I’m too big for the green room though.  The ceilings are only like 5 feet tall.  Jeff gives me a pep talk.  Jeff’s pep talks have become a source for great amusement.  I don’t even know where it started, but if you see him back in Denver, you’ve gotta ask him for one.  It’s actually really tough to explain in writing.  Think a pirate without the pirate accent, more like an army colonel.  Last time I needed one, he told me something like “Hey there sniffle-upugus! Those keys aren’t gonna type themselves, so grab a Kleenex and get back into the game!”  He’s also called Drew “Little Honeybee!” and Mike “Mr. Sings-a-lot!”  I can’t tell you how much we laugh at that.  We load in and of course have more stairs to deal with.  These ones are a little better though.  They’re made of metal and have built in spikes for traction. 

The opening band is great.  They play a lot of fast aggressive songs and have a great sense of humor.  I miss that kind of punk rock.  We get on for our set and win over the crowd fast.  Small shows with small stages are the most fun places to play.  We play the Gina Go Faster cover again and an old friend from Denver jumps up and sings it with us.  Seeing familiar faces goes a long way when you’re on the road and surprises are even better.   Mike, or the crowd (not sure which one) knocks a microphone into my nose and it starts bleeding.  Drew gets the same treatment a few songs later.  It’s a perfect ending to a great show.  We finish to a great crowd and Guttermouth gets up.

I know I haven’t talked too much about Guttermouth sets on this blog but they’re all great.  Tonight’s though is epic.  It’s everything that punk rock should be.  The room is small, there’s a packed crowd, and right before they hit the stage there’s almost an uneasy feeling because everyone is so close to each other.  Punk rock isn’t comfortable and although I like that punk rock bands have become successful I feel like it is best translated to places like Three 20 South.  Also, our bond with Guttermouth has grown considerably since we started and tonight it is crowned.  Mark calls Mike up on stage to start ‘Bruce Lee vs. kiss army” with them.  It’s an honor.  Although he also said he was looking for the “chinkiest mother fucker in the place” and then said Mike was “straight off the boat”.  Mike returned the favor by starting the song in his native tongue to great amusement by Mark.  It worked great and everyone loved it.  I don’t know how to end this blog so I’m turning it over to Jeff for a pep talk.  Goodnight Breck.  You guys fucking rule…

Day 18 – Crested Butte - A Tale of Two Cleaning Ladies…

So when we first got to South Fork, there were two cleaning ladies that were cleaning up our condo for us.  Very nice.  One was actually one of the show promoters.  I guess in South Fork, a cleaning lady is bound by contract to stay on site throughout the duration of your stay because they never really left the whole time we were there.  They bought us beer, and put up with our shit.   They didn’t clean too much after the first day, but we’ll let that slide.  The place was gigantic anyway, so they weren’t really in our way and Mama Lee and Cassie were really cool to us.  Our plan was to sleep in and make a short 4 hour trip in to Crested Butte but at 9am, hospitality runs out like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight and I am rudely awoken by some loud knocking at the front door.  I stumble to the front and open it up.  What the fuck?  New cleaning ladies and these ones are mean as shit. She starts yelling at me about how we need to get out of here right now and who’s the smoker and they have to clean this all up and probably some more things, but I shut her off at that point because my hangover isn’t ready for this kind of confrontation.  This lady is nuts.  Off in the distance, I hear Mama Lee yell “I thought I was the cleaning lady!?”.  Shit is getting real in South Fork.  I tell her I’ll get the rest of the dudes.   She starts knocking again in less than five minutes and Drew gets the door.  She’s still ranting about smokers and whatnot and now is basically coming in to clean whether or not we’re ready.  She apologizes and yells at the same time like she has insult tourettes.  Her and Ed almost go toe to toe all Spokane style but cooler heads prevail.  Mama Lee and Cassie offer to make us breakfast before we go in their hometown of Creed before we head off to Crested Butte.  Lesson learned on the road.  Never under any circumstances do you turn down free food.  Not even when Jeff pays for it.  Not even when Ed cooks it.  Hmm.  Well at least we have a place to cook it.  Sort of.  Cassie has to kick her dad out of the house before we can go in.  I’m sure he’s psyched to be kicked out of his own house so his daughter can entertain 6 guys.  He makes a wave at Mike that either means good morning or you’re lucky I’m out of bullets.  We eat a delicious breakfast ala Chef Ed and say our goodbyes.  Next stop the Butte.

