1/26/04 Wyo to Bakersfield

It has been so long since my last post that I have procrastinated doing another one since I have so much to catch up on, so here goes, the bathroom has turned from a complete disaster into a lovely room to hang out in, some day when I get home I will host a party in the bathroom and invite everyone, we can take turns admiring the toilet and such, Yay. Christmas crept up pretty quick and for that lovely holiday my unbelievable parental units had given me a theremin, the instrument used to make all kinds sci fi sound effects and the whiney sound in the Beach Boys good vibrations, so after getting it home I spent a some time playing by the light of a B52 cockpit light that my Dad gave me, it has a white and a red filter on it, in case I need to be stealthy with my theremin playing, Thank you guys. New Years saw the first inception of the "Marching Band" or as Britton had called it, the Pflugerville Special Olympic Marching Band, we played a very stilted version of Zarathrusa or the theme from 2001 a Space Odyssey, and them some other strange things, it was great, you could not have asked for a better way to usher in 2004. If any one is interested in becoming a part of the Pflugerville Special Olympic Marching Band please contact us here, (no experience needed).
On the first day of the year, the illustrious Chris Searles and impeccable George Reiff and I readied our selves for the trip to Wyoming to play a band gig, it started on the wrong foot when George entering the new tour van, titled the Soccer Rocker Mobil by Mr. Searles, stepped in the leftovers of some dogs kibbles and bits. We then drove to the airport and juggled some luggage, thinking that we are flying as opposed to driving we figured that the trip would be quick and somewhat painless, but as usual we were wrong, in order to fit into the budget of our fearless leader, we flew Southwest airlines, the cattle car of the sky, and we stopped more times than a Greyhound bus with a 2 gallon gas tank and a driver with a bladder infection, and upon each stop I discovered the entertainment value of putting my foot in my mouth when I was babbling about things that I should not babble about in mixed company. We arrived in Salt Lake after stops in what seemed to be most of the western cities in the US, gathered our things and I went to get the rental car, luckily via some persuasion we managed to get a van for the same price as our reserved mid size car that would have ended up being a Ford Taurus, got something to eat at coffee shop and started the drive into the blizzard that was brewing all around us. We drove until 2 in the morning stopped at the Thunderbird Motel in Pocatello Idaho, all in all it was a good day, since the company I was in. That morning we got up and had some food at a cafe and waited for Ian to arrive, Ian was driving in from Seattle in his new Soccer Rocker Mobil, a Subaru Outback, we then left to make in to Jackson Hole, only to be stopped by a giant sign reading Road Closed, there was no way into Jackson Hole that day, the roads had numerous feet of snow and it was windy as hell, so off to Idaho Falls Idaho we were, to stay at the Luxurious Ritz hotel, just because it is named the Ritz doesn't mean they are putting it on. That night we saw Lord of the Rings Return of the King, and ate bad chinese food. The next morning we were off to Jackson again, but this time it was successful, we checked into our condos and went to get acquainted with the venue, your typical ski resort bar, a cheesy name "The Mangy Moose" cocky sound men who suck and a giant tv right in the middle of the stage due to some dumb ass game, we attempted to sound check but it was rather hard to hear anything over the sound of said television, classy joint it was, so we rehearsed a little in our swedish designed condo, which was really cool except for the angry buffalo upstairs with ski boots on and mad buffalo disease. The show itself was rather strange, being the first time any of these songs had been taken out of the closet in awhile, stuff like Float Away, Leary's Gate, How Does It Feel, etc. we rocked some and botched some but needless to say everyone that left that club that night knew one thing, their ears hurt, and maybe their butt too. Chris Searles was playing a mid sixties ludwig drum kit that had to be the smallest thing any man of 6.5 should ever play, he looked as if it was made by playskool and he was an ogre, and the drums acted like scared cats in the middle of Johnny Cash and his Electric Bible and scattered running away from Chris as fast as they could. We then left to sleep.
