When we got back to the hotel after the Canopy gig, I'm getting my stuff out
of the Touring Vessel and I realize I'm missing my jacket... I had left it by
the board while doing my idiot check to make sure I hadn't left anything
behind...
...have I mentioned that I'm a big dumb animal, folks?
This jacket of mine is nothing special... it's a cruddy leather jacket that's
been abused to the point that nobody would want it, not even me... screw it...
so I reach for my handy-dandy book to make a few notes...
... and then I recall putting the Road Rash Papers journal WHERE, good people?
That's RIGHT! Give yourself a gold star in the "Participates In Class" column!
In my @$!^%* worthless, scuzzy, worn out, leave-it-to-die, no-use-to-the-
tribe-ship-it-off-on-an-iceberg-like-an-ancient-eskimo, lettin'-the-dog-use-
it-for-a-bed-now JACKET (See "Big Dumb Animal" above... read, rinse, repeat.
For best results use as a mantra, like I did for the rest of the night).
...I called (no answer), and eventually got back in a car and drove like a
fiend across the dormant campus... jumping out of the car I banged on the
front door AND the back door yelling that I HAD TO GET IN, IT WAS VERY
IMPORTANT... PLEASE FOR THE LOVE O' PETE I GOTTA GET IN THERE...
...but the girls in the Tri-Delt house wouldn't let me in, so I went back to
the Canopy to see if I could get my jacket... no luck there, either...
That night I had a dream... I was standing in a huge hall after a show and
this guy in a very nondescript dark blue suit is yammering something at me...
he looks like Molly Ringwald's dad from "Sixteen Candles", whoever that actor
is...
...hey, it's a funny movie... so what if it cuts pretty close to my high
school experiences as the über-geek...
...anyway, I was told that what we were doing was "outdated" and there was no
reason for us to keep doing what we do and I was forced back to my old job,
which in true dream form turned out to be selling garden hose at K Mart...
(Side Note: This is not meant as a slight to anyone at K Mart or the garden
hose industry... "you say it's a livin', we all gotta eat"... it just happened
to be my subconscious' version of hell that night... other nights it's stuff
like being Inspector #5 at the Fruit Of The Loom production line or watching
the Rosie O'Donnell show... and I don't want to hear from either of those
factions about this either... another Ring Ding, Ms. O'Donnell?)
In the morning I trade places with Corso and ride with John back over to the
Canopy to return a borrowed compressor to the music store next to the club...
thoughts of the book falling into the wrong hands (and subsequently into the
garbage when it's worth is determined) had me up all night... I don't write
anything of a sensitive nature in it, it's just that I need it because
sometimes my memory isn't...
...um... what was I talking about?
Luckily as we were walking up one of the bartenders had just walked out of the
Canopy... he let me in and I snatched up my jacket like a mother irritated
with her screaming child in a department store and we went to a diner for
breakfast... this place was DEFINITELY one of those places where the waitress
was greasy and the silverware was rude... but the food was alright, hard to
mess up scrambled eggs and toast... anyway.
There are TONS of state police out on the road today... John likes to cruise
just below the speed of sound so it made for an interesting drive... it's
unseasonably warm and as we're rolling along I notice bugs hitting the
windshield... driving through Greenfield, everything is indeed green, not like
the taste of fall we've been having in Chicago... even the juvenile
corrections facility looks nice (from the OUTSIDE, anyway)...
We get to our hotel in St. Louis and everyone relaxes for awhile and we head
out around 5p to find the club... as we're driving into the city the sun is
setting in an awesome display of pinks and purples with the silhouette of the
Arch against it and I thought "THIS is the fringe benefit... sights like
this..." I felt happy to be in St. Louis... this warm happy feeling lasted
right up to the point I walked into the music room at Blueberry Hill and
slowly deteriorated from then on...
The load-in for this place is in through a back door from the alley and as
we're shuffling gear around people who are gawking at pictures of the guy who
owns the place with any celebrity you can name on the walls, some woman loudly
admonishes us to "keep the door closed, rats tend to run in from the alley"...
I was shocked, but the slack-jaws didn't seem to hear her... "Look honey! Here
he is with Tanya Harding! Oooo! And here's Strom Thurman! He doesn't look a
day over 100!"...