On the ride into Crested Butte I marvel at how good we’ve become at sleeping in odd car positions.  David Blaine can fucking suck it.  The sled pulls into town right on time and we load in to the Eldo.  We’re all tired of moving gear around but tonight’s stop proves extra difficult.  There’s a two story hike up a rickety old stair case that (for added difficulty points) is covered in ice.  Crested Butte’s theme is not salt.  Jeff pulls out a pair of ninja spikes that attach to his shoes and we take turns playing load-in roulette up the icy staircase.

Once we are in the venue I am immediately psyched.  Partially because I survived the walk into it, but mostly because it reminds me of places we’ve played before.  Mountain towns are great for punk rock.  There are tons of jam bands in these towns so when a punk show hits they go nuts.  The staff is complete with “Fuck you Hippies” t-shirts.  We get a free meal and all of the in-house beer we can drink. That’s dangerous news to hear at 6pm.  For the record, if you’re ever at the Eldo, the Pilsen Ale is fantastic.  Tonight does not disappoint.  From the first note of the Derels, the crowd is running into each other and spilling beer everywhere. We hit the stage after them and the party continues.  Everyone at the Eldo brought their party shoes tonight.  As a band, there is no better feeling than starting a show with half of the crowd up front and ending it with all of the crowd up front.  Even Justin and Francis make it up to join in “More After This”.  Tonight also has a special guest appearance by our good friend Joel from Gina Go Faster.  We play “Dead Tired” and he joins us on stage.  It was an Epic time.   Less than epic was the post show load out.  It sucked on the way in when I was sober.  It was a disaster after we all tried to break the bank on “all you can drink” and it started snowing.  No problem.  The Ed Sled is built for snow travels.  The other 5 passengers are not.  We stumble back to the hotel for another great night in the books.  Crested Butte.  We can’t wait to come back.  Now off to try and sleep like a normal person…

Day 17 - Sweet Sweet Hangins in South Fork

It’s 6am on day 18.  I’m on the floor in the living room of a 7 bed condo, fully clothed (shoes and all) and my camera is still strapped to my wrist.  What the fuck happened last night?  Time to view the playback.  Hmm.  Last picture explains why I’m on the floor.  Mike was on the floor with some sunglasses on and I thought it would be funny to take a pic with him.  Apparently, I also thought it would be funny to pass out for the night there.  Previous pic was me taking a picture of myself in a mirror.  I was drunk, but wanted to confirm it in the morning.  Consider that confirmed.  About three pics back and the pieces start coming back.  There’s still a few pieces missing, but for the most part here’s how our day off went down.

Our day was mostly spent away from each other.  Not that we don’t like hanging out, but this place is big and we all have some down time to catch up on things. Mike and Ed head off to grab a bite to eat in town and stock up on supplies.  What they find out is that all of South Fork is hungover. Shops are closed because of it.  Interesting.  Manny is holed up in his room recovering still.  Jeff is…you know I have know idea where Jeff is.  Probably sharpening his chinese stars somewhere.  When evening hits, the Guttermouth guys join us for a barbeque.  Mike is all over it.  The guy can cook.  He’s got four burners going and manning the grill at the same time.  I’m all over it too.  I am drinking a whiskey and coke and a beer.  You see life is all about variety.  Between us and the other guys, we have a lot of variety tonight.  Vodka, Beam, Wine, Jameson, Sweet Tea Vodka, Jager and two 30 packs of beer.  Side note, Dave made us some of the best spicy barbeque chicken I have ever had.  Thanks man.  That shit was legit. 

So the night goes on and bottles are dropping like kamikaze planes.  Maybe rest wasn’t what we needed. Back comes the acoustic and more drinking and singing.  Dave also teaches us a sweet dice game called 1324.  I get hot on the dice and pick up some cash.  Jeff gets hotter on the dice and takes back my money.  Then we play a card game that has something to do with horse races. It’s a drinking game.  Just what we need.  More bottles fall victim.  I fall victim to a limbo contest.  Ed wins by a landslide and then lectures us on the intricacies of leverage and balance.  Sheriously. The secret he says is to bend at the knees.  Mike spearheads a new gang.  The no-t-shirt gang.  Mike and Drew run outside in the freezing temperatures of South Fork to claim rights to the land. This is probably the point that we run out of booze.  Mike warms himself by the fire with some sunglasses.  It reminds me I need to take a picture of that.  Goodnight South Fork.  At least I think that’s what happened. 

Day 16 - South Fork – To Err is Human, To Forgive Ed…Divine.