At 6am the angry buffalo started stirring and dancing upstairs, in ski boots of course, and we went to go eat some of the worst food known to mankind, some potato pepper egg thing that is burned on a grill remotely reminiscent of a liquid ommlet At that point we left for the trip back to Salt Lake in the driving snow across the great expanse of Wyoming, and Ian left to go snowboarding, the trip back was highlighted by a windmill array and sub zero temperature. Once back into Salt Lake we had some Thai food and a interesting drive around the home of The Latter Day Saints. In the morning we ate at the Red Iguana and drove around looking for a goodwill that never showed itself, but we did find the Flag and snack shop, I could have spent the whole day eating snacks and waving the Peruvian flag but we had to get to the airport for the slow ass trip back home.
I spent a couple of days at home working various strange projects involving sandpaper and html, then left for San Francisco to start another infamous Ian Acoustic tour, The drive up was exciting, our new tour van had yet to get current license plates or be registered to any one living, (Ian purchased the car off his brother who acquired the car from Ian's late father's estate but never bothered to change the title) so the expected happened, I pulled up to a border check station somewhere around Las Cruces and the man in the booth asked if I was a U.S. citizen and I replied "yes" and then he asked if I had any Illegal substances and I replied "no" and the he asked if I knew that the plates were expired on the van and I replied "kind of" to that he directed me to stall 3 and asked me to step out of the car, yay! After telling them the whole van registration and why I am driving a van that might as well be stolen, across the country story, they decided to inspect all of the cases and stuff inside the van with a dog, thank god none of the processed kibbles and bit smell stuck around, the highlight was trying to describe what half of the crap we use on the road does, but luckily they decided I was not a threat to national security or a car thief and they let me go, with the Mexican nationals who happen to have 9 pounds of heroin stuffed in their nether regions holding on to the underside of our soccer rocker mobil. The rest of the trip was beautiful, I love driving across the desert and being sleep deprived to the point of no return.
Upon reaching striking distance of San Fran I opted to get a cheap hotel and catch up on sleep outside of town instead of negotiating downtown streets while delirious. The next morning I drove in and hung out with the likes of Ian and Dan of the band Court and Spark and his girlfriend Jen, super cool people who put us up for the next few nights. We played thee Parkside that night and after the first set Ian commandeered my guitar and amp and started a hoot night with the boys from Oranger and Jesse Dayton, since I am not a very note heavy player and Ian was doing things that would make alot of older fans happy in Austin, I sat back and contemplated my navel. The next night we played at The Starry Plough, we were all pumped about the show, since the P.A. at thee Parkside the night before was lacking in power and clarity, much like my brain right now, but the expected happened, we unfortunately had the worst sound man ever to sit behind a mixing board, I complained about a loud buzzing sound emitting from my monitor and his response was it's always like that, I responded by asking him to turn it off and responded with a no, you know it going to be the worst sound you can ever have when the first thing out of the soundman's mouth is "Tonight will be the best sound you have ever had".
The next night we were off to Sacramento Ca, home of my favorite banker guy, that posted a couple of times here on the website, but since I never responded he didn't show up, so I am sorry if you are reading this, smart ass. The show was fun, and uneventful. After the show we headed for Reno, we had rooms waiting for us in the towering white shithole called the Reno Hilton. The next morning Ian and I went down to the employee cafeteria to get breakfast, just like going through the lunch line in school or a mess hall, and I immediately took off to rehearse for my first solo show in a really long time. Around that same time I received a phone call from a long lost friend Matt Pointdexter, he said he saw my name in lights on the billboard in front of the towering white shithole of the Reno Hilton, and decided to call, the last time I saw him he was passed out on the bar at Check Point Charlie's in New Orleans, but this time he looked as if he was preparing to take over the world, so expect to hear more from him, like the winning of the Nevada caucus or something of that caliber. The show that night was terrible, I have been trying to block it out since, so in the spirit of alleviating my psyche I will go over it one more time and then cast out the whole experience in it entirety, to set the mood I should let you know that our mellow acoustic show just so happen to land on the same day as the National Sheep Hunters convention, no joke, so the first thing anyone says to me as I was tuning up was if I was going to