How curious is it that a simple two word name coupled with music can have such an emotional impact? State Fair. It is one of those events that brings out the best and worst in people. It can be something to which we look forward, especially as children. It can be a magical place where a simple two dollar toy can release you into a magical fantasy world where Pirates and liars and thieves rule and you are the chosen one who will bring order to the chaos. Little Jimmy Redding is swinging his plastic sword overcoming an imaginary foe, another little child named Daisy is happily holding her father’s hand. It is just the two of them. Who knows where Mom is, perhaps in a burned out building in the South end of Springfield, or if she is lucky in rehab or jail. But this is Daisy’s time with Daddy and has been for quite some time. He smells the warm, velvet aroma of funnel cake, beaming down at his princess as she looks up at his larger than life frame. She smiles at him skipping along to keep up with his long strides grateful for every moment she spends with him.
She sees another couple who are arguing. Kerwin is missing a few teeth and looking pretty shabby. She is named Mona and is holding her own child who is trying to cry as quietly as possible, hiding behind her and clinging to her mother’s leg. She cries quietly because she knows mommy’s new boyfriend doesn’t like it when she does that, especially when he is drunk. But it doesn’t matter, this was the last straw, Kerwin is history. By the time he gets to feel his hangover tomorrow morning Mona will be gone. The happy little girl looks away from this scene back to her daddy. He reads her body language and reassures her that she never has to worry about that kind of crap again, by pulling her in close and giving her a little squeeze…a gesture that clearly tells her that it is okay to feel sorry for the other little girl, but also indicates that she will grow up with that kind of chaos as a faded and distant memory, so distant that it might have even been a bad dream.
Those kinds of instances and memories can make a State Fair such a somber and sorrowful place in the midst of calliopes, parades, and colorful entertainers with petrified smiles. In the agricultural building , Walter Bukowski, a 55 year old man, is pushing a wheelchair. His Father, Waclaw, has his hand on the arm rest of the chair as his once strong and confident fingers shake and twitch from errant misfired electrical impulses sent from his brain. He is feeble and tired, but happy to once again be in the farm building. The smell of the manure and hay… the sight of Holsteins, sheep, and a sow who patiently lays in wait as her piglets suckle, rejuvenates him as he brought back to a time when he was a younger man and the standard which set the bar in this Agricultural display. He disregards his body as his mind takes him to the happiest places in his life. Not back to the steppes of the Carpathian Mountains in Austria but here in this grizzled and historical building thankful that he is here one more day to experience this with his loved ones. His son fights back a tear as he remembers the once immortal figure he is now guiding through his waning years. His own precious memory has him walking next to the tall man in the cowboy hat and boots and leading his blue ribbon winning heifer back to his stall after displaying it in the building across the way, the Coliseum where they had seen so many hockey games. They would sit in the box seats leaning over the edge as Dad confidently led his livestock through the competition. They would sitting in the same seats where “Coliseum Charlie” would sway behind his tower of empty beer cups drunkenly swinging his tee shirt above his head cheering for the Indians as Eddie Shore looked on in disgust and yelled for him to put his shirt back on, but he let Charlie come back every week. At least his feet weren’t on the seats. Walter looked around was it this stall where they used to camp out with the cows? Perhaps it was even that stall right over there, Yes he is sure that was the one. But does it matter which stall it was? He knows in his gut that this is the last time he and his dad will be at the State Fair together. He wonders why he has to live with this painful memory, because he feels like missed the boat. He has no child with whom to share this wonderful experience. He could still have children perhaps, but they would never know him to be as strong as their grandfather was. He looks at his sister who seems to be preoccupied with her own distant but similar memory. She is thankful that her daughter is holding her Grandfather’s hand, the one that doesn’t twitch. She is thankful that she didn’t leave the farm to go for the big paycheck like her younger brother did, taking a job as an engineer with one of the technology companies on Rt. 128 near Burlington. She was the good daughter who kept the family farm going and turned it into her own thriving business. She was thankful that her brother was here for a change, so she didn’t have to push the chair all day. She couldn’t bring herself to say “Dad” She pushed “the chair.”
Crowds of people clamor out of the State buildings with their bags of fried clam cakes and spun maple sugar treats just in time to watch the parade pass by. Behind the Budweiser Clydesdales and their barking Dalmatian , and green purple and gold bedecked Mardi Gras krewes riding on their floats with their satchels of “throws”, a local American Legion troop proudly marches. All of the members of the color guard fought in the Big War. The younger veterans, the ones who were spit upon when they came back from their war, marched behind them grateful that they have been finally been accepted and recognized for their contribution to democracy. But the Big war, WWII, was the one that claimed so many victims after the white flags came out, long before anyone knew what post traumatic stress disorder was and what it did to a lot of these proud men who fought for our Freedom. They look sad but determined, honoring the 2000 of their comrades who are falling every day. With veterans passing at that rate, eventually as with every war, the last remaining veteran will be buried hopefully leaving behind a free world even though it was unrecognizable to them when they passed . A world that looked so different than it did in the days when they knew who their enemy was on the beaches of Normandy or in the air above Midway island, or a in a ruptured and sinking PT boat in the South Pacific.
Across the fair on the midway, the first little girl we encountered, Daisy, grips her Father’s hand tighter as a very shady looking carnie allows his diseased brain to focus on her and stare just a little too long. A stare we just don’t want to think about, but are forced to endure more often than not as we read horrifying accounts in the daily newspapers. Again Dad’s intuition kicks in as he utilizes every vestige of his scary biker image to stare down this vile predator. Yes he is a loving and sensitive father, but those boots have seen their share of ass kicking. Very few people, other that Phish bassist Mike Gordon, can identify with or better yet, live to tell what can happen when an outlaw biker thinks you are getting inappropriate with their underage child. The carnie however, was no rock star and his balls shriveled as Dad did not relinquish eye contact and moved in his direction, forcing the carnie to run back into the safety of his filthy trailer. Sitting on a bench nearby, two of the local ladies from the Lion’s Club dining hall comment to each other on what they just witnessed. They had been keeping an eye on this fellow agreed that the carnie was going to get his ass kicked if he didn’t cut out his shameful staring.
Behind the Lion’s Club volunteers, who were enjoying a large and sinful looking cream puff was Kerry the corn dog vendor. His run of bad luck was over. The weather had agreed with him this week and he ended up with a good location across from the midway. He doubled what he thought he would take in for his efforts. Oh was he tired. But he was happy. He didn’t have to punch a clock. All he had to do was deal with the customers and hope to get out of the parking lot alive with his receipts. He made enough money to take care of the past due mortgage payment, He had been scared…Wednesday was the day. Now he was going go to the bank two days early with a payment which would bring him current. He smiled at his two children who were in the food cart with him frying the dogs and mixing more corn batter. In their eyes their dad had the coolest job in the world. He smiled once again and hugged them both. He was listening to a song appropriately titled State Fair by The Drunk Stuntmen. Inhaling deeply he took it all in. He loved every bit of it. The memories, the stories people would tell him. The different accents and dialects he encountered, and that was just from one county in Eastern Mass. He loved all that the fair represented. The fears of the young child going down the giant slide or stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel for the first time. The hopes of others that their hard work would pay off in various competitions and a blue ribbon emblazoned with the words “Best in Fair” would rest on the mantel next to the ones Grandma won years ago. He loved this song for what it represented to him. It took him to places he had not been in years and projected him further down the time line than he could ever have imagined. He felt he knew the band. He saw them one night at an outdoor theater in Northampton. It was oppressively hot and muggy , and raining. The spot light trained on the stage cut through night looking like a pie shaped ray of a movie screen on which was projected a black and white surrealistic piece of grainy celluloid which looked very unlike the falling raindrops and bugs they actually were. In his mind this was the beginning of the movie he was experiencing now as he saw the fair roll along. He felt like he was watching the song, witnessing the fair on that magical wedge of silver.
It was so muggy that night, the black flies were landing on his bald head and drowning in the sweat and moisture. He had to keep wiping them off with a soggy napkin in his pocket. A situation like this would normally be intolerable to him. He did shudder when Bow Bow, the bass player said he inhaled a bug through his nostril. As uncomfortable a situation it could have been, he was mesmerized and transfixed on the happenings on stage. This was Northampton, he was at a free show and what he was hearing was more like what you would expect from Pink Floyd which you had just paid $75 to see. And they were even short a key player, who had a commitment out of town.
The band was just like him. They worked their asses off, because that is what they did. Maybe they would get the big payday one day, but until that happened he was sure they would keep doing what they were doing . They were the best he had ever heard. They were a band which was tucked into the corner of a local bar but had fans World wide. A band with a cool name he just happened to hear on a college radio station one night during his commute home. He saw them and noticed they had a heart and soul which could fill a theater. They just needed the right break just like the one he had gotten. Maybe their break was forthcoming as Mitch Easter, the guy who did REM’s first two albums was slated to produce their next release.
Two years ago Kerry’s kids didn’t know him. He was always working in that restaurant and that was killing him. What is the point of being the best chef in the Valley if you are going to be a distant memory to your children. You might as well work yourself to death if you are not going to be available when you are alive. Now he and his kids sell corn dogs laugh and joke about the customers who were challenged to various degrees either from alcohol and overstimulation or the ones who were best described as morbidly obtuse. Now they could spend precious minutes, hours and days with each other. Learning and teaching each other life’s simplest lessons and figuring out the difficult lessons together. Oh life is so much simpler and rewarding. Good life and good times with family, good music and a couple of games of horseshoes every now and then. A life second to none at the State Fair.
Paul Brown
Total of 5 hours from hamp to the Coma. Damn Nickleback (and Staind, *and* Daughtry ((I never once voted for you)) gunkin up the works. Note to self; next time try lawn chairs and helium baloons.
Rob Skelton and Pitchfork played first. Great groves with his tight new three-piece. Despite some early technical problems the set was superb. I know a lot of these songs and have played in various incarnations of Skelly's band. This one definitely had it *goin on* with solid drumming from Jim "M.C.T.V." Humphreys and tight bass from Bassy. Some cameo MCing from Mike and the crowd was good to go. "Check it ouuuuut!"
We played a spirited yet restrained set of rock with a side of Hank 3.
Chris Blood, soundman extrordinaire gave a copy of the show to us which will soon be up on http://www.archive.org
The talent on the dance floor could have opened it's own agency. Nice job.
We didn't start a tab cause last time it was an issue. Lo and behold they tell us at lights on that they were going to comp the whole thing. Nothing like making up for lost time. Thanks Dean and the rest of the staff. You guys rock.
Off to John's for some Slim Galliard and more in front of the fireplace. Perfect.
Sleep at 5. Up at an ungodly 9am by a rarin to go SS. Got to get to Bourne for Judy's BLT's.
An aside: Sometimes if you ask for pickles, even though they don't normally come with your sandwich, and the manager of the store is your best friend's Mom, she may just open up a jar of Bread and Butter gerkhins and your day is complete. And it's not even noon. You should be so lucky. Thanks Judy.
1p-4:Relaxed for a few hours along the canal. Very relaxing I'll say.
I can't get into it right now but a development has occured in this 1-4pm timespan that will double-handedly change the way we use tobacco-smoking paraphenaila and how we also view some essential tools of the modern camper. I kid you not. More to come. Stay tuned.
4p. Set up the gear with a pig roast happening at the same time. I hope our stuff smells this way forever.
5p. Cookout at the Sanderson's with the band, Matt Caldeira, Matt's girlfriend Amanda (who was enchanting), Matt's cousin Matt, Daisy, and a couple of folks I didn't know. Still don't seeing I can't remember their names. Sorry guys. Along with the assortment of grilled meats, little necks, cracker's and cheeses and Hobo Beans (which has changed the way I think about hobo's possibly forever). There was something else on the menu. Something I come to anticipate as much, if not more than my Birthday or possibly even Christmas.
Ahem!
JUDY SANDERSON'S WORLD FAMOUS TACO SALAD!!!!!. I say world famous simply because we cannot *prove* that it was enjoyed by the astronauts on the last space shuttle mission. We also can't prove that it didn't happen. So I say the bowl is half full...oh wait a minute...it's almost gone. Damn. If I gave away the secret recipie Judy would kill me and I know you don't want that to happen right? *Do* you? I didn't think so. Anyway...
Sumertime funtime songs abounded. I can't remember them all but you might if you were there.
"Bonesy" is our new friend and tip jar given ceremoniously to us by the park security (who was might cute) You'll get to meet "Bonesy" at the next show. Hurry though. He is made of Chineese plaster (there's no joke in there I swear) and may not last too long (and, I must mention that there was no joke in that last phrase as well. That, fine folk, I can assure you. I wicked swear.)
Set break was made more fun by...wait...these two words have not escaped my lips before this night...PUDDING CAKE!!!!! With Freaking Ice Cream. Thanks Judy (and Daisy)
Bamm and Kathy (and Calvin) were there making the 2nd show in as many days. You guys are great. Great Ryan again. Great to see the Sanderson's, the Brandon's, my Aunt Lynda, The Freitas', The Donnellys, The Demerols, The Ripleys, and all of you great people who make this 9th annual event so special.
And so, another Bourne post-gig singalong down by the water is broken up by the cops. We had more fun than them I can assure you.
Dave drove me and Bow home. Thanks Dave.
Lunch on the way: Double Cheeseburger, small fry.
Desert: Boston Cream Donut.
Drinks: Jack and Cokes
You should be so lucky
Yours,
Freddy Freedom
Stuntman Steve would like to add:
Bourne Scenic Park just keeps getting more fun. It all started 9 years ago as
an anniversary party for Stuntman Steve's Parents celebrating 30 years of marriage. Since then it has grown into the years best original family stunt concert.