Yeah van call wasn’t great this am.  We woke up one Drew short of a band.  He crashed out with Guttermouth and didn’t have a way to get back to our van.  He takes the morning ride with them to South Fork.  We’re all a little late, but no worries we planned for this.  What we didn’t plan on was Manny still being in such bad shape.  He can’t even keep liquids down.  We hit a grocery store and pick up some Pedialyte for him.  He passes out in the back of the van and we’re off.  The GPS is back up which makes us all happy.  Mike and I wake up every morning with a trashed voice.  We drink vitamin water, hot tea and Pedialyte all day and by show time it’s functional enough to continue.  We make it in to the town of South Fork and for the first time this trip, Johnny Law is on our tail.  Damn.  Our luck had to run out somewhere and it looks like it’s here.  Johnny Law is actually Jenny Law and she is the nicest lady in town.  I’m talking Boise nice.  She says she saw the Ed Sled doing 67 in a 40, but didn’t lock it in until we were at 60.  20 over is a big fine so she says she is going to drop it down to 19 over to save us some money.  We give her the required info.  Insurance is expired.  She says she’ll let it slide.  Also, she says carrying a kid in the back without a seat belt is another bad move (side note, she mistakes Manny for a small child).  She’ll let it slide.  Nicest lady ever.  Then she goes to run our info and comes back with some bad news.  Apparently there’s an old ticket that didn’t get paid and Ed’s license is not valid.  But guess what?  Today is our lucky fucking day.  She just asks that someone else drive.   Mike get’s behind the wheel and we’re forced to refer to the ride as the Mike Rack since the sled is now out of business.  Good news is Ed does deserve a break.  He’s been crucial to this whole trip and tonight he gets to relax and have fun. 

We roll into Biggins and they are still constructing things.  The PA is the opening band’s gear and they are still setting up.  No biggin.  We’re down with whatever.  Now before I go any further I want to point out that although almost every town has been hospitable to us, I don’t think it get’s any nicer than South Fork.  We knew the promoter had a place for us to stay, what we didn’t know was that it was a 4 bedroom, 7 bed townhouse with tv’s in every room, a full kitchen, laundry, etc.  It is one of the nicest places I’ve ever stayed at.  In addition, the venue is feeding us, giving us a bar tab and overall treating us incredibly. They have T-shirts made with ours and Guttermouths name on it for all of the staff at the show.  Crazy.  The thing is, South Fork is a small town, if we get 200 people at the show it’s a huge success.  I’m not sure if we hit the number or not, but again people are too kind to us for every second that we are there except for when we actually played.  Don’t get me wrong, we had a great time.  Mike climbed a rail and when he jumped back on to the stage it partially broke.  There was about 20 of the kids there that really got into it, but the rest all kind of watched from about 50 feet away.  They still applauded after every song, and had nothing but good things to say but I get the feeling that punk rock doesn’t come through South Fork too often.  Guttermouth gets a similar reaction but a little better.  They come a little closer but one lady is utterly offended.  16 days in I am still confused when people get offended by Guttermouth.  They aren’t called Angelmouth or Tows-a-nice-line-mouth.  They’re Guttermouth for fucks-sake. But besides the few people who I don’t think knew what they signed up for, it was a really fun time in South Fork. 

After the show it’s back to our palace for an after party.  We have tomorrow off so we’re taking it up a notch tonight.  Mike starts in on the ride back.  He makes a sweet Whiskey Tango mask complete with eye-holes (yep that shit is still in the sled..er rack) and starts chucking donuts at us.  Manny is at the wheel.  We’ll call it the Mandwagon.  We make it to the place in one piece and pile in for some much needed enjoyment.  The Guttermouth guys come over and out comes the acoustic.  It’s funny collectively how many random songs we know.  It’s even funnier when you’re hammered and no one remembers them.  Also, add to Justin’s resume of skills, human jukebox.  He is legit.  He can run a one-man karaoke party in his tattoo shop someday and the people will line up.  Seriously.  He’s a talented dude. I tap out somewhere around 5am, but the party goes well into the sixes and I can’t wait for a long overdue day off tomorrow.  Thank you South Fork.  Your theme is hospitable and we are so incredibly grateful for that.

Day 15 – CO Springs – Even Grey Suitcases Have Their Day

For the last 2 weeks, I have been carrying around a rather large, rather grey 1980’s suitcase.  It has been beaten up, thrown across a parking lot in Spokane (thanks Mike and Drew), kicked and stuffed into a trailer every which way till Sunday.  Leaving Denver this morning I realize I don’t need such a big bag.  I have options but I haven’t lost anything yet and you don’t take a pitcher out in the eighth inning when he’s throwing a no hitter right?  Fuck it.  I’m not even taking out my dirty clothes.  I load up the grey beast and head off to meet up with the guys.