The music is in the basement... The Duck Room... so named because Chuck Berry
plays there and does the duck walk a lot due to the low ceilings in the place,
I guess... so there's duck stuff all over the place including duck-themed
comic books on the walls in glass frames... Donald Duck, Huey Dewey & Louie,
Scrooge McDuck, Daisy Duck, and of course my personal favorite, Howard The
Duck...
(Side Note: I recognized several of the comics on the walls because I have the
same issues from when I was a kid, one of which is a Howard The Duck fighting
this evil guy with a bell for a head and a striker for a hand named Doctor
Bong... again, I couldn't make this stuff up, folks... the cover proclaimed in
a big yellow explosion "The Origin of DOCTOR BONG!"... are you tellin' me Stan
Lee didn't have a chuckle over that one? Y'know, like sitting around with his
staff giggling and saying "Think we'll get away with it? Pass the doob...".)
The stage is bare hardwood and there's a brick wall behind the stage ala an
80's stand-up comedy club, and the speakers are hung in the most inefficient
and non-imaged way possible for sight line purposes... this is a more common
situation than I'd like to admit and no fault of the house technician's, by
the way... it has to due with an owner's lack of understanding in the field of
speaker design and system installation vs. space he can sell for a show... and
as I mentioned before, the ceiling was pretty low... all this adds up to a
soundguy's Excedrin Headache #1...
On the positive side, the staff was great and took our orders for food, the
console and the rest of the gear was top-notch, and the monitor system was
decent... it's just that every time Corso hit a cymbal it was a new experience
in high-frequency induced pain as the vocal mics were almost on top of the
drum kits, Maraat's especially... I ended up turning off the vocal mics in
between lines and verses all night long, and we all know how Uncle Cameron
likes to WORK for his money, don't we, kids? Calgon, Take Me Away!
During the first set there's a fair crowd, several of which are sitting right
in front of Scott SMOKING CIGARS... now, Scott being asthmatic is slightly
irritated with this situation so he asked one of the managers during the break
if he might not have a word with these folks... maybe ask them to relocate or
something... so the guy does as he is asked and during this conversation
realizes that one of the guys is not wearing his shoes...
This is a hippie thing, this not wearing shoes routine... and I've seen more
cut feet because of it, and so bars generally frown on the practice... so the
guy is told to put his shoes on...
When the second set starts, this guy is out on the floor shuffling around...
in BARE FEET AGAIN... and again is asked to put his shoes on... this goes on
all set with the guy returning to bare feet again and again until, during the
"Sunshine Daydream" half of "Sugar Magnolia", an undercover or off-duty cop
decides to get in on the fun and inform Shoeless Joe he is breaking the law...
he reaches for the guy but the guy pushes him away, dancing again... the cop
makes another attempt and is similarly rebuffed until the cop gets one
handcuff on this guy, then the scuffle broke out...
At this point I couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but the look on
Maraat's face was slowly turning to worried, and eventually he turned and
waved the band silent... this is a couple of firsts: First time the band
stopped a song, first arrest at a DSO gig by a non-band member, but apparently
NOT the first time this guy had tangled with Johnny Law... after carting this
guy out the band kicked right into the show's encore "U.S. Blues", getting the
crowd out of their "Kill The Pigs" mood immediately and finishing the show...
after a quick huddle in the dressing room they came back out to play an
elective but they had been gone so long I thought we were finished and had
reset the console... hastily remixing the monitors and vocal mics from memory
the band got a fine "Bid You Goodnight" in before the lights came up...
We loaded out and while we were waiting for Scott to settle with the club, we
amused ourselves by writing things in the dirty rear windows of Hazdra's
van... a sampling: "Coffee!!!", "I Brake For Starbuck's", the Metallica logo,
and a nasty word under his "Mean People Suck" sticker completing the thought
in an entirely antisocial way...
On our way back to the hotel we heard a radio ad for (again, I couldn't make
this stuff up) a "Bondage & Lesbian Kissing Contest" being held at the Days
Inn right up the street from our hotel... actual quote: "...And remember, 18
and over to get in, 21 to get all LIQUORED UP!" ...we contemplate attending
but determine that most if not all the wives and girlfriends of the band would
never fully appreciate the importance of lesbians kissing and getting "All
Liquored Up"...
"...but honey... we're a ROCK BAND..."
Man, I love the road.