This year it was held on Saturday July 14th.
The day was perfect 80 degrees with a breeze.
Longtime friends of Drunk Stuntmen stood shoulder to shoulder and beach chair to beach
chair. The younglings were playing together and insisting that their
parents accompany them to the dance floor for a spin around the
pavilion. The campground sold out Saturday morning and the management
knew it had in part to do with the band. BSP had been told multiple
times by campers that they had chosen the times for their vacations
based on the Stuntmen's performance. Next year plans are in place for a
group stunt tent site. If your interested you will want to get in touch
in March.
The Stuntmen are proud to host this event, and flattered with
the support of their longtime friends. It's great to get to know the
second generation of Stuntfans.
Thanks again,
SS
Total of 5 hours from hamp to the Coma. Fucking Nickleback (and Staind, *and* Daughtry ((I never once voted for you)) gunkin up the works. Note to self; next time try lawn chairs and helium baloons.
Rob Skelton and Pitchfork played first. Great groves with his tight new three-piece. Despite some early technical problems the set was superb. I know a lot of these songs and have played in various incarnations of Skelly's band. This one definitely had it *goin on* with solid drumming from Jim "M.C.T.V." Humphreys and tight bass from Bassy. Some cameo MCing from Mike and the crowd was good to go. "Check it ouuuuut!"
We played a spirited yet restrained set of rock with a side of Hank 3.
Chris Blood, soundman extrordinaire gave a copy of the show to us which will soon be up on http://www.archive.org
The talent on the dance floor could have opened it's own agency. Nice job.
Charms, you were missed.
We didn't start a tab cause last time it was an issue. Lo and behold they tell us at lights on that they were going to comp the whole thing. Nothing like making up for lost time. Thanks Dean and the rest of the staff. You guys rock.
Off to John's for some Slim Galliard and more in front of the fireplace. Perfect.
Sleep at 5. Up at an ungodly 9am by a rarin to go SS. Got to get to Bourne for Judy's BLT's.
An aside: Sometimes if you ask for pickles, even though they don't normally come with your sandwich, and the manager of the store is your best friend's Mom, she may just open up a jar of Bread and Butter gerkhins and your day is complete. And it's not even noon. You should be so lucky. Thanks Judy.
1p-4:Relaxed for a few hours along the canal. Very relaxing I'll say.
I can't get into it right now but a development has occured in this 1-4pm timespan that will double-handedly change the way we use tobacco-smoking paraphenaila and how we also view some essential tools of the modern camper. I kid you not. More to come. Stay tuned.
4p. Set up the gear with a pig roast happening at the same time. I hope our stuff smells this way forever.
5p. Cookout at the Sanderson's with the band, Matt Caldeira, Matt's girlfriend Amanda (who was enchanting), Matt's cousin Matt, Daisy, and a couple of folks I didn't know. Still don't seeing I can't remember their names. Sorry guys. Along with the assortment of grilled meats, little necks, cracker's and cheeses and Hobo Beans (which has changed the way I think about hobo's possibly forever). There was something else on the menu. Something I come to anticipate as much, if not more than my Birthday or possibly even Christmas.
Ahem!
JUDY SANDERSON'S WORLD FAMOUS TACO SALAD!!!!!. I say world famous simply because we cannot *prove* that it was enjoyed by the astronauts on the last space shuttle mission. We also can't prove that it didn't happen. So I say the bowl is half full...oh wait a minute...it's almost gone. Damn. If I gave away the secret recipie Judy would kill me and I know you don't want that to happen right? *Do* you? I didn't think so. Anyway...
Sumertime funtime songs abounded. I can't remember them all but you might if you were there.
"Bonesy" is our new friend and tip jar given ceremoniously to us by the park security (who was might cute) You'll get to meet "Bonesy" at the next show. Hurry though. He is made of Chineese plaster (there's no joke in there I swear) and may not last too long (and, I must mention that there was no joke in that last phrase as well. That, fine folk, I can assure you. I wicked swear.)
Set break was made more fun by...wait...these two words have not escaped my lips before this night...PUDDING CAKE!!!!! With Freaking Ice Cream. Thanks Judy (and Daisy)
Bamm and Kathy (and Calvin) were there making the 2nd show in as many days. You guys are great. Great Ryan again. Great to see the Sanderson's, the Brandon's, my Aunt Lynda, The Freitas', The Donnellys, The Demerols, The Ripleys, and all of you great people who make this 9th annual event so special.
And so, another Bourne post-gig singalong down by the water is broken up by the cops. We had more fun than them I can assure you.
Dave drove me and Bow home. Thanks Dave.
Lunch on the way: Double Cheeseburger, small fry.
Desert: Boston Cream Donut.
Drinks: Jack and Cokes
You should be so lucky
Yours,
Freddy Freedom
Stuntman Steve would like to add:
Bourne Scenic Park just keeps getting more fun. It all started 9 years ago as
an anniversary party for Stuntman Steve's Parents celebrating 30 years of marriage. Since then it has grown into the years best original family stunt concert.
This year it was held on Saturday July 14th.
The day was perfect 80 degrees with a breeze.
Longtime friends of Drunk Stuntmen stood shoulder to shoulder and beach chair to beach chair. The younglings were playing together and insisting that their parents accompany them to the dance floor for a spin around the pavilion. The campground sold out Saturday morning and the management knew it had in part to do with the band. BSP had been told multiple times by campers that they had chosen the times for their vacations based on the Stuntmen's performance. Next year plans are in place for a group stunt tent site. If your interested you will want to get in touch in March. The Stuntmen are proud to host this event, and flattered with the support of their longtime friends. It's great to get to know the second generation of Stuntfans.
Thanks again,
SS
A short ride to Derita a town just north of Charlotte NC. Heavy traffic on Sugar Creek Road. James had turned the heat off on the Crockpot because he was unsure about our arrival time. The pot roast was reheated and quickly eaten. Thanks James, thanks a lot. We have not been able to put many bodies in this room. We seem to get a few devoted fans everytime but never all of them at the same time. The Pucketts sure do love us and we will continue to go back as long as we are invited. Better luck next time at the races. It's time for everyones favorite time "Welcome new fan time!" We would like to welcome Chris and Carla(Carla I'm working on the tattoo) and the " You look like a rabbits" Nice juke box and thanks for a place to lie down. I did not know amps came with laminated instructions. They must have stolen mine at the store. Stinkin Downtown Clowns.Kirsten thanks for the beers and the dancing it was appreciated.Puckett's is a unique venue and should be experienced. It's been in the Puckett family for many years. As the story goes it started as a feed and farm equipmnet store some 110 years ago. Local farmers would stop in after a days work because old man Puckett would have a cooler full of cold ones. Eventually people got drunk and stopped working in the fields. This quickly led to them getting up and going fishing instead. After fishing they would stop home get their guitars and banjos and go to Puckett's for the coldest beer in NC. Soon the major feed companies moved into Charlotte and made earning an honest living too difficult for Puckett. So he did what any of us would do, he started charging his friends for the beer and that pretty much brings you all up to speed. Freddy would like to add: A big 3D thank you to Puckett's for the Swimsuit issue. Finest mag for a van full of dudes on the road. Ab-so-LUTE-ly! Tom's house was fun for me not only because it was a house and we were welcome, but I got to sleep in a Hello Kitty bunk bed. A finer sleep was n'er been had. Kids artwork is always great but Tom's kid Melissa colored in a Leprechaun at school with the caption "If I caught a leprechaun I would play with him. I would take the gold." Well put. Xanax works. We had so much fun driving away a few miles from the house that we did it again, twice. Scott forgets stuff places sometimes. You probably do too. It's ok. We've all been conditioned for the funny looks we sometimes get but that's what you get from funny looking people. It's way more fun to give them. We gave a few at the Barbecue Center in Lexington. Hailed by some as the finest BBQ in NC. It was damn good. Dave got the cheeseburger as it was on special. They poured hot bbq sauce from a coffe pot into a serving decanter to dip and daub as you wish. It's the little things sometimes that remind you how big the world is. " When they sleepin'...I be up" (Sportcenter random soundbyte) . I would like to extend my hopes that everyone who stayed home in Asheville enjoyed their poo sandwich. Found but not bought at the animal shelter thrift store: A Clay Aiken t-shirt with the quote "He is the potter...I am the clay" Jeremiah something or other. A fond farewell to Don Ho. He truly was the original nappy-headed ho. You should be so lucky.
After recording all week with morgan in the Cooler we descended into Asheville like true hill folk to see if we could still play our new songs. Nope, sure couldn't. Oh well next gig. The Westville Pub is a pretty cool room with friendly folks. We were fed a good meal and they provided a PA. There were some folks in attendance besides our friends and there friends. I wish Little Friday had stuck around longer. I ended up putting the SG back on. We had to be a little quieter than we like to be these days but it's good practice. It's just hard to make the ear splitting distortion you need to have fun. We played two sets got tipped and payed a little. A big thanks to Nick's folks! You guys were way too generous. Next time the beers are on us. I think we'll be back. Freddy's snippets: Today 4/13 is Slogan Day. Today's slogan "Don't ask." I, Freddy Freedom today admitted to the room that I was getting snippy. This is unacceptable. How can people live with dirty bathrooms. It's uncivilized. Are we poo throwing monkeys? Sure we are, but jeez...Last night's best quote-"I keep thinking I'm stepping on a cat but it's just my shadow"-DD Ingle's at 3 am is just as much fun as at 3 pm. Dave and I did finally find our Cadbury "creme filled!!!! Eggs" Little boxes, four for a dollar. Yes we shared but Dave got a belly-ache from eating too many. See what the Easter season brings out in us. We're much more relaxed than we were in Jersey. New slogan-"Pay for the water, smoke from it later." Smoke on the water indeed. "Choo-Choo Yay!!!-SS "Cough-cough"-DD I am, as some of you know a recovering cookie-hater. This week has brought about new clarity that may bring me half-circle. More on this later. We have to go to the barbecue forest to find maddening new adventures. You should be so lucky.
OK. I(SS) finally can empathize with all the people I thought were just navigationaly challenged when they couldn't find their way around the one-way wagon roads of Boston. Norfolk, you deserve an asshole award for streets that don't end, begin, or exist. I would also like to add that either no one knows where they're going or are lying about actually living there due to the fact that no one could give us proper directions to the club. Thanks. Thanks a lot
We had a really good time. No, for real. The owner and the employees were all friendly and welcoming. Nick Fernandes in the kitchen was even from Fall River. I mentioned that I (FF) played with the illustrious Marc Dennis. Nick immediately sang the chorus from Marc's hit "Superman". Marc Dennis never had a song or a member of their band called President Spiderman though. Why would he? Back to the Taphouse, great food and drinks. TJ is the mountainous man with the sly smile who's running sound. He tells us (and to my ears 4 other people at different times) that he had smoked a joint before work and he was feelin' good. He tells us also that he doesn't want to get too drunk to work so he planned on just drinking PBR all night. TJ got drunk fast. TJ the DJ in his other life played great rock-a-billy and Outlaw style country over the PA system while we prepared to show the Taphouse how we roll. When we hit the stage just about 11pm the room had 12 to 20 curious bystanders. We kicked it off like in NYC with some fast country numbers and flowed into some heavier material. We played well together and had won over the crowd in two songs. Whiskies found their way to the stage far to frequently and the owner said, "you guys can come back anytime". OK now that we know where it is we will. Wouldn't you just know it, we got directions to the nearest cheap hotel. Um, yeah you guessed it. more bad directions. We woke up in a Motel Six in Idontknowhere Virginia found the nearest IHOP and began the pouring of syrup. Mr. Durst felt compelled to harrass the poor sucker dressed in the ragged Uncle Sam outfit peddling an income tax preperation facility. Sam just waved and smiled. At some point in the night we arrived in Marshall for the first time in two years. Thanks Johnny Crash pad.
NYC: going back to saturday. No traffic, no blowouts, no blow. Tolls though, plenty of tolls. Welcome back Foulke Hero Frank. This just in: Newly appointed official Stuntmen-sanctioned named fan...ladies and gents...welcome to the spotlight...Rodeo Mike! Illana you should be so lucky. Slacker.
Countryish start with Stuntgrass, Rock Paper, Mystery. Sounding good, but all good things must take a break. Hello Keating (with consort ), Lenny Johnson, Doug at the bar, and the other well wishers who congregate wherever we may pause. Just try to escape the chaos. You should be so lucky. Carl claimed the show was not long enough. He was beaten severely. Kristen and Joe finally witnessed the madness. We think they liked it. Thanks for the crash. Every time Al says anything, milk flies out of Steve's nose, even if he's not drinking milk. Freaky. 3:30 am: Still in the city but our driver won't stop for Pastrami at the Carnegie. Even though our driver has been talking about these freaking sandwiches for most of his life. I firmly believe we did something bad in an upcoming life. Steve is taunting our driver by waving a dollar bill around as we sit at the toll booth. "...maybe I'll just throw this out the window..." Steve says in a late-night kind of voice. Later, Steve will claim to have no knowledge of this whatsoever. You should be so lucky.
Morning comes quick when that's when you go to sleep. All ready to go to Roanoke, er, Norfolk. As the bedtime story goes, the three broads looked in the cave and it was empty. Baby Jesus was gone but the cave was full of smoke, good smoke, easter smoke. Now, as we sit unmoving in the driveway it becomes clear to me what has happened. The van is full of smoke...good smoke...EASTER SMOKE! It's our easter miracle on East 56th street. Thanks carl. CAAAAAARRRRLLLLLLL!