I think Ed has grown quite close to the sled.  We only had a few hours this morning and he’s already washed and vacuumed it.  That’s a welcome treat because it was getting to be quite a mess in there.  We head out for the springs.  We’re all in about the same shape as my suitcase, but our equipment is even worse.  Last night I broke a wheel off my amp.  I rigged up a fix on it, but I’m not sure it’s going to make it.  Drew spent this morning on the hunt for a new cab because he blew a speaker in Fort Collins.  Jeff’s cab has been in and out of service for a few stops now and Manny’s replacing drum heads like socks.  All of this is bad but not quite as bad as the betrayal one piece of equipment was about to make.  Ed has GPS’d us all over the northwest so far.  It has become his crutch.  We laugh sometimes because he’ll still be referring to the GPS when we can physically see the stop ahead.  He drives with it, walks with it, and I think does unmentionable things to it at night.  But apparently it’s tired today too, because it just craps out when we hit the springs.  Ed is lost.  Emotionally and literally.  Mike tries to console him with the Atlas again, but it’s no use.  Lucky for us, Jeff knows the Springs pretty well and guides us in to the venue.  Speaking of Jeff, have I mentioned his hat yet?  If I haven’t, let me do the honors.  He has this winter hat that has two ropes coming out the side doors.  Mark from Guttermouth said it better than I could possibly write.  He said the hat fits his personality and that it’s like the hat is cruising but he’s not sure who’s driving it.  Priceless.  Jeff often uses the ropes to describe his emotions instead of words and I laugh every single time.  Two ropes up is good. Two ropes down is disappointment and my fave is the one up, one down split decision. 

The Black Sheep is a cool place to play.  The sound guy’s name is Chris, but he goes by “Sizzle”.  He nicknames me “The Badger” at sound check because he thinks I look like a mean badger.  It’s a sharp contrast from last night’s “Sugar” but I’ll take it.  Thanks Sizz. The Badge is into it.  We check and I can’t help noticing how loud it is.  I don’t know if I am just rocking too hard or my earholes are damaged but this is probably the loudest venue we’ve been in so far.  After check, we look around for a bite to eat.  We have a food buyout, but we’re still trying to eat on the cheap because any thing we save can go towards hotels and gas.  Walking distance leads us no where, but we do pass a Bates Motel.  Its theme is horror.  It actually looks scarier than the set on Psycho.  They sell rooms by the week, but I’m guessing you will probably be whacked in the first couple of nights so I recommend the nightly rate.  We hop in the Ed-sled (sans GPS) and Jeff directs us to a row of fast food restaurants.  We choose Taco Bell.  Now I admit that this was a bad choice.  The thing is, we have had nothing but cheeseburgers and pizza and anything Non-Cheeseburger or Pizza-like sounds delightful.  Manny already doesn’t feel great, but he has one taco and is down for the count.  He makes it through the show but spends the rest of the night throwing up in a hotel bathroom.  He ran so fast to the bathroom at one point that he actually gave himself a black eye running into something on the way.  He would like to commend the hotel on its bathroom floors though.  He said they were the best floors he’s passed out on since Seattle.  But back to the show, it’s a pretty good crowd and a fun show to play.  In all honesty, I learned a lot from it.   I love playing music. I really do.  Once we hit the first chord I was fine, but leading up to that moment I was fucking beat.   Real beat.  It’s not like we can just stand up there and play our songs.  We have to give it our all every night.  We can’t mail it in and hope for the best.  I dig deep.  We all dig deep and pull out a great show.  Mike is on point and we deliver.  It’s cool to see some old friends come out to see us. One of those friends, Jake and his wife Sylvia show up and offer to put us up for the night.  That is awesome.  Guttermouth takes the stage.  These guys are a lesson in being professional.  They can’t be feeling any better than us, but they never miss.  Tonight is no exception.  They kill it like residents of next door’s motel.  Amidst the chaos, our boy Jake goes down.  The back of his head is split up like the left side just broke up with the right.  Seriously.  It is not good.  His wife takes him to the ER and this is where the band takes a split.  Manny and I break off with our girlfriends, I think half of the Guttermouth guys go to the hotel too, but the rest of the gang gets nuts and hits a tattoo parlor.  Justin has been talking about a snowman bandito for a while and tonight’s the night.  Since I wasn’t there I can only put some of the pieces together, but most of the guys got the tattoo done by a professional.  Mike got his done by Justin from Guttermouth.  To clarify, Justin has never tattooed anyone in his life.  It actually looks pretty good.  He’s a natural shader.  It’s crazy how good at things that guy is.  Report from the ER, Jake is ok, but needs 6 staples in the back of his dome.  Ouch.  The guys make it back to Jake’s place and crash out.  Van call is going to be a bitch tomorrow…