play something that they could dance to, I replied "not particularly" they then asked if it was country and I said "not really" and then for one last question they asked if I was gay, my response was "I am going to play boot scooting gay country just for you" and I preceded to play mopey stuff that I forgot half of the lyrics to and couldn't hear any way since we had yet another terrible soundman night, I tried to end the set with a dance number featuring Tami's fancy ass keyboard that seems to have been built specifically for kids with giant pants and mouthsized glowsticks, but thanks to the bumbling morons at the soundboard the only thing I could here was the sheep hunters across the room talking about their last sexual encounter. That night Matt and I decided to waste a couple of bucks in the slot machine and ended up winning a good amount, not enough to lease a private jet to get me the hell out that town, but enough to buy some tacky records the next day. Matt then showed me his sprawling estate in the desert, and the tk421 module that he and his father are developing, and we geeked out for awhile with our computers, Ian called a little later that night trying to escape from a drunk filled ski lodge, and we sat around and laughed at things. I almost started this sentence off with the words "the next day" but I think I may be overusing that particular phrase, it is rather difficult to give a day to day account without having the beginning of every explanation of the upcoming day be the same, so....... Upon waking from our slumber, we said our goodbyes and boarded the van for Salt Lake city, we stayed at the same hotel I stayed at a week an a half earlier and wandered around the next morning searching for a place to get some tires, our old tires were alright, but they were getting kind of worn, and since we had to drive over all kinds of icy conditions we got us some new ones, and boy they looked as nice a new set of snow tires, but they didn't make me harder than chinese algebra, (the snow tire and algebra statements are from a discussion I had with some friends a long time ago about the worst pickup lines ever, like.. "Darlin, you look better than a new set of snow tires" or "You make me harder than Chinese algebra"). That night we played at Kilby Court, at first glance you would think that it was a dilapidated old garage on the wrong side of town, but upon closer inspection it is great, a no nonsense place to go see music, I only wish more towns had places like that. After the show we left for Colorado Springs, we stopped halfway slept a couple of hours and finished up the drive in the morning, that night we played at a house concert in the home of Don, the show was fun, the highlight for me was playing his sons midget drum kit, one even smaller than the one Chris Searles played in Wyoming. Don and his wife were nice enough to put us up in the Castaway motel in Colorado Springs, it had a Jacuzzi tub that upon filling and turning on the jacuzzi part of the tub a hairball the size of a New York wharf rat shot out and spun around, they may have had satellite television, but it was hard to find it as interesting as watching hair and soap become a sentient being. We stopped by Don's salvage yard in the morning to check out his wrecked Delorean and to get a parts for Ian's old car, we then drove to Denver and loaded into the the club, soundchecked and went for sushi, the show was fun, Friends Ann and Ryan came out even though Ryan had to work at some ungodly hour the next morning, thank you for coming guys. We then hung with the likes of leather pant wearing Deb (who informed me that the pants are not actually leather but merely look like they are) and Becky and Amy, who are always like a breath of fresh air. Upon the arrival of the rising sun, we left for Durango, a really trying drive, I got up on the wrong side of the couch I was sleeping on and stayed that way the whole day, the club smelled faintly of sewer gases that didn't necessarily blend well with the smoke from the oven they used to cook food, the show was well attended and amusing. We stayed at a super 8 that claimed to have high speed internet access, but what they really meant was the had a pentium .5 computer hooked into a wire hanging out of a tin can. The next morning, with the sun shining like a red rubber ball, we left for Saint George, I like Saint George, every time we play there it feels like we are among family, Laura and Danielle opened the show, and they were great, (I feel I need Tony the Tiger to do a voice over, Grrreeeaaaatttt!) , then we went on, almost had a sing along, and then there was a dance off, right in the middle of the show, Sean seemed like a extra in the movie Breakin 2 Electric Boogaloo, and Joey Dye was like Michael Jackson, Mind Boggling. The day we putzed around Sean and Sara's place and ate chinese food, then left for San Fran, Sean and Sara came too, woohoo. That night was spent at Sara's parents house in Bakersfield, when ever I heard the name Bakersfield I thought of Arnold Schwarzeneggar's character in the Running Man being the Butcher of Bakersfield, but it is the home of Sara's folks and Buck Owens, and some 100,000. more people.
And the next day.......
C.D.