Noon comes and goes and so do we. Steve takes the first shift behind the wheel. Goodbye sleeping bag. More on this later. As we drive, a gray sedan approaches on the left. Here's what happens next. The car is full of dudes. 4 dudes. Jersey dudes. They are all laughing. Why are they laughing? I'm not sure if they were laughing at us or themselves. You see, the two guys in the back seat had their pizzles out and were making the universal "wanky-wanky" motion. Wow! Steve hucks an impressive sounding loogie at said car full of douchebags, er, Jersey boys. Then Steve does the most natural thing in the world a person would do at time like this. He asks for a "Faggot" sign from the back and tries to run the car off the road. Not one but 2 signs are produced from the back. A simple "Fag" and a more caustic "Faggot". Steve throws the "Faggot" sign back as he is not only crazed and dangerous, but his internal spellcheck doesn't recognize the double "g" in "faggot" A confirmation from a party of the first part and the double "g" stays. But alas, The sign proves to be not only a hilarious break in the muscle-van action but also unnecessary as the gray sedan speeds by us at a very faux-hetero speed of 95 or so. I can only guess they were late for the 45th annual Point Pleasant Easter Bukkake. Steve, realizing what has just occurred recommends that he go to sleep for a while and he does. Scotty takes the wheel and we're still on our way to Norfolk. You should be so lucky.
Frantic. Bob and Polly and the girls show up 15 minutes early. I'm pulling my belt closed with one hand and brushing my hair with the other. "I hope you don't mind that I'm a little early". Well you're taking me to Europe so I don't have much of a choice.
>
>9:42 Everybody's here but SS. Cilman asks if he should call him. I tell him he can call all morning but he won't answer. After all we weren't supposed to leave until 9:45. When SS shows up I ask Bob what time it is. He shrugs and tells me he's not wearing a watch. I make him look at his cell phone and he sheepishly tells me it's 9:44.
>
>The usual problems arise at the airport. People getting lost and Bob sweating through 3 shirts. Arrive in Zurich or "tssurriccch" as they have a tendency to say. We meet our new friend Marcello. He's a big hulking russian looking guy who likes to laugh. He's the driver for the chorus as well, aparrently for me and SS. We ask him where the fun is and he happily brings us to Club Helsinki. On our trip there we go through the red light district where Marcello says to stay away from unless we like "Junky Whores". Which we don't.
>
>Inside things are cozy. It's a concrete box with a long bar and stage. A guy named Add and the Trio from Hell is about to play or so it says in duct tape on the wall. Had a few beers. Great surfabilly. Heinz is the guitar player and is very friendly. He plays a black tele with a "b bender" (look it up people) and they are great. 30 minute sets is a new thing for us. But when your songs are under 3 minutes it's ok. Rienke, (pronounced Rink) is the bass player and he makes unbelievable old school country comps which he plays between sets. Very surreal. Some girl gets up in the middle of the second set and sings a tune. This gives us an idea for later in the week. The band gives us a shout out which is nice. Marcello gets drunk and we have to leave the van at the club while taking a 25 franc cab ride to the hotel.
POW!!!
Wow. Don't beleive what they tell you about those retreaded tires. They sound just like new tires do when they blow. People ask me if I don't like the takeoff and landing of planes. But, for the most part those things are cake compared to blowing a tire on our van full of equipment and socks, sleeping bags and mouthwash. It's pretty scary folks. And you can almost expect it. It's never happened to me thank goodness but it's bound to someday.
So we ride on this tire (mind you it's still got air in it, just no tread.) through the toll and get a tip from the tollbooth worker on a BJ's up a few miles.
(tollbooth worker):"But you gotta be a member"
(Steve):"Oh I AM a member."
This of course is a complete lie which Steve has so firmly commited to that nothing can possibly go wrong.
11:30 am Steve M. Sanderson (registered Costco member) is issued a temporary BJ's membership card while on vacation.
3:39 pm "Fuchs Lubricant"-Seen on side of truck.
4pm on the road with $220 worth of new tires. YeeYah!
8pm Food stop. Me, SH, DD Wendy's
SS-Friendly's
BB-an unfortunate experience with the new KFC "Snacker". Bow got buffalo sauce all over him.
12:30 am: Just pass South Of The Border. Stop at motel with cable.
Soft core porn on the tv (bonus) involving a Herculese type warrior and a woman genie. Steve claims to have seen it before. I believe him.
Slept 2-7am: Breakfast waffles are great. Their even better when you get to make them in one of those "pour-it-in-and-flip-it-over" dealies.
We are all aware that we are only supposed to be a group of 4 (when will this end) but 5 Stuntmen are neatly making waffles in the breakfast/reception room.
Steve is heard to be singing the Mike Flood song "It's all in the open now" Having not heard the song I don't understand.
Sometime in the am: As we roll through some area which has a ghastly smell Steve yells from the front for me to close my legs.
Bow claims that SS now owes me a quarter.
Seen on a t-shirt somewhere just past Daytona: "Better to be a notorious drunk than and anonymous alcoholic".
Steve has a great new mottoe for New England: "Come on up. Slip on the ice, and break your fuckin' neck."
8pm. SH, BB, and DD come pick me up. Head to SS who had to put the merch together. 8:20pm on the road.
9pm. stuck in standstill traffic in Enfield, CT. 10:15p decide to go home, get some sleep, and try again at 6am.
10/18 6am. Depart from Stearns Ct. Roll up a fattie of kind.
8:00 am. (near Meriden, CT goddamn you CT)
Back right tire blows out. Steve carefully pulls us over on a busy 2 lane interstate with hardly any shoulder.
8:05 Call for the impeccable roadside assistance of the Automobile Association of America (AAA). We're a regular.
For those of you not there this won't be as funny but aparrently when our tire blew, a big chunk of it flew off and smacked a red '99 Corolla and the dude pulled over fast. We weren't paying much attention to the guy until he pulled back on the highway and sped away from us. Lucky bastard.
9:00 am. The "AAA battery service" van arrives to rescue us. A mid 20's obese man approaches. He is ill equipped without the proper tire iron. He asks to use ours which we didn't have or we probably woudn't have called him in the first place. It is raining heavily at this point and we're all standing around the van a mere 2 hours away from home. What the fuck. I mean really. 15 years of this shit what with the hammer of the Gods coming down on us and all can we please get a fucking break.
"THIS IS CRAZY!" exclaims our fat friend as he uses his foot with all his weight upon it to loosen our lug nuts with a 5 inch socket wrench. (I'm not making this up you guys.) He then tries to use the jack he has which is way too small and basically has to be operateed while the person is completely under the van. Steve tries it for a while and has a little better luck. It's times like these that I'm glad they don't ask me to do certain things. For now I'll just try to remember what happened best I can and then type. So then the "AAA" guy asks us...no wait...yes...he asks "where's all the stuff you use when this shit happens?" Ha! That would be back home stupid. So anyway then this dude turns to the oncoming traffic and yells at the top of his lungs in the rain..."FUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!"
When things like these happen you try to maintain some sembalance of composure as if of course this kind of thing happens all the time. So between Lugnut and Steve the tire got changed and we were ready to continue on another dare against the world. That's what it seems like sometimes. As if whoever's in charge says, "These guys, I don't want to get them completely discouraged but throw some shit in their way. You know, just some innane bullshit to make them wonder, is someone watching us?" When of course, they are.
Al Johnson
You, yes you, can say with some certainty "I helped book a gig for my favorite roots rock band, Drunk Stuntmen" Because, as you'll soon know, they give the band who wins their category the opportunity to play at some bar on Worthington St. in Springfield, On September 21st, some time at night. We'll keep you posted, you keep us runnin'.
Much ado about muffins. Ah...muffins.
Fred's trip to Thailand went pretty well until he met up with an ox cart makers daughter and all her sisters. As usual Fred could not make up his mind and ended up marrying all of the sisters. Now you know what has been causing his back problems. The only thing I don't understand is why he makes all his wives wear those funny uniforms.
New Orleans
The ride in was loud due to the blow out nailing the exhaust. We felt like badasses in a hot rod. Noise pollution aside the old red van sounded cool. I like driving by things with the sound of the engine echoing off it. That’s what it sounds like to everyone you pass.
Wow! The place looked destroyed. Boarded up houses, vacant houses and piles of trash that use to be houses. There we very few people around. I guess the people that did not have anything to come back to started over again somewhere else. I hope the people who redevelop the 9th Ward and that other neighborhood don’t price out the poor. I know some greedy leech somewhere is ready to pounce and do the wrong thing to fill their wallet.
The French quarter was intact and vibrant. The old soul was still there. There were a few less people, but then again it was a Tuesday. We walked around and watched a puppet show. (see photo gallery) I bought everyone cigars and we soaked our feet in the fountain for a while. Al found himself a junk to Thailand and married several women.(See photo gallery).
One Eyed Jacks was a beautiful old style New Orleans music club. A small bar in the front room with a 300 or so capacity room in back with a great bar(the old El Matador bar) and stage with great sound. Reo welcomed us and introduced us to our new bartender friends Missy and Meagan.
We got up on stage and rocked through a healthy hour long set. In the last third of the set 5 shots of Jack show up and to our surprise there’s Joe and Lisa our friends from Fall River that we met at campo C.
The next day we toured the wreckage from Katrina. All I can say is when the network news deems things unnewsworthy it does mean the problem got fixed.
The Happy Talk Band followed up and were fun. Reo talked to us about a better night and more promotion for a show in the Fall.
Thanks guys. See you soon!
We had dinner at the Capitol Room. It has great food with a fun, post college, family atmosphere. Try the Cajun encrusted tilapia.
The bartender took Freddies water in a rude due to being young kind of way. She turned out to be ok. The nice can helped a lot.
I played two games of foose-ball with Ann-Marie vs. Angela and Kent.We split the series 1 to 1. I think Kent was pissed although I also think he kinda likes it when I beat him. Angela what have you been doing to that man?
We played our hearts out. Jac Cain opened with his Poonhounds. He also tended to the sound duties. Drank late at some bar after the show with Barb and the gang. It's always good to spend time with the folks from Raleigh. Thanks for your continued support. We hope to see you again in the fall.
13 hour ride to Raleigh this time. Took the 91-84-81-64-95-85-1-route. No tolls more enjoyable ride. It’s got less roadside fast food and more unique dining options. Soft Rock and I did all the driving. The rest of the band was very happy with us. Oh yeah, gas is finally about the same price everywhere.
Upon arrival in Raleigh we were greeted by our friends sound man extroidinare Jac Cain and our new friend from the Pour House Marianne. Sadlack’s has one day left before major renovations and we can’t get away from the club to pay respects. For those of you who are wondering what or who Sadlack’s is, needen't wonder anymore. The original Krispy Kreme (and of course spellcheck is all over these last too words) is also close but we just dream too big. No donuts today.
Don Dixon is the early show. Do you remember “Praying Mantis”? Well do you? Great guy, great songs. Thanks Don.
Arrived cold. We got our crap up to the second floor via the dumbwaiter. Thanks to Brett’s mom, our lovely bartendress, for stocking extra MHL’s. Matt Hebert and Bob Hennessy take the stage. They sounded great. That Matt is so sensitive! In the van between sets whilst Bow and Carl and a few other good-natured partakers were partaking, some young shitbag belonging to a failure as a parent tried to get into the van not knowing it was full of partakers. (Apparently kids have been breaking into cars in the neighborhood) Bow almost killed himself and Carl as he climbed through and over anyone and anything in between him an the young shitbag. Young shitbag being young and a thief was a much better runner than Bow. Screaming obscenities and shaking his fists in the air as only Bow can, he gave good chase for multiple blocks until realizing he could no longer breathe.
Back at the club Peter Newland had begun his set. An hour and fifteen minutes later someone finally hit him with a tranquilizer dart that had the same affect his twenty similar sounding songs had on most of the audience. The Lonesomes were finally up. Jim the ultra professional came up to us and said we are going to keep it quick so you can get your whole set in. I replied,” you’d better not we’re here to see you!” As always the Lonesomes were perfect and we danced and made merriment.
When it was our turn we got our shit in a pile quickly and took the stage. Peter Newland unfortunately said he could only stay for a couple songs because it was getting late. I heard Bow gasp and I just smiled. I own the first Fat record and really like it. Peter thinks he’s pretty important and that’s great.
We launch into six songs and it’s a little awkward for a song or two. Then it locks in and starts to rock. After six we invited up Craig Strubel to play some harp. I swear he’s going to be considered one of the great harmonica players someday. It’s nice to have him around. We play a new version of Iron Hip. I slip in the mantra, “a bird is a bird a fish is a fish but a dog is a person”. The crowd is dancing people are clapping. The night makes over a grand that gets split between the humane society and the Red Cross. Things might be just a little bit better and you can all thank Peter Newland. Thanks Peter!
SS
p.s. Freddy said I have to mention how well Matt Hebert mc'd the raffle. "three pairs of earrings, you could start your own earring company" .Way to go Matt!
The hotel is nice. By now my drunk is turning into a hangover. Mild though, on a one to ten it’s only a five. Freddy and I unload the bags and their luggage and retire to our rooms to unpack. We have a group lunch waiting for us. This is when it dawns on me it’s afternoon. Holy crap I’m tired. Whoa wait a minute look at all that Brie. I make myself a Brie and ham sandwich and sit down for a minute at a table alone. I’m hungry and tired and it’s not a good time to be near any people. Thirty seconds later the staff from the Lyric Theater is sitting at the table with me. I run back up to the buffet. Grab a hunk of cheese and a baguette and head for my room. It’s just before the theater reps give their welcome it’s so good to have you here speech. They ask where I’m going as I grunt ,”Tired, talk later, thanks.” 24 hours later I wake up and throw away the hard bread and dried up cheese.