Day 14 – Denver – Stones, Bones and Microphones

Waking up in Denver is strange.  I still think I hear Ed’s ’57 firing up from 2 cities away, but maybe it’s in my head.  Or maybe I’ve just grown so used to it I sort of miss it.  Wait.  Nevermind.  That shit is a RELIEF!  But back to Denver; don’t get me wrong, we’re all excited to be home.  Some of us have wives or girlfriends and kids and dogs (the 4 legged kind, not the gangsta lean friend kind) that we’ve all missed for 2 weeks and that feeling of seeing them can’t be replaced.  For me, looking at a stack of mail is something I wish could be replaced.  It sucks.  Also, it reminds me that this crazy journey has an expiration date and eventually there’s a real life waiting for us back home.  But that stack of mail and real life is going to have to wait.  Today is our day.  We’ve been talking up Denver the whole tour and the Guttermouth guys are all ready for a big show.

First stop though, we promised Justin from Guttermouth some bowling. I like throwing stones myself so I’m looking forward to it.  Mike sets me up in the system as Sugar.  Giving each other nicknames has become another pastime.  So far, Meatsy (Drew) has really stuck.  Manny has become Mandelbaum (in tribute to a Seinfeld episode) and today I’m Sugar.  No worries because I have some sweet, sweet bowling skills.  It’s good to see some of our buddies meet us up like Matt from No Bueno! And Ross from Noisegate.  We throw a few, have some beers and head off for load in.  The Giggling Grizzly isn’t open yet so we walk next door to LoDo’s.  Their theme is “Chads”.  In Denver, Chad’s are dudes that still live their frat boy lifestyle, complete with lots of cologne, bad pick up lines, designer jeans and polo shirts.  Tight polo shirts.  That’s not to say that every dude in LoDo’s is like that.  It just seems like a lot of them like this bar.  Also, I think a lot of them go by the name Chad. 

The plan was to load in, sound check and get back to the Giggling Grizzly for a spaghetti dinner that Jeff had set up.  Sound check runs a little late and it’s 20 minutes till doors.  We get word that there are only about 200 tickets left and there’s a line forming outside.  Fuck yes.  I have to forfeit my spaghetti dinner for watching the merch booth.  Fuck no.  It’s ok though, I love the pizza at the Marquis.  Doors open and people are headed in. Then more people are headed in.  Holy shit the show is sold out!  Denver delivered on their end, time to repay the favor. 

I can’t speak for everyone in the band, but I can tell you that it was one of the most amazing shows I’ve ever played.  The crowd was crazy, Mike was crazy.  The mosh pit went in circles like a crazy Susan dishing up sides of crazy to everyone around.  It was beautiful and chaos, everything you could ever want in a punk show.  Mike ended up upside down tap dancing on the ceiling.   

I need to keep the post show pretty filtered…We party a lot on the road, but when we have home field advantage it’s lights out.  Tonight was a victory.  It was a damn near shut out.  Thank you Denver.  You’ll always have our hearts.

Side note – We want to thank all of our friends and family for showing up to support us in Denver.  We talk about friends and fans all the time on the road because you guys are always there with us.  It was so great to have Gary Ray up on stage singing along with us, seeing Miriam still in the front, Matt and Dan cracking jokes somewhere off to the side.  There are countless others so if you were there, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

Day 13 – A Day with the Bros in FoCo

It’s a weird feeling knowing everything you have is in a bag.  In my case, two bags because I overdo everything.  I count my things all of the time in fear I’m going to lose something and losing something small like a phone charger can be life changing.  I consider asking Ed to install a pay phone and a roll of dimes into the sled just in case.  Nah.  Not enough time, we have to get to Fort Collins for our first show back in our home state. I do my morning count of my belongings and load up into the trailer.  Damn I’m fast.  I’m like rain-man-counting-toothpicks fast.

