Woah, I'm in a world of pain today. Played the incredibly awesome Stripped Down show at Caboobs last night and it was a hella good time, I must say. My left index finger has been bothering me something fierce the past month (from overplaying, I reckon) and of course the day of the show it suddenly felt a little numb. So for the duration of my set, I was freaking out on the inside wondering if I would make it without any "where's the tip of my index finger?" shaky hand train wrecks, only suffering 1 near one during String Poem and a few during Dog Seed. Otherwise it was all cool though, sans my geetar not wanting to stay in tune for my last number. Bitch.
How do people that go to shows night after night pull it off? After playing a short set and traipsing around like an eediot for 4 hours last night, I woke up this morning feeling like I was thrown in a garbage can and rolled down a lengthy and steep rocky hill. Maybe it's all of the standing. Or maybe it's all of that delicious tasty beer. That said, I'm sure the beer plays a pivotal role in there somewhere... but damn. By night's end, this white boy was spent.
This always makes me understand why musicians that are constantly on tour tend to develop drug problems. I'd want to throw as many illegal toxins into my system and make myself into a human stereogram as well if I were touring 6 months out of the year night after night. I personally wouldn't abuse myself like that, but I can see how it can easily happen. Me, I'd prolly just become really good at Etch A Sketch or rug hook instead.
Think about it though. Here's what 99.999 percent of musicians do on the road (this is how the average every-so-often local show goes as well):
1) Arrive at the venue 2-3 hours before The Show.
2) Wait.
3) Soundcheck.
4) Wait some more.
5) Continue to wait and wonder if you have time to leave and grab some chow.
6) Venue doors open, and guess what you do then? Wait.
7) Mingle with peeps as they arrive while you wait.
8) Continue waiting until your moment arrives and you hit the stage.
9) Get your ya-yas off playing for an audience.
10) Hurry off the stage so the next band can set up, then stand around for the duration of the evening enjoying the rest of the entertainment and screaming over it when talking with friends, fambly, and acquaintances (this is a glorified subconscious version of waiting)
11) Show ends.
12) Pack your shit up. Think you're done waiting yet? Nope. Bar has to count earnings for the night before you get paid. SO. The wait continues.
13) Collect your loot and pass go. Load stuff out to vehicle, and get the fuck adda Dodge.
14) Night's end arrives. Pass out, wake up, and do it all over again.
I don't mean to sound like a baby here. It's just how it is. I was put here to play geetar so accept that it just comes with the turf, and in the end it's all worth the price to be able to perform and hang with good people. Like life in general, standing around waiting is only as good as you make it. For example, when introducing NickM to a few of my fambly members, I kept it interesting and told him "that's my sister.. and she's also my ex-wife." Regardless, If you're with the right people, thankfully it's a blast - such as last night.
Alas, Stripped Down VI was a great time and we had a superb turnout. Mr. Folkerts, I thank you once again for the invite. I can only hope I'll be up there sharing stage with y'all when we're using walkers and Stripped Down LXII happens (FYI at that point I will call you Walkerts). And thanks a billion to everyone who didn't play for coming out - we had a jolly good time, yes we did.
Oh. And to those couple of few strange numbers appearing on my smell phone in the late evening/midnight hours such as last night... who are you? If you are one of those dialers and are reading this - yeah, it's my phone. Sorry the message on there is weird, but trust me. That's my number. Feel free to leave a message any time... homey don't answer if it's an unknown number. I'm not trying to sound like Mr. Popular 'everyone-calls-me/I leave my number on bathroom walls' here, 'cause I'm definitely not that type. I guess I'm just saying.. if you're a bill collector, piss off, please.