At some point in the night Fred wants me to go to a pub with him. I think I went for one drink and went back to bed. Fred could not wait to get out and spend some money and have some fun. Some nice young lads barley old enough to drink sent him to an Australian chain bar. Where he was crowned, King Fosters the Drinker, and they took turns entertaining him with their best American accents.
These events take place on 10/15/05
Wake up, again? Wow it doesn’t hurt. I can’t believe I actually slept. I never fall asleep the night before a tour. Sure, sometimes I get drunk and stay up until an hour before we leave and then sleep three hours past the time I should have. Holy shit! You mean to tell me I packed last night. I’m ready to go and can sit and enjoy a cup of coffee with my wife? MMMMM she makes the best fucking coffee ever. Well this is different she’s not yelling. She’s talking to me. Wait a minute; I’m not awake am I? Wait there’s the phone. No, I’m definitely awake. The phone has not stopped ringing here in five or six years and people have the audacity to chastise me for not answering it sometimes. Fuck you! You do what I do for what it pays. No never mind, I want to do it. You don’t deserve it. Right the phone is ringing. I knew it I knew it I knew it! Fred waited until thirty minutes before the bus leaves to call for a cab. I don’t think he even knows that you can call and schedule one the night before. Well the coffee was great and anything for Fred. He’d do it for me. Shit he even calls once in a while just to see how I’m doing.
In the Land cruiser bye bye to the mutts, I always miss the mutts, get Fred and get to the bus with ten minutes to spare. The wife slipped me the tongue I must have been a good boy. Oh no I wasn’t. I’ve been remembering to brush my teeth more. Hey there’s the Young at Heart Chorus. Every time I see them, no matter how frequently, they make me happy and if I’m already happy they make me happier. I swear it’s what touring with the Muppets must have been like. I love the Muppets so much. All aboard! Next pick up spot is the Basketball Hall of Fame to get all the Chicopee and Springfield chorus members. Fred and I run in to grab a cheeseburger. MMM fresh crap. I’ll enjoy every, chew, taste and swallow until about a half an hour later. That’s all I remember about the bus ride to Newark.
Easy as pie through the airport. Here come the metal detectors. Last time we left the country it was hot out and I wore shorts a wife beater and flip flops. The logic being that anyone who looks this much like trailer trash has no idea where to get or how to build a bomb. What I mean is if I’m barely wearing anything there’s no place to hide shit. This time however it’s been raining for two weeks straight and the valley is about to flood. I’m covered in metal. There are the zippers on the leather jacket; the motorcycle belt buckle the oversized bad ass buckles on my boots and of course the harmonica in my man-purse. Man that man purse ruins the look. I take it all off and fill up three tubs with my stuff. I walk through No beeps Hooray! Wait. Why are they putting the man-purse through again? Have I offended their sense of fashion? Is England full to the rim with euro-fags and they’ve stopped allowing more in? Maybe they only let real euro-fags in and I’m not euro-fag enough. Could I have just confused their senses of fashion and their not sure what category I should be judged in. Yeah that’s it. That’s always been it. Always.
Nope it was just the harmonica. Freddy’s through. Let’s go pay way to much for some vodka in that bar that would have a lot more room to drink in if they would only take the stupid fake car out of the middle of the floor. Martinis check, frequent flyer miles check and Dan Richardson check.
Three seven dollar martinis later we go to check on the boarding process. Just as I thought , slow. Bob Cilman is very concerned we are not waiting in the line of a hundred peole waiting for the doors to open ten minutes from now. Fred tells him that we are the last two guys he has to worry about. There’s no fucking way that plane is leaving without us on it. We go back to the bar for one more and of course duty free for a bottle.
On the plane everything is in order. I get my duty free purchase. It goes in my man-purse under the seat in front of me and I await flight. Soon the little gay flight attendants and their grumpy female counterparts will be coming around offering beverages. Fred and I will order ice water after ice water. Stoly on the rocks anyone? I’m pouring so you can be sure they’ll be strong. Wait a minute I’ve started to laugh uncontrollably. I mean like I did when I was ten. Like I did the first time I tried pot. The only thing I remember is Freddy thrashing his pillow like a crazy person and me trying to get him to touch Ed’s head. By the time we landed Ed had decided he would not be sitting in front of us on the way home. Furthermore I believe that Diane our beloved tour manager took the liberty of seating Fred and I apart from each other on the flight home. Holy shit I’m going to London with the Muppets. This is gonna be great. Wait a minute it’s already great and we are barley to Iceland. More soon!
About the help, help is always welcome. We would have been over years ago if no one had ever helped us. There are too many people to even mention. Here’s a big thank you to you all. It’s got to be good help though, help that is in a similar flow to what’s going on here. We are happy because we like what we do. If we were to change what we do to fit in with current profitable trends we would become sad and then like a sad person eat until we became too big to fit through the door of the club. Then we would only be able to play outdoors and sometimes it would be too cold to play. You want us to play don’t you?
Do your own stunts build your own bike and then pedal to wherever you want. Here’s to everyones path, make sure you wear sensible shoes.
Thanks for the great responses about the newsletter last week. I have no rants this week. Please come to the shows this month. The weather is better and it's time to see if your knees still bend. Wear your fun dancing clothes or don't wear clothes at all.
I was privy to the development of a plan to cut Bow Bow's hair for charity. If he wakes up this morning and remembers anything it should take place on May 28th at the Route 63 Roadhouse. Speaking of the Roadhouse we had a great time watching the Red Sox get their rings and tool on the Stankees. (Those of you who did not attend, stink)
Steve Sanderson Solo, hosting the open mic at Middle Earth in Bradford Vermont Wednesday night April 13th. Thursday will be spent pounding nails. Friday the Black Squirrels will open for The Resophonics and the Benders at Middle Earth. Saturday the Drunk Stuntmen will play all night. Middle Earth is a great sounding music venue with yummy food.
April 22nd: Iron Horse Music Hall in Northampton, a double bill with The Swinging Steaks at 10 pm and Drunk Stuntmen 11;30 til close. Tickets are selling well. You may want to get some.
Be on the lookout for the new Drunk Stuntmen T-shirt. We love our new Tees and have Mark Bode, Brian Grady, and Sven Huggins to thank for them.
Mike Flood
Mike will be having a CD release party at bar 19 next to the Calvin Theater in Northampton on Wednesday the 25th of May. You can get the new album "Beautiful Knowledge" there or at http://mikefloodmusic.com. It's music for your brain, some need not apply.
Thank you all!
Please send this newsletter to someone who might enjoy it.
SS
The Band that wouldn’t go away is here to stay. First European tour is a success.
Drunk Stuntmen were once described as “the Band that wouldn’t go away.” I’m sure the person who uttered this observation could be easily be tracked down and identified, but who has time for that? We will assume, more than likely, it was someone who had to do with booking bands. After 12 years rocking the Pioneer Valley and their fair share of national touring, they finally did go away. But do not fear the Stuntmen will be back and they will continue to do their own stunts. More on the stunts later, if you please.
Yes, indeed, that loud, raucous tattooed bunch has left us. Defying all the odds, and I wish I’d put money on this, Drunk Stuntmen left their devoted fans in the Pioneer Valley and made their first trip to Europe. Drunk Stuntmen are a band that would seem more at ease participating in one of Fred Eaglesmith’s legendary weekends, or playing with the world renowned founders of Hillbilly Surf, Southern Culture On the Skids. An unlikely pairing provided their ticket to Europe as they backed up Northampton’s beloved Young at Heart Chorus at the world premier performance of their “Road to Heaven” tour at the Luxor Theater in Rotterdam, NL. The Young at Heart Chorus, a group of elders, most of whom had reached their teens by the time WWII broke out, live up to their name by performing a unique song list encompassing anything from the Rolling Stones, to the Clash, to Santana.
Stuntmen front man, Steve Sanderson said, “You have heard the songs they perform so many times, but when these old folks sing them, the meaning of the song changes so profoundly.” Sanderson admitted to being overcome with emotion during one their practice sessions, a feeling whom anyone who has ever seen the chorus perform the Bob Dylan classic, “Forever Young,” has experienced.
In addition to performing with the Young at Heart Chorus, the Stuntmen have filled in the blanks with a tour of the Netherlands promoting their latest recording Iron Hip. They played to enthusiastic crowds in Amsterdam, Heythusen, Rotterdam and appeared at the Axis Festival, an annual display of Music, theater, and dance in Assen. The Stuntmen were also featured live on radio station VPRO’s Club 3 voor 12, which is broadcast in front of a live audience. The show’s host recounted the tale that the “Drunk Stuntmen were formed around the moonshine still in the backwoods of Western Massachusetts at a time when honest music was being mugged and beaten to death in a dark alley somewhere in the bowels of corporate America.”
Of the radio experience, Steve Said, “First the Dutch look at us wierd, and then the music starts and they come around to the connection between the way we look and the music we play. Being on VPRO radio was sort of like being on American Bandstand with out Dick Clark.”
When “Not Dick Clark” asked if they make honest music and what honest music is, Sanderson asserted, “I hope we make honest music. I think honest music is what comes from the heart,and don’t try to be anybody else, just be yourself and see what comes out.”
“Not Dick Clark” also asked if they had ever been to Europe. Freddy said no, but Steve offered the information that he had been in Europe before as the tour manager for another band. To which “Not Dick Clark” asked “It wasn’t ZZ Top was it?” alluding to Stuntman Steve’s elongated beard.
“Nope, My beard’s not long enough.”
When prompted with the question, “Have you ever been in a band where you were not yourselves?” Steve responded, “Well, actually this band at times, long ago wasn’t itself. It took a while to grow to become.” (I bet NDC contemplated the word grow is as another opening for a long beard joke.)
And when did they realize they had become themselves? “When we stopped getting booed.” Quipped Lead guitarist/pedal steel player F. Alex Johnson. And the name? "Freddy fell down and didn't spill his beer." He later went on to marvel that he was a Drunk Stuntman. Some things just stick. True story, and it happened in NYC on New Year’s eve. You can listen to this interview and live performances Downtown, Out of Bed, and Stars, from the album Iron Hip at http://3voor12.vpro.nl/3voor12/maps/index_overzicht.jsp. Click the icon for the third hour of the show.
One of the more raucous Stunts in Europe occurred at the Axis Festival in Assen. Early into the set they popped a fuse and lost electricity. Undeterred by the lack of current Stuntman Steve raced down into the crowd to deliver an acoustic version of “Drunken Sailor”, soon to be joined by JJ. O’Connell on tambourine and Freddy singing his guitar parts, to a very enthusiastic crowd. A bird’s eye view of the scene caught on video by Bow Bow will be featured on a soon to be launched members area of their web site Drunkstuntmen.com.
Honest Music
If there was ever a performer who played honest music, It was Frank Zappa. Hell the man played a spinning bicycle tire with a violin bow. Talk about being yourself. He eschewed the mainstream, producing and recording his own material. And his live performances were legendary feats of musical theater. Decades ago Frank Zappa took his fans on a musical journey. No, not the one about the Mud Shark, and the Edgewater Inn. This journey began in a garage in California. Through the persona of a Big Brother type character, the Central Scrutinizer, our dear deceased maestro took it upon himself to describe to the listener what could happen if you should decide to choose a career in music. Joe’s Garage painted a farcical satire dotted with tragic interactions between the bands and their fans. Okay time warp forward, 30 years later. The Central Scrutinizer sure sounds a hell of a lot like Clear Channel. What does it take to succeed if you choose a career in music in 2004? It can’t just be knowing some “nice songs.”
To find an answer the obvious places to look would be MTV, VHI. Or you could check out NICK or the Disney Channel where teenaged Pop Tarts are prancing around catering to their target audience where looks pre-empt talent 24/7. I get that hang dog look and wonder what is wrong with me? This stuff is popular. It is what millions of people want. Look at American Idol…this is what people Obviously want. But it has no substance leaving a taste in your mouth like a sandwich that’s had its use by date extended one time too many.
If there were only a simple answer to the question - what does it take to succeed in music? We would all be living the high life, in a gated community, with cabana boys, crew sluts, and plump, fuzzy beach towels, sharing pizzas with Warren and collecting never ending dividends from royalties and investments. You’d have a better chance of winning the lottery than lifting the bass line from a Queen song and turning it into an instant retirement fund, like Vanilla Ice did. Then again if you were Vanilla Ice nowadays, you would be on a reality TV show with Eric Estrada, Ha Ha!
Hmmmm. What does it take? An agent named Murray is probably a good start. A lawyer, a stylist, a publicist, a song writer, assuming your only talent is your voice, a tight pair of jeans and a nice set of knockers which will be worshipped by scores of deviants who hope you will reveal then when you finally turn 18. Shout out to Lindsay and Hillary. Lets see…oh yeah a producer, a production company which can put together a concert tour you can lip synch….FEH! And of course the blessings of a company like Clear Channel
It is almost as though REAL music doesn’t exist. I NEED A FUCKING ANTIDOTE!
Drunk Stuntmen. The name, to the uninitiated conjures up some vivid imagery, assuming of course that too much MTV hasn’t caused you to regress into a hypnotized mongoloid in need of a drool cup. You can imagine a trailer full of rowdies on a movie set. Getting schwilly on beer before they risk their lives jumping into a canyon or off a tall building through a wall of flames. Mr. Mojo Risin? Drunk Stuntman. Another drunken stunt that comes to mind, one of the most notorious and legendary of the 20th century, involved the grand daddy of alternative country. That would be the theft and cremation of Gram Parsons’ body in the Joshua Tree National Forest. Somehow two drunk hippies in a run down hearse loaded with beer and Jack Daniel’s and gasoline, Hi-test so “he wouldn’t ping” managed to pull that one off right under the noses of the cops. Hell, a cop at the airport even helped load the body into the hearse.