On our way to Fort Collins, we stop for gas in Chugwater, WY.  I think it’s Wyoming still.  Shit, it could be Utah for all I know.  When we started this trip we would all point it out when we crossed state lines, but that died about 5 states ago.  Chugwater is a small town, famous for their chili.  It even has free samples in their gas station.  They also sell mini branding irons that you can heat up with a lighter.  Mike is wise beyond his years to pass on making this purchase.  The last thing I need is to pass out drunk and wake up with the letter L on my face. 

Tragedy strikes when we lose a member of our crew forever outside of Chugwater.  I call her Carla (Inside joke from Medford). Carla is the power converter that allows us to plug things in like phone chargers, laptops and anything else requiring power.  When it goes down, we all go down.  Ed’s GPS, phone, hotspot and my spirits.  All down.  Thankfully Mike has an old atlas on standby.  He calls out the turn by turn to Ed in his best GPS navigator voice and we make into Fort Collins early.  Our first point of business is getting to Walmart for a new converter.  Simple as that sounds, with no navigator or internet in an unfamiliar place, it’s not so easy.  To this day (which is just the next day) I’m not sure how we found one.  Sometimes the Ed-Sled just comes through.  We’ve been in a handful of Walmarts on this tour.  Weird how their all the same.  Weird how someone is always killing it in the bathrooms there.  They must have comfortable seats or something.  We get the new converter and head to the parking lot.  The last two weeks have turned us into a pack of animals.  I didn’t realize that until Mike and Ed devoured a whole chicken in the parking lot of the Walmart.  No tools, no sauce.  Poor bird never saw it coming. 

We get to Hodi’s to sound check.  Cool place that I haven’t been to in years.  Fort Collins is a really cool college town and I’m just saying that because I went to college here.  It is cool though.  A lot of bands we love came from this town and it is an honor to be here.  No hotel for us tonight.  We’re driving home afterwards to save money.  There’s a live stream of the show tonight as well so we need to play well and I need to do those long overdue pushups.  The first band Pterrorrdaktyl kills it and then we’re up.  We have a couple of technical difficulties at the beginning but we pull through.  Even when things aren’t perfect, we’ve become a tight enough band to pull through when we need to.  The crowd is in to it.  We all move around stage quite a bit so it’s always a gamble with cords.  Tonight is no exception.  Mike and I are tangled up from the get go and never quite untangle.  Assessing the knot tying damage post show I realize if we ever fail as a band, I think we have a bright future in the boy scouts.  We meet a stout young fellow post show who offers up a view of his tattoo for a t-shirt and says we won’t be disappointed.  This is the first time this has happened.  I thought the band handbook clearly stated only beautiful women would make this offer, but when in Rome…

Yeah ok it was worth it.  In lieu of “thug life” across his stomach, it said “Delicious” in gummy worm font.  Nice guy.  Funny tattoo.  Thanks for the laughs, and thank you to Kira and the Local MC for streaming the show.  We got emails and texts from multiple states after the show that loved the stream.  Congrats to Brandon and the rest of the dudes in Teenage Bottle Rocket…great talking to you. It took us forever to load up after the show and I learned a lot from behind the building at Hodi’s.  First, there are a lot of cops doing cop things in Fort Collins.  Second, college kids love to piss in alleys and parking garages.  It’s like a frat house wiener convention out there and I’m wishing I brought some galoshes…

Day 12 – My Closest Friend The Atrium. The A-Tri-Um.

I have every NOFX song stuck in my head.  Not some.  All.  Why you ask?  Every club on the stop plays them before and between bands.  I love that band to death, its just one of those things that has become monotonous about touring that I didn’t expect.  Every morning we wake up, rush to get our shit in the van.  Do about 3 dummy checks (the first two are just practices) and get in the truck.  Two guys sleep in the back.  Ed mans the ship with a co-captain.  I sit behind the driver seat when I’m not sleeping with a co-joke captain to keep us occupied. We take turns giving each other shit about stupid things like decisions we made the night before and they turn into inside jokes that save our sanity.  We drive for hours falling in and out of conversations and stumble over Whiskey Tango merchandise in every nook and cranny of our vehicle.  Side story and explanation, back in Seattle one of the opening acts was a band called Whiskey Tango.  Very nice fellas and played a great show.  Afterwards, I believe the singer got a little tipsy or as I like to call it got all Boldtype on Seattle.  In the back lot when we were loading out, the singer starts giving us and Guttermouth merch.  Very nice.  Then he starts throwing us merch.  Ok?  Got one.  Then he just starts throwing it around the entire back lot like some kind of Seattle confetti party. CD’s, T-Shirts, Stickers. Whoa.  Might want to pump the brakes a little. So we take off and every single day since, we reach for something and instead of whatever we need (i.e. our own merch, a napkin, keys, you-fucking-name-it) out comes something of Whiskey Tango’s.  It was hysterical at first.  Then it got a little bizarre, but now it’s right back to being funny again. We’ve not actually worn one yet, but we have replaced our GPS system with a Whiskey Tango navigator, we paid for a meal in Whiskey Tango bucks and if a question ever arises, we consult our magic Whiskey Tango Ball. 