Fortunately, we have our antidote living right here in the Pioneer Valley, The Drunk Stuntmen…six guys. six shots of Jack Daniel’s “and please make it Jack Daniel’s”, the contents of a carefully packed van that has seen better days. Better days maybe, but at least it hasn’t burned down like the last one. All of these are the ingredients that make hours of magic and energy on any given night of the week. Yeah that’s right, Drunk Stuntmen, working class heroes. Practitioners of the fine craft, bringing us solace, rushes of adrenaline and general all around good times through music. Honest Music. No smoked mirrors or other forms of chicanery are needed. And they do perform all of their own stunts. Sometimes in bright blue polyester Tuxes, other times disguised as the Beach Boys, or playing an original score as an accompaniment to the silent film version of Peter Pan. Have no doubt they do DO all of their own Stunts.
These are the guys who have flipped your eggs, poured your coffee, cared for your special cousin, cracked that shit filled sewer line and replaced it so you didn’t have to look at those floaty things in the pot anymore. Front line soldiers in the battle against mediocrity, lip synching, and general lack of talent. What kind of stunt would these guys perform in the presence of Clay Aiken. Shit he is playing at the local agricultural fair and believe it people, he will draw a crowd.
Honest music digs deep. You feel it. You can feel the honesty to a fault. You feel the pain as you imagine your lover drifting away taking everything you had but your drinking habit as in the tune “Mary in a Bathtub”. You can also feel the triumph of love found and tightly bound, where one partner completes the either. All of these feelings arise when the Stuntmen deliver their melodic prose. The crowd identifies in a strong way. A long time ago a more prolific insightful writer than myself, went to Las Vegas looking for the American Dream. What he came up with was a sorrowful requiem, a grim reporting of turbulent and unsure times where the American Dream is often void in the lives of the masses and experienced by the few. It was a tale of a country embroiled in an unpopular and seemingly winless war. Unemployment was rising as quickly as inflation and the country was basically divided as to what the proper solution could be. Sounds eerily familiar doesn’t it? Fortunately for Dr Thompson, his accounting of the search for the American was also fucking hilarious, so it wasn’t all gloom and doom. The ravaging of the Las Vegas strip by Hunter Thompson and his attorney Oscar Acosta is undoubtedly one of the original drunken stunts.
The Drunk Stuntmen are the consummate heroes for the working class. Reminding their audience at every turn that the American dream is there for the taking. Theirs to be experienced and felt and danced to ‘til death do us part. The American Dream that has more substance than material wealth. You can find the soul of the American dream deeply imbedded in songs where “failure is a friend”, and “everyone can play guitar, good enough for this one bar.” The tunes resonate with images of frontier heroes, losers and gamblers. They outline relationships both solid, loving and triumphant and soiled and rife with dysfunction. Even teetering on the precarious cliff of being ‘imaginary” as is the case with the driving country tune “Heidi . This imagery combined with a deeply organic American country sound stirs one to remember why Workingman’s Dead was such a break though album at the time of it’s release. The simple and elegant country phrasings that people can identify with and kept them humming surprised even the Grateful Dead as they took a break from their soaring form of psychedelia.
Steve Sanderson the front man for the band commented on their relationship with the fans as we strolled down a Northampton, MA street. “People who don’t know us think we are rock stars and we intimidate them I guess. But the people who talk to us after the shows realize that we are just like them and we have lot more in common than you would think. Unless you are a pussy and won’t talk to us to find that out.”.
Drunk Stuntmen fall in with bands like Wilco, Fred Eaglesmith, Sun Volt, Uncle Tupelo and other countrified rockers. The three guitar front line of Terry T-bone Flood, Steve Sanderson, Al Johnson aka Freddy Freedom increases the likely hood that they can actually play Skynryd songs as good if not better than the band currently disguised as Lynrd Skynryd. Steve says, “You can only play so many tunes at Bike week in Daytona before the crowd has to hear Skynryd.” Rounding out the line up are Scott Hall on keyboards, JJ O’Connell on Drums and J. Scott Brandon on bass. They are influenced by classic rock, Willie Nelson Johnny Cash and just about anything they can get their hands on.
As we we’re leaving a show recently my friend Becky, who really doesn’t get out that much, gushed about the energy level produced during the evening’s well attended acoustic performance at the Silk City Tap Room in Florence, MA. She was even more moved that the band took a break from their load out duties to have a quick chat.
“You never really get a chance to see music like that, and it was pure and honest with no pretension. They are really nice guys. And most important, every one was listening to the music, it wasn’t a typical bar crowd.”
The show at the Silk City can be chalked up as another one of their Stunts. Why? Well for starters it occurred on a Monday night. It was one of those rare occasions that defies explanation and everyone who was present that night Knows this to be true. And the crowd will be back for more. These guys got what it takes.
They like to drink and be drunk. More importantly they like to write good songs and play them with an extroidinary amount of passion. They will make you wonder why you spent so much time listening to crap on the radio. They will make you forget who left you for good and feel good about the person to your left. It's going to be a long night. All will be forgiven. All will be forgotten. When you wake up with a pocket full of quarters and a wristband on your ankle, you'll remember screaming at the top of your lungs at a stage full of strangers, turned best friends, and then you'll know why you went.
Drunk Stuntmen are coming.
The music starts now.
Do your own stunts.
Drunk Stuntmen play the Screaming Pig May 6th and 7th in Provincetown, MA. (508)-487-5804
http://www.drunkstuntmen.com
413-218-7833
I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this response but there have been some technical difficulties, which prevented me from receiving your email sooner. This of course refers to the comment, which was made in a Drunk Stuntmen newsletter. The comment in question stated that we are grateful for the attention the Advocate has given us even if only half of the data was correct. Let me explain.
I have been a musician in the valley for 14 years, (and publicist for 8), and I know that the Advocate does a lot for the local music scene. Many issues have featured local artist on the cover. Features, editor's picks, reviews, and of course Gary Carra's "Nightcrawler" devote plenty of space to the furtherment of the careers of some of the finest musicians this valley has to offer. For this I am grateful. For this, the Pioneer Valley is lucky.
Which half, you ask, of your coverage is incorrect?
Two years ago Drunk Stuntmen played a show at St. John Cantius church as part of First Night Northampton. This was given ample coverage in your paper as was many other offerings on this busy night. A few days later we embarked on a 2 month tour of the South. In the middle of our tour, someone posted on our website message board that they had gone to St. John Cantius on the following two weekends to see Drunk Stuntmen as it was listed in the Advocate. This occurred for a total of four weeks after the initial event. Not just one person was misled but many. This is bad for business.
On the cover of your Dec. 9th issue, you featured Steve Sanderson from Drunk Stuntmen, as well as Eileen Hall from The Young at Heart Chorus. The article, written by Daniel Oppenhimer, was about the Stuntmen/Young at Heart collaboration, which was to occur at the Hippodrome in Springfield on Saturday Dec. 11. It was a fine article. The problem that arose was that at the very end of the article it stated that the date for the show was Dec. 10th not the 11th. Many people spent countless hours writing, arranging, rehearsing, and promoting this show. Gary Carra devoted his whole article that week to the show. He listed it as the correct date. You have to admit that this creates confusion. You have to admit this is bad for business.
In a non Stuntmen related incident, Daniel Oppenhimer wrote a short piece in the Nov. 25th issue in which he espouses the virtues of Ware River Club. He complains that WRSI should play and promote this band more often. WRSI at the time was playing this band in regular rotation often chatting up the listeners about the band, the songs on the new record, and their upcoming shows. Incidentally Phil Straub, a DJ on WRSI wrote a response to this claim stating basically what I already said. In his response the editor included the date from which the original words were printed: "The Riverloution starts here" Nov. 25, 1004. While this last oversight might be picky (some would say hilarious), it is another example of carelessness on your part. Someone's not paying attention.
While some may say that any press is good press, I beg to differ. Any press is good press except when it is inaccurate press.
I appreciate your continued support of the local music scene and of course Drunk Stuntmen. I hope this clarifies your querry, and I hope it is taken as constructively as possible.
Yours,
Al Johnson
rock salvation to eager ears.
Drunk Stuntmen, Still on the path of rock righteousness, needed a ride to Holland and Belgium so they hitched a lift with the world renown Young @Heart chorus
After the success of the unlikely pairing the stunts proceeded on to complete a very successful tour of Holland with songs from Iron Hip and the soon to be released Trailer Life, all this touring done independently, without label support. That you could say is a fine stunt in itself. Immediately after touching down on American soil the stunts went right back into rehearsal for the new series of collaborations called “Young at Heart Chorus and Drunk Stuntmen Back to Back” This time the show would contain many more originals and a six piece horn section. A multimedia video presentation making every one not on drugs get a dose of what it might feel like.The two hour show was a smash hit. Drawing capacity crowds to the Academy of Music in Northapmton and The Hippodrome in Springfield not to mention a media attention blitz, the cover of every newspaper in the valley, interviews with the Boston Globe, NPR and Time Magazine.
>
> Good luck keeping up with these independent overachievers but if you think you can you can, head over to www.drunkstuntmen.com and find out
what there up to or what they might be planning next.
>
For interviews please contact Steve Sanderson: 413-218-7833 or email:stuntmansteve@drunkstuntmen.com
Life is good. I'm trying to calm down a little. I was in the studio today and got a little over stimulated. Thank heavens for the case of Hyland Brewery beer that Todd stashed in our van Monday. MMMMMM tastey. I would like to offer my apologies to anyone I offended at the Stein night party. Krysten please stop buying me whiskey! It was an honor playing a beers birthday party. Oh, and thanks to Surfer Dude for the ride home.
Trailer Life is nearing completion. We had to reschedule trumpet parts for Monday, but other than that we are still on schedule to begin mix down on Wednesday. Mastering with Jeff Lipton will be on June 6th and then we need to send the puppy off to the duplication house. Please if you have not sent in your $ for the pre-release package now is as good a time as any. Follow this link to detailed instructions on how to pay by check or credit card. Please make checks payable to Drunk Stuntmen.
http://www.drunkstuntmen.com/news66524.html
Don't miss the play I'm presenting this Saturday. If you go, you might laugh yourself silly!
Thanks for all your support!
SS
Academy Arts and Steven M. Sanderson Present:
Varla Jean Merman's Girl with a Pearl Necklace (an act of love)
Academy of Music Theatre Northampton, Massachusetts
Saturday May 21, 2005 at 9:00 PM
Box Office opens at 7:00PM · Doors at 8:15PM
General Admission Tickets $15 in advance; $20 day of show
Producer's Premium Seating $30 includes post performance reception at Silk Road Cafe
Tickets at Pride & Joy · Academy of Music Theatre in Northampton · Food For Thought Books, Amherst · Glamourpuss in Hadley and Blue Moon Coffee, Springfield or by phone @ 413 587 1247
Girl with a Pearl Necklace; An Act of Love written by Jeffery Roberson with Michael Schiralli and Jacques Lamarre · costumes by Philip Heckman · directed by Michael Schiralli
Sponsored by The Valley Advocate · Salon Herdis · 88.5 WFCR · Academyarts · Pride & Joy · InNewsweekly · Thorne's Marketplace
"Girl With a Pearl Necklace: An Act of Love", written specifically for Merman's talents by her creator, Jeffery Roberson, with Michael Schiralli (who also directs the production) and Jacques Lamarre, is the story of a girl (Merman), whose biological clock is ticking and who is desperate to get married. The drama asks: Will Varla be institutionalized in a state of matrimony or installed in a state institution? Will the girl with a pearl necklace find that special someone who will get under her skin and see through the Vermeer? With a hope chest filled with new videos and songs, Varla Jean Merman's offensive marriage act has something old (Varla), something new (her face), something borrowed (if you stretch the legal definition) and something blue.
Varla Jean Merman made her feature film debut in the comedy "Girls Will Be Girls", a performance that won her the 2003 Outfest Film Festival Best Actor Award and the Best Actress Award from the Aspen HBO Film Festival. Merman, whose other important theatre performances have included the Off- Broadway and national hits "Enough About Me: An Unauthorized Autobiography", "Varla Jean Merman's Holiday Ham", "Varla Jean Merman is The Bad Seedling", and "Varla Jean Merman's Under A Big Top". Varla Jean's creator Jeffery Roberson co- starred with Varla in the Hartford Stage and Long Wharf Theatre productions of "The Mystery of Irma Vep", the Broadway and national touring companies of the hit musical "Chicago", and in the recurring role of Rosemary Chicken on ABC's "All My Children" (sparking a hot new catch-phrase, "Ooh, Bacon!"). Varla is back in the U.S. after a triumphant Australian tour that included two sold out performances at the world famous Sydney Opera House. For additional information on Varla Jean's landmark career, visit her website.
Varla Jean Merman Online
For Information and Tickets
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
email: varla@comcast.net
phone: 413.587.1247
web: http://www.northamptonartscouncil.org
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bringing up the topic of food was a clever ploy to wax poetic about a new sandwich that has taken over the space in my brain usually reserved for unimportant matters. The tender crisp bacon cheddar ranch from BK is this author's vote for best fast food chicken sandwich/commercial. With Darius Rucker (Hootie for the noninformed) decked out in a purple Nudie style cowboy suit with buxom babes splashing ranch dressing upon streets paved with cheddar cheese and giant strips of bacon tumbling through the kingdom. I couldn't resist including the lyrics as I find them not only hilarious but hard to find. This is the full version which is usually stripped down to half or a quarter this length (kind of like the forbidden full version of the Cheers theme that only Scott Hall knows). Keep in mind that this is sung to the tune of "Big Rock Candy Mountain" from the O Brother soundtrack.
When my belly starts a-rumblin',
and I'm jonesin' for a treat.
I close my eyes for a big surprise,
the Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch.
I love the Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch,
the breasts they grow on trees.
And streams of bacon ranch dressing,
flow right up to your knees.
Tumbleweeds of bacon,
and cheddar paves the streets.
Folks don't front 'ya cause ya got the juice,
there's a train of ladies comin' with a nice caboose.
Never get in trouble, never need an excuse,
the Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch.
I love the Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch
no one tells ya to behave.
Your wildest fantasies come true,
Dallas cheerleaders give you shaves.
Red onions make you laugh instead,
and french fries grow like weeds.
Ya get to veg all day,
all the lotto tickets pay.
The king who wants you to have it your way,
that's the Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Ranch.
The sandwich is pricey. $4.72 to be exact. But it's one helluva big sammich. I managed to ensnare Steve, Bow, and Durst into the food foray. The only complaint: The bun could be better. Other than that it lives up to the hype. And on we go.
When we got to the Roadhouse at 7:30, Jamie and Carol, and Tommy were there and getting things prepared for a night of good rockin. Jamie told the lot of us to "drink as much as we possibly can". Powerful words Jamie, powerful words indeed. Millers were dispensed and we loaded in (no pun intended). As we were setting up a 10 foot party sub was being birthed from the protective wrap that had been its life support system for the ride over. Steve's first thought was that he just threw away $4.72 at BK. I quickly assuaged his fears with the observation that he already knew what a piece of Party Sub tastes like (Market St. Superbowl Pats vs Green Bay) yet he hadn't indulged in the TCBCR before tonight. The communal experience goes beyond mere words and will most surely fill the spot where his cash had been like ranch dressing fills the nooks and crannies of a corn dusted bun.
It took a little while but the room quickly filled up with Stuntfans and heavy drinkers alike. The hills are alive with the sounds of Stuntmen.
Started the first set off with some country rompin. Stuntgrass, Lay Me Down, and a new song, the Steve Sanderson penned Made of Wood. It features Fleabone on mandolin and myself on steel. It's a mid tempo countryish little ditty with hooks galore and a haunting melody. It's written about the house Steve grew up in in Taunton and his folks' recent sale of said house and exodus to Florida. Here's a sample:
"It was made of wood
and love was understood
not bricks or tin
now we’re sellin the house that I grew up in"
So the set progresses and gets the folks on the dance floor. Bow sang "Just My Imagination" in The Stones style for a lady in the hilltown crew who's birthaday it was (or was it a clever ploy to get Bow on the mic?). The energy kept building and building and the drinks kept coming and coming. After a quick break we got right back to it but this time no warmup slow songs. "Downtown", "Low", "Clown to Be", "Clear Channel" followed by what..."Radio Radio" Oh yes it was a fun set. On and on it went until a rousing version of J. Geils "(nothin but a) Houseparty" closed out the night. I did a little investigating and determined that It was actually more than a
houseparty and alerted the proper individuals. I can't give too many details of what happened after the show and before the sun came up. However, I would like to apologize to the several people I convinced to set their clocks ahead an hour. It could have been the other way around and I'd have been in big trouble.
As Steve pulled down the road leading to the Meadows at 5 in the am he says, "We're going to my favorite place...and we're gonna get stuck in the f#@$in' mud. Well this got Bow's attention who redirected Steve. As he peels off in the opposite direction of the impending mud, something big and heavy and glass fell out of my bag and onto the drivers seat floor. Hmm...I wonder what that could be?
Pork...beef...water...vinegar...
FF
Freddy loves three things, rocking out, food and his mamma.
SS
blue, he starts doing pushups, then the electric slide, then somersaults forwards and backwards. Ladies and gentlemen we have found a real Drunk Stuntman. He had a couple of buddies and a lovely lady friend in his group who brought in a bottle of, ahem, Jim Beam. I forget who said it but one of us blurted out(regarding the discrepancy of Jack to Jim) "and all this to save a lousy three dollars"...we love our fans.
So anyway we played the freakin song and didn't mind the Jim nearly as much chilled (while still minding a little). Oh I forgot to mention the thoughtfulness of Bow's sister for bringing a mixed case of holiday beer and "others" for some good old b.y.o.b. action. The Smirnoff ice almost gave rise to an incident involving Dave Durst and involuntary gag reflexes, thanks again. After the 2 hour plus show, which included a mini-set of Fall River's own Freddy Freedom singing about stolen jesus figures and getting stuck in the middle of Bedford St. in the rain. So, show's over and we get invited to the "Mobile Heated Party Unit" or MHPU for short by our new friends for a little banana liquor and some good times. This would be a 4 Harley sized trailer with a heater and a 911 themed wall mural. So we quaffed a few shots of the yellow gold and headed out to "The Belmont" apparently Fall River's most famous bar that I never heard of. We were promised 1920's speakeasy charm with a hint of whorehouseness. Signed sealed and delivered was all this and more. I (Freddy) found out that my Mom and Uncle used to go to the Belmont and sing and drink, much like we did except for the singing. Great place. Awesome people. Viva Fall Rive! What's the best way to say goodnight to this lovely town. Why heading out into a raging snowstorm of course. Steve took the reigns and delivered us safely through the frozen tundra. Steve is wicked cool. Wicked, wicked, cool. Kudo's to Dave Durst who racked up the first point for a Drunk Stuntmen drummer in our ongoing radio song guessing challenge. Ask any of us about it and see how we light up with anticipation at the idea that we can talk about it. Tune in next time when I tell you all about P-town and the Shire. Cliff Eberheart I got your number fool.
FF
The night started with a performance by Mike Flood and after a few sound difficulties he was making us think without us even knowing it. Be on the lookout for the release of his new album “Beautiful Knowledge.” Next up was Easthampton’s own National Carpet. They rocked through a short set of well-worded and well-sung rock songs. Thanks to them for sharing the night with us. I’d like to thank Glamourpuss Vintage on Route 9 in Hadley for my stylish embroidered jumpsuit. Thanks Elaine! Trueself Tattoo gave away a $50 gift certificate to the lucky lady who guessed the number I was thinking of. I don’t know who’s worse: me for thinking it or her for thinking I was thinking it. Congratulations to Chris Ellis for knowing what Freddy Freedom and his imaginary girlfriend Heidi were having for their Valentines Day dinner. Enjoy the T-shirt.
The Squealing Pig was a really fun time. We realized we had left our mic case in Soft Rocks car and tried to do the show sans electricity. That plan was foiled as soon as the first guy as loud as Ernie walked in. Ahbi came to the rescue with a radio Shack mic stolen from the club across the street. When we return to the Pig on 2/25 we will be full band, bring your earplugs, the club is small but really fun. Thanks to Ahbi, Alexis, Tony ,Olin and Emily for a wonderful time. We hope your blizzard party was fun. Next time we'll bring the party favors.
Our apologies to anyone who was crazy enough to make the trek out to Fall River for the blizzard show because when you got to the Narrows (rescheduled to 2/24) we were at the Portuguese men's club having supper and shots of the sweet nectar of Portugal. All of this was happening right across the street from where our beloved Freddy grew up. For any of those who have been around long enough to remember the song "Moniker" you could actually "drive right in and get stuck in the middle". For the record the Stuntmen were at the Narrows at 5:30 willing to put on the show but when we found out Judy and Lynda Johnson were not coming we immediately cancelled the show. Dave Durst provided one of a bagfull of laughs in Fall River this past weekend. The Marconi Club on the corner of Bedford and Johnson St (Named after Freddy's great, great, grandfather...no joke) was the setting. With the Sagres flowing and the inimitable sounds of Jorge Fererria pumping out "Viva Fall River" (also no joke) Dave ordered up the house special. For those in the know, that would of course be the "Chourico Bombeiro" or "flaming chourico". Curious? I know you are. So what arrives to Dave's surprise was a 7 inch length of well cooked chourico served in a ceramic brown pig...on fire. Dursty gave it his all trying to blow it out so as to eat said flaming chourico, but alas his lung capacity was not that of the average Portugese snowplow driver. Sheepishly he handed over the blazing pork to Anna (our lovely bartender) to do the job. Somehow, in the melee of it all, the napkin Dave had on the table suddenly went up in flames just as he was about to dive in. Luckily Dave's instincts as a former circus employee kicked in. He quickly blew the napkin over the other side of the bar where it landed safely on a bottle of 151. Anna took it from there and stamped it out on the floor saving us all from impending embarrassment. A fantastic meal for all followed and we whiled away the time as the snow laid down it's savage whiteness of white. It's just a good thing we never get a round of shots on fire...or is it?
After dinner and turning down plowing jobs the Stuntmen loaded into Saint Pedro and headed for 495 North. We made it as far as Auburn exit 10 on the mass pike. We got us a room at the comfort inn and settled in for the night. Everyone is home and safe and we hope all of you are too. How'bout them Pat's.
==============================================
Drunk Stuntmen were the focus of an extensive feature in the Mar/Apr 2003 edition of No Depression. No Depression is the world's premier magazine covering alt.country (whatever that is) music. Subscription copies of the issue are circulating already. It is scheduled to hit newsstands the week of March 3, 2003.
Commonly, a band's first feature in No Depression is limited to a stock photo and a couple columns on one page. The Drunk Stuntmen feature is eight pages long, led off by a two-page full band photo and the headline "Barroom Blitz: Massachusetts' Drunk Stuntmen found their way out of a jam through the sounds of the south." The feature was written by No Depression co-editor Peter Blackstock and includes photos by Shawn Rocco and co-editor Grant Alden.
The article includes a thorough musical history of the Stuntmen, a full band interview, and praise for the band's new album Iron Hip. "From the straight-shooting opener Downtown to the dramatic ebb-and-flow of Low to the instantly catchy pop of Out of Bed to the powerful balladry of Stars, Iron Hip represents a significant step forward in songwriting from the band's first two records. It may be a lost cause, however, for the Drunk Stuntmen ever to capture in the studio the sheer energy and charisma that radiates throughout the room when they're onstage."
According to the No Depression Web site (www.nodepression.net), the magazine is distributed directly to over 180 independent record stores and newsstands. International chain stores that carry No Depression include Tower Records, Borders Books and Music, Barnes & Noble, Virgin Megastores, and Chapters (in Canada). International circulation accounts for 11 percent of the magazine’s total.
Drunk Stuntmen would like to extend enormous thanks to Peter, Grant, Shawn, and the entire staff at No Depression for their interest and support. We encourage all our fans who aren't subscribers already to pick up a copy of No Depression issue #44 next week (and send in the card to start your own subscription if you know what's good for you).
after a drowsy, teary goodbye with Heidi at 6 a.m.(Arrow and Cassius didn't budge. too cold), we hit the road south. it's cold in N.E. and we left with 3 fresh inches of snow on the ground. 14 hrs later it had relented to rain and serious fog. we arrived in Blowing Rock, NC in the Blue Ridge Mtns. and home to Canyons Restaurant. the shroud of fog meant we missed out on the scenic vistas this area is known for, but the place reminded me of the Harvest Valley Restaurant on Mt. Tom. Nora greeted us very cheerfully and got the grub together for us weary travelers. Brad behind the bar did his thing and we settled down for a fine meal. Seth on the sound got us situated onstage and then we headed to our accommodations for the night. the place was called the Green Park Inn and it was a resort with a "Shining"-type feel to it. we immediately found out the place was indeed haunted. we also learned that part of "Dirty Dancing" was filmed here. 1st rate digs for the 1st night of tour. we got back to Canyons and hung out with Ryan the night mgr. for awhile. with a whopping crowd of 5 (i had predicted 2, scott: 4), we hit it. 4 college kids from nearby Appalachian State were whooping it up in front of us and it turns out to be their bud Brad's(not the bartender) 23rd birthday. being the only people in the room, we bonded with them quickly. our present to Brad was to grant his request for some Johnny Cash. "Folsom Prison" and "Stripes" made the dude happy. it was a fun time on a rainy tues. night in the on top of a Blue Ridge Mtn. with some good fun kids. Ryan was apologetic about the low turnout, but you can't complain when you get a great meal and a posh place to stay. many thanks to all at Canyons in Blowing Rock, NC.
4/9
we left the Green Park Inn and Mr. Torrance and an ax in Scatman Carruthers' chest. went down the mtn. in pea-soup fog. no scenery to speak of. the fog finally lifted and we headed east down I-40 to a little place i've mentioned once or twice in Raleigh, NC. that's right folks i'm talking Sadlack's Heroes! there's a sign in the parking lot that we like to park in front of saying "Parking For Sadlack's Heroes Only". the people here make us feel like heroes every time we're in Raleigh, for sure. a beer magically appears in your hand immediately upon arrival. we got there early enough to have our favorite rock n roll sandwiches, then we set up. the cast of characters showed their faces one by one. Johny from the great band Patty Hurst Shifter at his spot and the end of the bar, and our favorite Raleigh photographer Mary gave terry a pic she took of Tall Girl when we were in town last. on my way to the bathroom i noticed some familiar prose hanging from the bulletin board. my diary excerpt from our last Sad's escapade was posted there. i was touched people, really. i had a nice moment recalling what i wrote and the best part was that at the end of it someone had scrawled "Fuck the Stuntmen! We Miss Tall Girl!". seems you made quite an impact here Tall! a delightful woman saw me reading the diary and someone informed her that i was the author. she said she loved the diary but did offer one correction to what was posted on the wall. i had referred to Sad's star softball player as "Punchout Bob" based on terry's interpretation of what was really "Pawnshop Bob" (Bob used to work at one). cursed southern drawl strikes again! apologies to Bob. everyone seemed to think "Punchout" fit Bob as well, though. he's good people and took it well. we got the show underway and the room filled up as usual. met some new friends (and partners in soil management or something), Heather and Stymie. 2 cute girls, one weird ass name. thanks for buying the cd and for the email too. see you in the fall. old friends Suzie Guzzi, Ben, Lisa, Angela, Kent were in attendance. it was Kent's birthday the day before so in honor of his being the all-time pitcher in our DSM vs. SLX softball games, as well as his birthday, we gave the old bastard an autographed game ball from our last trouncing of the SLX squad. Angela had received the 1st game ball so their mantle (or the closet, wherever they keep them) has 2 losses displayed. got nothing but love for ya both! we of course had a great show and closed up Sad's and headed to the late night bar, Jackpot, with a crew in tow. it seems our good friend M. doled out some "bliss" to herself and a couple stuntmen before we got there. it kind of led to a short stay at Jackpot as a very happy Steve took a running belly flop onto a crowded table (after being warned not to) and got his ass tossed out. apologies to Sheriff Todd for leaving you hanging at our turn on the pool table. i got to the van and decided it my cue to find a quiet place in our pal Lisa's apt. down the street. as i was leaving, i was apparently the only one to witness steve losing the ability to walk in the parking lot resulting a full faceplant into a huge puddle. that was the last i saw of Jen, Melanie, Rose-Ann, and the boys that night. they eventually made it back to Jen's and crashed after tending to steve's boo-boos. i got to Lisa's and gratefully crashed with her 3 cats eyeing me and making weird sounds at me all night. apologies for missing out on seeing my favorite Basset Hound, Patty. give her a big wet kiss from me, if you would, Jen. see all you wackos at Sadlack's in the fall. miss you all!