So we get into Casper on time today, early in fact and I walk in to talk to the owner.  I’ve apparently gone deaf.  I introduce myself “Hey Man.  Nice to Meet You”.  He says his name back and I say “Cool.  Great to meet you Kent.  What’s that?  Your name is Ken?  My bad.  And what’s your name?  Cool Brad nice to meet you.  Come again?  Oh Matt?”.  Jesus.  I need some coffee.  Ken is a great guy that has some great sound equipment.  Maybe best so far.  He’s got monitors everywhere including the side of the stage.  Pretty sick.  We sound check and have about an hour to kill.  The band goes splitsville.  I need a battery.  Jeff needs ninja supplies (I don’t know what he does or what he buys but it’s  seriously freaking me out).  Ed takes the sled to the hotel and I lose Drew and Manny somewhere altogether.  We rendezvous at the club and get ready for the show.  I’ve heard good things about Casper so I’m feeling pretty good about how the show is going to go.  First two bands are great and the kids are into it.  Right before we play, we see an old friend from Denver.  It’s crazy what seeing one familiar face can do for a band.  Pat and Sam, thank you so much.  It was great seeing you and thank you so much for your support.  We hit the stage and people are into it from the first song.  We’re getting better at pulling people closer to the stage.  We don’t have a lot of room to move around but we make the most of it.  Mike dives through the pit, finds a kid to high five and Drew finishes a song with his bass behind his back.  He’s like the Harlem Globetrotter of Basstown.  We close on 3 cheers to a packed and happy house.  I feel like we’re starting to really get the crowd warmed up for Guttermouth. 

After the show, I hit the merch booth with Mike and Drew.  Mike dons the Boldtype snuggie to great admiration.  Ed is working both booths and is starting to get so good behind there I think I would buy magic tonic from him off a wooden cart at a circus.  We’ve been signing a lot of stuff lately at shows, which we’re always cool with.  Cd’s, records, t-shirts, legs.  Yep. I said it.  Well, to clarify just one leg of one guy that requested.  He had both us and Guttermouth sign his leg and he was off to a tattoo shop to get it inked on.  Casper is my kind of town. 

So the show is over and we spend a couple of extra bucks on a hotel because it has a Hot Tub, or Jacuzzi, or Soak Machine, or “Cuze” as I like to call it.  As silly as that sounds, we’ve been on the hunt for a Cuze for three days now.  All fails.  Either it was closed, or broken or we just couldn’t afford it.  But not here.  Not in Casper.  The hotel centerpiece is a big atrium with tables, a lounge area, the Cuze, and a piano.  In other words, we just landed in party town, population us.  The catch is that all of the hotel rooms point to said atrium and it’s about 2am.  A drunk consensus leads to the idea that we can party at a whisper, but being that we just held our consensus meeting with our outside voices I’m not sure it’s going to happen.  Either Casper’s theme is tolerance or they sound proofed all of the rooms because we make it through without a single complaint.   Considering there was a piano, an acoustic guitar, a bottle of Jameson and Mike’s crazy cartwheel skills, that’s an amazing accomplishment.  We call it a morning and get some much needed rest before our later morning Cuze.   Thanks to our new friends and old friends in Casper and thanks for all the shoes…

Day 11 – Billings – A Day of Dude Ranchin’ and Rainbows

I don’t know where we are right now.  I’m not trying to sound all geographically challenged, but I don’t see any signs in this little rest stop.  We’re somewhere between Idaho and Montana, I’m pretty sure of that.  To my right is a small car with a couple of extra radiators in the back seat.  I guess anti-freeze is a hot issue in this town.  Inside the gas station, I wait in line for some Emergen-C and Powerade.  I caught a cold and am pseudo regretting the one on one showdown I had with my liver in Boise.  But no time for that.  I’ve got bigger problems.  Next to me is an old lady that keeps edging closer and closer to me in line.  Every time I move up one step in line she takes two.  By the time I hit the register, she’s so close I think we’re sharing a pant leg.  I fake her out with the ol’ look left step right and pay quick.