4/10
hung out with the cats at Lisa's until the boys picked me up. off we went through the poring rain down to Wilmington,NC. it took awhile but we finally found the venue, called Dreams tucked discreetly behind an old hotel. John our soundman for the night greeted us and we set up on the huge stage as some fine bbq was ordered from next door. it's a wed. night and John didn't expect much in the way of a crowd. he was right. anyway, we checked into the local fleabag/crackhead motel (contractors staying there warned us of the large cockroaches in the shower. duly noted, sir.). we went back to cavernous and nearly empty Dreams and for a moment packing it up and bolting. we owe the place a set at least for the food and rooms, so we hit it. some folks did wander in and we granted a Merle Haggard request to a couple who danced to a that and some of our tunes as well. met some friendly dudes from a local band and they liked the set so all was not lost. steve and i took the walk back to the hotel as the rest stayed and hung out with aforementioned local band and friends. they ended up back at the hotel and had a session with some local crackheads, then shooed them out for loitering. strange night in Wilmington, NC to say the least.
4/11
stalled as long as we could at the fleabag until housekeeping booted us. steve and fred did get to see our friend the cucaracha, i did not. a slow ride through many rural towns and we were in Charlotte, NC. specifically, the Derita part of Charlotte, home of Puckett's Farm Equipment, the place we play tonight(?). an old garage selling farm implements turned into cool rock n roll/NASCAR bar. Charlotte Speedway is nearby and the walls of Puckett's have discarded pieces of race cars hanging about. met some locals who seemed a little distant ("I don't know if a Democrat would ever show his face around here."), to the Yankees in their local bar, but after soundcheck they warmed up to us. "You boys don't sound like your from Massatushits". we get it all the time. one dude talked exactly like that guy "Boomhauer" from the King of the Hill TV show. for real. we recieved good luck for the show by touching the thumb of a woman who said she was a 3rd cousin of Johnny Cash, so we have that going for us. Dave the house soundman was a kind fellow and made us sound great onstage. we did our thing and an appreciative crowd did their thing. our good friend Kyra made the show and we hung out with her and watched the closing band, Jem Crossland and the Hypertonics. a fine rockabilly band led by a British dude (Irish?). John, the Hypertonics' drummer showed me his old school hearse he drives around. a cool drum vehicle and chick magnet indeed. we closed the place down after meeting some nice folks at Puckett's, then followed Kyra back to her and Martha's place. it was damn late so hitting the hay was swift.
4/12
woke to a gorgeous day and the good coffee is on! Martha's house and property in general is a NC paradise for sure. couldn't ask for a more relaxing vibe, and we pretty much lounged around most of the day, hot tubbing, doing laundry, reading, and eating a fine chicken caccitore by bow. Martha and her friend Marcus tended to the smoker out back filled with salmon and mullet for a dinner party that night. unfortunately we couldn't stay and we sadly said goodbye to Kyra and Martha. made the short drive to Winston-Salem,NC and the Rubber Soul. last time we were here we had a great show with the fine band Cigar Store Indians. the folks working Rubber Soul are top notch and treat us well. then we had a blast with our new friend Mark at his ranch house. tonight was kind of the same thing, with a few less people. played 3 sets and then it was time for Mark's place. some of us got separate rides (terry and fred took the limo), the rest in the van, and when we pulled up to the house the party had already started. piled into the limo for a "meeting", then went inside. turned out to be another watch-the-sun-come-up-type of time at Mark's. a good man and gracious host. infinite thanks to him and hi to all the new friends we made at his house.
4/13
today technically started 10 hrs. ago but i'll go to bed now............with minimal sleep we hit the road rather late for Nashville,TN. realizing we wouldn't make it to our original destination on time, plans changed and after calling him a few times, we showed up on our man Curt's doorstep. or course he let us in, he's that kind of a guy. he gave us some burgers and a place to sleep. thank you Curt!
4/14
headed over to writer/producer Chris E.'s house to get to doing what we're in Nashville for, to write and record a hit song with Chris. had some lunch at the local deli then steve, fred and terry stayed at Chris's to begin the hitmaking process. scott, bow and i went on an oil-change mission. we shopped around and then found the right price at Firestone. "Free oil change with application for a Firestone Card". scott filled out the necessary forms, answered 4 probing questions, and oil was (eventually) changed. watched a lot of Animal Planet on the TV in the waiting area. witnessed a live birth of a killer whale. then on the animal docs show they fixed up a pet rat's tail after it was partially ripped off by its owner's kid. we finally got the van back and inexplicably, scott was granted $400 of Firestone credit. his card will arrive in the mail! went to a nearby park recommended by Chris to kill time. a great suggestion indeed as we got to witness some live animal planet stuff when we saw a pretty large spotted owl just off the trail apparently eyeing some prey. we stared in awe for about 10 min. very cool. we got some provisions and headed back to Chris's to get the grill going. the hit song is coming along after scrapping a few initial ideas as we filled ourselves with burgers and dogs. the writers got back at it and the rest of us watched a lot of TV. slept on the plush control room floor.
4/15
more TV and sitting around today. songwriting in progress. we had to take a break for Chris to bring his girlfriend to the airport. with the great park nearby, we opted for a picnic of turkey and mustard sandwiches. went for an even longer hike exploring the area. it's no Mt. Tom but it's cool. went back to Chris's and the basic music for the hit is complete, with lyrics to go. at 8:30 p.m., lyrics were completed and with Chris needing to do his taxes, we got the night off. by coincidence, it just so happens that our boys, the Wayne Mills Band is in town tonight at 12th and Porter. gee, what are we gonna do? we ran into the room and hugs went around and we learned that it's Peso's (Dave, on gtr.), birthday. this can be hazardous when the stuntmen are around. and it was for ol' Peso. we tasted a little of Adam's present of a fine birthday wine, and Peso did some sort of huge shot with steve. it was also nice to see Wayne's wife Carol. a sweetheart. the WMB rocked as they always do, and the night was all Peso's. some choice quotes from the birthday boy: "J.J., I'm really, really drunk. And I have to sell insurance in the morning!". and, "I'm fixin' to finish this beer and smash this here glass." and he did. we eventually said goodbye to Peso, Adam, Trey, Will and Stacy. Wayne the took us to a late night joint called Fiddle and Steel. no fiddles or steels tonight but there was a 14 yr. old kid (son of the keyboardist) pounding the drums like a pro on a rendition of "Play that Funky Music". met many new friends through Wayne and had a good time but eventually had to part ways with our favorite redneck. we love ya bro! back to Chris's and thankfully his housemate Rob was awake at 4 a.m. and could guide us in by phone after a couple wrong turns. went straight to bed not knowing that in 7 hrs. i'd be hitting drums.
when you're used to going to work between 8-10pm, getting up at 10am for an afternoon of rock can be a little tricky. but it being a nice day weather-wise for a change we put our shit in a pile and made it to the Cabbage Patch for our 1st of 2 shows today. the house soundman Ted, decided to augment the tiny PA we were using last night. it seemed to accommodate the 6 piece onslaught better. the problem was a 6 piece onslaught doesn't really go over at noon. smatterings of applause as we got through the 1st set. we had a diligent staff member bringing up a 12-pack per set for the boys which helped them along and of course having Hal and Judy unwaveringly there got us all through the slow beginning. things did seem to pick up greatly with the appearance of Rick H. and his sons Brian and Matt in front of the stage with some of the Hall's Angels in tow. the kids seemed to enjoy the racket the long-haired guys (except one) who are camping in their dad's backyard were making. unfortunately they were escorted a safe distance away by dad as a woman with one of those airbrushed bikini tops on began gyrating atop the picnic table they were sitting at. the booth next to the stage specialized in that bodypainting that looks like a bathing suit and she had it going on with a stars and stripes vibe. patriotic? yes. not really suitable for children, though. definitely suitable for Devo, Lil' Dog, Fridge and Dana. the boys loved her. we played the hits and the sun stayed out and all was well. we packed it up and rested a bit back at the compound, then it was off to show #2 for the day at the Highlander. we set it up and from there details are a little sketchy. i'm writing this on the 12th and honestly am having trouble recalling details from 6 days ago. Bike Week will do this to you! i'm reminded by other people's brains in the group that the Girls from Wild Turkey were in attendance giving away shots of booze that i didn't have. still sketchy anyway. i do remember the appearance of some of our good friends from Raleigh,NC led by our buddy Suzie Guzzi and Ben. our man Ben took us out back and set us straight and even gave us a fine present that couldn't have come at a better time, as we're out of presents. regulars Hal, Judy, Jane and Bob were there of course. and, we were reacquainted with an enthusiastic local fan we met last year. no one remembers her name(incuding Al, Mr. Name Recollector), but she has a distinctive black cast on her right leg and seems to be the drunkest person in the room. she even gave her personal Bud Light bottle opener from her keychain for his "birthday". she got on well with the Wild Turkey Girls, and even battled another drunk woman for the last Wild Turkey T-shirt. a near fracas indeed. another fun night at the Highlander in South Daytona to cap off a long frickin day that i barely remember. could be the presents.
3/7
got up early and had an afternoon like the day before, only with much more of that FL downpour we know and love. then it was time for another Highlander show. another big biker crowd was anchored in there as we set up. Hal and Judy as well as Aunt Jane solo made the scene. they were harassed most of the evening by our lady fan with the ever-present black cast. she had everyone in the crew sign her Stars and Stripes jacket. somewhere in the greater Daytona area is a woman limping around with "J.J. O'Connell" scrawled on her back. that's funny. our old Raleigh pal Suzie Guzzi came out and brought our good friend Lisa, who'd flown in hours earlier to join Ben and the rest of the Raleigh posse. Lisa proceeded to get pics of individual stuntmen moons for the folks back at Sadlack's. sorry folks, you'll just have to see some asses in person! we got a $100 tip from a dude wanting to give a shout out to his table of friends. "For a hundred bucks, the mic is yours, pal.", came the response from steve. his buddies erupted as he mumbled his shout out. they then were treated to their friend leading his new band in a stirring rendition of "Johnny B. Goode". he knew the first line with help from steve and that was about it. he did make it back in for the choruses. he'll be telling the story for years to come. "i was in the band, man!" we wrapped it up and said goodbye to Lisa and Suzie (see you at Sad's). our man Randall donated a bottle of Jaegermeister to the boys to keep the night rolling. it did. we met the crew back at the Hall compound and minutes later Rick's garage was transformed into a "squared circle". Hall's Angels and Stuntmen (mostly bow and fred(!?!)) went over some of their best WWF moves to the delight of onlookers. one word of advice, Rick: don't try a Jimmy Superfly Snuka leap on me. i move out the damn way! things got broken (a chair and possibly Rick's ribs), some blood was spilled (bow), but it was fun to watch. i spent time guarding bikes as combatants came dangerously close at times. i went to bed at some point after this.
3/8
today we get to go to Aunt Jane and Bob's house for another fine BBQ. we did this last year and had a great time stuffing ourselves. this time proved to be no different. Bob manned the gril and turned out bratwurst, burgers and chicken. Aunt Jane did up some chicken as well as a tub of macaroni salad suitable for a crew of 50. actual attendance was in the 30's today but we left no prisoners on the table. looks like another food coma setting in for sure. took a nice nap post-meal in a humungous leather chair (thanks Jane!) and then mingled near the fire awhile. yes, even though it's 80 degrees out, a BBQ needs a fire, right Dana? of course there's plenty of beer at the BBQ as well and we all had our share, especially Chris Hall. more on him later. sluggishly, and i do mean sluggishly, we crawled over to the Highlander for our last show of Daytona Bike Week 2003. seemed more like 3 Weeks. we set it up and some of us ate again(!). the usual suspects Hal, Judy, Jane and Bob made it over after the BBQ. their support of us in Daytona is inspiring, to say the least. another Judy, (terry's mom) made the trip over from the Orlando area to see her boy. she took many digital photos and hopefully some of what she got from tonight's show will be on the website someday. there was plenty to take pics of. old friends from last year and this year's Cabbage Patch shows Jim C. and Stash brought their wives and some friends out to see us off as well. Stash's wife (sorry i forgot your name) is a big fan and does not stop dancing the entire time we're playing. she's great. thanks to Jim and Stash for heading the Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting in the back of the parking lot between sets. after our 2nd set we were beginning to worry that the Hall's Angels had succumbed to the food coma that nearly finished us today and weren't going to show. no sooner than we thought this the distant rumble of bikes we're so used to became not so distant. the entire crew from the Hall compound, on bikes and in cars, rolled in and made their presence known. well, everyone but the beloved Chris Hall. he remained where he was at the end of the BBQ, in the back of Sheila's car passed out. despite bow bow's attempt to rouse him with a point blank blasting of "Reveille" from his trumpet(about 4 inches from Chris's ear), Chris never moved a muscle. it was amazing. you missed a great show Chris, but we love you anyway! the Hall's Angels poured out the energy and we fed off it, even delivering a blistering "money shot". the night ended with Dana leading an a cappella version of Kiss's "Beth". unfortunately, no one could remember the words to the 2nd verse, so we hit the chorus and called a night. hugs and handshakes all around as we said our farewells to the Hall's Angels and Randall and the staff at the Highlander. finally packed it up and hit the road around 3am. we missed everyone even before we hit I-95 south. Bike Week in Daytona is a trip, but we had to put it behind us as we headed to Key West. that's right, Key to tha mutherfuckin' West home boy!