Now our plan was to get a good rest, leave at 11am and drive 4 hours into Billings, putting us there around 4pm.  About 3pm, we recheck the map and appear to still be 2.5 hours out.  Hmm. Let’s recheck that.  11am to 3pm.  Yep 4 hours in + 2.5 hours to go = 2.5 hours longer than we were counting on.  No problem.  We’ll call the venue and check load in time.  Load in at 4 and doors at 5?  Back to the math-mobile.  Shit.  We might not make doors, which means no sound check and back line.  Time to put our tray tables up, our seats in the upright position and let the Ed-Sled loose.  Ed pins back his ears and lets it go.  I’m not at liberty to say what our speed was exactly (pulling a trailer mind you), but lets just say we were one flux capacitor away from making time travel possible.  Between the Powerades and the excitement of traveling at warp speed I have to pee and we’re still about 100 miles out.  I try to use one of the bottles in the car but 6 guys pull out 7 cameras every time I do so I am forced to hold it.  Ed gets us to the venue by doors.   I change my pants and help load in. 

Billings is an interesting place.  I noticed on the lighting-rod ride in, a VCR repair shop and Crazy Doug’s Pawn Shop.  Drew is skeptical about how crazy he really is, and I wonder if every town has a famous Doug that sells shit I don’t want.  Also, there must be a fear of heights in Billings because I don’t see one building above three stories.  Not anywhere.  Once we load in, Mike and I head across to a Chinese restaurant to get some hot tea and soup.  We’re both trying to save our voices for the show and this place is close by.  Inside the restaurant Mike notices the hosts and waitresses are all of Asian descent, but the cooks in the back appear to be of Billings descent.  We sit down to a candle lit table and it seems a little weird.  I’m not sure if we should get this to go or stay and recreate the tea scene from Karate Kid II. 

We finish up and head back to the show where the kids are starting to pile in.  Good crowd in Billings and the Railyard is a cool venue.  Backstage we see a set time list from a show Against Me! played recently.  I have a feeling that the crowd in Billings is going to be pretty crazy and they don’t disappoint.  We load up on stage and get ready.  Some people have already checked us out on line and are excited to see us.  Others look kinda pissed for some reason and are starting to get restless.  That’s sort of how it goes at a Guttermouth show though.  We start the set and a pit starts with it.  Off to a good start.  Tonight Mike takes it a notch further.  Halfway through a song, I notice the pit gets crazier and some nut is hopping right through the middle of it in a trash can like he’s in a one man sack race.  I look over to point it out to Mike and realize he’s guy in the can!   You can’t put a price on that kind of entertainment.  What you can put a price on is a t-shirt.  Amidst the chaos of boldtype live set, Mike also ripped the shirt right off my back, like I was Janet Jackson at a half time show, and I wish I had done those push ups back in Seattle.  Talk about a wardrobe malfunction.  I finish out the show in a fashionable Red Stinger toga and another great show is in the books.  We got a really great response in Billings.  If it wasn’t the best, it was really close.  Thanks to I’ve Had Better for donating a shirt to me. 

Post show, we find a hotel called “Dude Rancher’s Lodge” and I realize I am no more mature than I was when we left Denver.  Mike hits a Denny’s by himself and I crash out. The rest of the gang is off to the Rainbow.  It’s where the after party is at and I hear they serve Jager shots the size of softballs.  Speaking of balls, The Rainbow is another gay bar.  This is where I check out for the night.  Goodnight Billings.

Post Script – Instead of our usual post show debauchery, we want to share a pretty incredible email we got the next morning from a fan we made in Billings.  Its one of the most humbling and incredible responses we’ve ever received from a show and will not be forgotten. 

Hey guys.

I just wanted to drop you a quick line and tell you thanks for the great show you guys put on. i was the one that was there with my family. i think all of you guys took a liking to my 10 year old son Kody. Your music was great and you had the most energy i have seen in a long time, but what i really wanted to tell you was that you guys made a huge impression on my 3 boys and my wife. Thank you so much for taking the time to show interest in my youngest son. He hasn’t been able to stop talking about how "cool" Boldtype is. Mike, thanks for taking him up on stage while Guttermouth played their set. Drew, thanks for making sure he got everybody’s signature on his CD. These are things he will never forget, nor will I. I know that it can be hard to be away from your families for extended periods of time and i guess i just want you to know that it is appreciated.You have 5 fans for life. Look forward to seeing you guys again real soon. Take care, be safe and stay true to the music...people appreciate it. If there’s ever anything I could do to help you along the way please don’t hesitate to ask.

The Eyre family