3/9
i gave up the driver's seat at 8am in Key Largo and then sat back to soak in the scenery. we crossed a 7 mile long bridge between 2 Keys. deep blue water for miles around. we finally reached the end of US Route 1 in Key West around 10:30 am and got set up at the "band house". most everyone hit the nap trail but i couldn't sleep as i'm bouncing off the walls. why?, you ask. well, my incredible jet-set brother Brian, with his buttload of frequent flyer miles, got Heidi tix to Key West to meet me here as a Christmas present. what a guy. he does these things despite all the crap his big brother put him through growing up in ME. i love my brother. i haven't seen Heidi in almost 2 months, so you can understand my excitement. luckily the club got us a room at a local hotel in addition to the band house and terry and Tall Girl were gracious enough to let us have it. i checked into the Santa Maria Hotel, located 100 yards from the southernmost point in the US and currently brimming with vacationing Spring Breakers. got cleaned up and went to meet Heidi at the airport. there were some tears and we hugged for about 10 minutes when she got off the plane. all the stress from being stuffed in a van for 7 weeks roaming around the country melted away. we pulled ourselves together and went in search of food for the hungry traveler. we found a raw bar on the water and minutes later we were downing oysters on the half shell and watching 6 ft. long tarpon gliding through the water right below us. we then hurried back to the hotel and that's all you need to know. we finally emerged and went walking around Duvall St. taking in the sights, shopping, and i had a fine cigar, indeed. as we were strolling a car pulled up alongside us and a familiar looking cat in the passenger's seat asked if we knew "where any bad hippie bands were playing tonight" and then the car sped off. it looked like.........nah, it couldn't be. we made it back to the club, the famous Green Parrot Bar on Whitehead St. in time for load in. this place is an open-air joint favored by the locals more than any other bar on the island. we met our new friend Vicki doing the sound and Jim behind the bar, and Tall Girl and Heidi found a spot as we got underway. the enthusiastic crowd of locals and Spring Breakers alike gave it up and we had a blast. the Green Parrot rocks! many locals thanked us for the "change of pace" that we brought to the place. Heidi and i met a nice couple from VA who had been at Bike Week and then just kept going. apparently many bikers do the same thing after Bike Week. they helped Heidi and I fend off a very drunk dude who insisted on leaning on whoever he was speaking to while spraying it instead of saying it. be drunk, just don't spit on me, dude. he was very adamant that we play some "fuckin' Hendrix". he was later removed from the bar. but i digress from the best part of the night. it turns out that the familiar cat in the car earlier was none other than Ed Carroll, a/k/a Eddie Holly of Mother Holly fame. talk about a blast from Noho past! Ed lives up in Key Largo and heard we'd be in his neck of the woods. he brought the boys a bottle of Jack like old times and bellied up to the bar with Heidi and Tall Girl. it was great to see him and we could've played "Downtown" all night for him. he kept everyone within a 10 ft. radius of him lubricated all night, including Heidi. 12 hours on planes and in airports mixed with a few Stoli-O and cranberry cocktails makes for an interesting girlfriend. we also got to meet an old friend of terry's from Taunton, Brian G. (Bamm-Bamm of message board fame), who was vacationing with his wife and parents in the Keys and came out to see us. glad you like the diary, Brian. i told you you'd be in it. Brian's dad used to be terry's dentist. hmmmm. terry has 4 false teeth. connection? you decide. it was truly a great night at the Green Parrot Bar, our first of hopefully many many shows in Key West (we're available for residencies!). as i said, after the day Heidi had, by 4am it was bed time for sure. we called a cab to get her back to the hotel. it never showed. after some confusion of where the van keys were (in steve's pocket the whole time we searched around), i put Heidi in the van and gave another new friend, Bob from Long Island, also waiting for a cab that will never come, a lift back to his hotel. we'll take you up on that dinner the next time we're in the Hamptons, Bob! finally hit the hay around 5:30am, thankful for the next 3 days off.
3/10
day off. in Key West. with my girlfriend. life is good. a lot of what we did is none of your damn business, but here's some highlights: sleeping late; beach; sun; Ernest Hemingway's house (61 cats live there); more sun/beach; shopping on Duvall St.; several margaritas in Mallory Square at sunset (hundreds maybe even thousands of folks congregate every evening in the west-facing square to watch the sunset. along with the endless number of cocktail carts are several street performers, magicians, statue people, etc. the guy that is the center of attention is Dominique the Cat Guy and his Circus Cats. he's a frenchman with a flair for performing. his housecats jump through rings and from one pedestal to another and the finale is a cat named Oscar jumping several feet through a flaming ring. it was hilarious and this guy Dominique is a f'ing character!); more shopping; dinner of filet mignon wrapped in applewood smoked bacon (H had the fish); ice cream dessert and a fine stogie on the walk back to the hotel. all in all it was a good day. didn't even have to use my AK. Heidi and i had a nice day together in near-paradise. never did see any of the boys and terry, Tall Girl and Forbin headed north to her sister's house where we'll meet tomorrow night.
3/11
got up early with Heidi and went downtown to Duvall St. this early in the morning seems to be free of the constant buzzing of Spring Breakers zipping around in packs on rented mopeds. had a fine bloody mary with breakfast at the Crowne Plaza Hotel and of course more shopping. sadly i had to drop Heidi off at the airport after our Cuban sandwich (my favorite) lunch from the deli next to the hotel. it was a tearful goodbye but the upside is we'll be home in 5 days. rounded up the boys at the band house and sitting in traffic on our way out of town i learned of their escapades the day and night before. seems they rented some bicycles and did a tour of Key West on the bike path that circles the island. they indulged in several screwdrivers (bow's idea) and hand-rolled stogies all along the way. they ended up at a gentleman's club ("best one in the whole damn country"-steve) and freddy freedom enjoyed his very first lap dance. he said the girl was exactly like the Bode Broad tattooed on his forearm. he told the story with a huge grin on his face the entire time. sounds like we all had a good time yesterday. we learned over the radio that the traffic off of Key West was at a standstill so to the beach we went. unfortunately as fred, scott and i hit the water, steve noticed some suspicious dudes peering into our van on talking on cell phones. he alerted a nearby vendor of the situation. cops were called and the suspicious dudes were told to beat it. we did the same. arrived in Naples around midnight and after dealing with some confused gate security we invaded Katerina's house (Tall's sister). she graciously got us settled in and then we all crashed hard.
3/12
woke up and immediately went to the backyard of Katerina's place to see this gator she told us about after we got in last night. "don't let Forbin back there" she said. sure enough, i tossed a couple rocks into the pond that's in the middle of the complex and seconds later a 4 foot alligator swam over and crawled partially out of the water. this pond is about 20 feet from Katerina's back door. he was just chillin. couldn't resist a "Croc Hunter" quote. we then packed into the van and went to a Red Sox spring training game up in Ft. Myers. Red Sox vs. Orioles. no, Nomahh didn't play. as luck would have it, a close friend of mine Bob P. and his fiancee Jenn T. are in Ft. Myers as well. they live in ME and Bob coaches baseball at St. Joseph's College in Windham, ME. we went to USM in Portland together and were teammates on the baseball team, housemates in 3 different apartments, and classmates in the Comm. Dept. for 4 years. Jenn is from the same town in ME as me and she's aces in my book. they had tix to the same game so we met in the cheap seats in right field and it was a little reunion. Bob and Jenn are getting married in August and i'm honored to be part of the wedding. we spent most of the game catching up and reminiscing, pausing only on the occasional home run, or to get the damn beer guy's attention. as it turns out, today is Bob's only day and night off while the team is in FL so we parted ways with the boys and Tall, who went back to Katerina's, and we went over to Ft. Myers Beach for sunset drinks and dinner. went back to their hotel and met some of the St. Joe's players. one guy had gotten a tattoo on his arm earlier in the day to commemorate his spring trip to FL. boy, how things change. Bob and i would've ran our asses off for that when we were playing. and we never got to drink on our spring training trips. even if you were of age. it sounds harsh, but that could be a reason why we won a national championship and always smoked St. Joe's when we played them. they were all nice guys though, and i talked some drums with one of them. had a great night with some great friends, it doesn't get better. went to sleep with a pretty healthy sunburn from the Sox game.
3/13
Bob and Jenn dropped me off at Katerina's house and we packed up the van for Oakland Park, FL home of a favorite place on tour, Alligator Alley. we got in and bellied up to the bar for a fabulous meal prepared by the best rock n roll chef we know, Iggy. you need to go to this place people. and get the gumbo! i even tried some of steve's gator tail and it was tasty. met 2 new friends Wade and Tammy and talked some Miami football. it ain't easy being the Dolphins fan traveling with 5 rabid Pats fans. thanks to Wade and Tammy for buying a cd. enjoy. when we got set up, steve found his guitar snapped at a previous spot on the headstock so his axe is done. Iggy hooked him up with his and he eventually sat in with us on mandolin. after the 1st set I was introduced to a man by the name of Early Times.. turns out he is the drummer in the Temptations, as well as playing with James Brown (he's on "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag"), Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Cannonball Adderly, and many more. a legend who's been playing drums for 45 years! i was on cloud nine as he complimented my playing and that he'd been watching me the whole time and liked what he saw. i was fucking speechless. he said he'd be in Boston soon and we made plans to meet up then. he told us stories of recording for Motown and how he met Elvis and the Beatles while he was on tour with Wilson Pickett. it was truly an honor to meet and hang out with him. later on in the show we called Early up to the stage along with club owner Kilmo, who was a member of Blood, Sweat and Tears for a time, as well as being a good friend of Jaco Pastorius, much to bow's delight. they took their spots on the drums and bass respectively, and bow led the supergroup in a blowout cover of "Just My Imagination" by the Temptations. Early is the drummer on the original tune. the Rolling Stones did it later on. it was a showstopper and "wow" was all we could say after that. what a magical moment. i retired the sticks Early used after the show. they'll go right next to my sticks from Doug Tibbles (of the Stone Coyotes) and John Fisher (of Fishbone). we had a great show and Kilmo cooked us up some late night munchies after we helped push start Early's friend Darlene's car out of the parking lot. finally made it back to the hotel around 4am.
3/14
got up and made a beeline for the last stop of the tour. how lucky are we to end the tour at one of the best places we play, the Blue Guitar in Winter Haven,FL? pretty damn lucky I says. i raved about this place last year, with the great people who run the place, the great people who go there and of course a fine Cuban sandwich. we got into the place and ordered some chow. what do you think i got? and some calamari and a salad for good health. we met Spider, father of Chris B. and proprietor of the Blue Guitar. Spider made us feel welcome immediately. despite being really stuffed, we loaded in and then retired to the "band apartment" upstairs for nappy time. some changed strings for the last time for awhile. our new friend Kristen helped us find some stress management and hit the stage well adjusted. our old friend Lance was there helping Chris with the sound, which was great as usual. terry's mom Judy made the trip to Winter Haven to see her boy on his birthday. she had some balloons for the stage next to his amp and we stopped terry's song "Winter in New England" in the middle to sing Happy Birthday to him. we made a couple new friends who turned out to be high rollers. one dude, Mitch was buying drinks for everyone. and I do mean everyone as he bought a round for the entire bar. twice. he dropped $100 on cd's and gave each of us a 20 to sign a copy of the No Depression magazine we're in. he really, really liked us and hooked us up in several ways. he offered steve $500 for his broken guitar (signed by the band). the sentimental value of steve's songwriting partner for so many years prevented the sale. he'll get it fixed. this didn't stop old Mitch, though. he targeted bow's bass and they haggled forever in the band apt. after the show as we looked on from our session with Lance and our old friend Mark. finally the deal was made. $900 for the Aria bass with case. you bet your ass we signed the thing! dated it too. even Mark snuck his name on it! maybe i wasn't supposed to say that. it was amazing to see. a good man named Mitch and his bass guitar signed by 6 yahoos from MA (and 1 from FL). unreal. saw the sun come up and maybe went to bed, i'm not sure. time to go home.
3/15
wrapped up over 2 weeks in FL with an excruciating drive through Georgia. i averaged about 40 mph in that cursed state due to accidents we never saw or construction that wasn't there. i can't explain it. it sucked. after me, scott hall put in 11 hours behind the wheel (thank you Mitch). it was a yeoman's effort. each time we stopped we were surrounded by grumpy Spring Breakers on their way home. overheard a few arguments about who's turn it was to drive. funny stuff
3/16
steve took over in New Jersey and the GW Bridge never looked so good. the Merritt Pkwy took us into CT and then it I-91 to exit 17 in MA. arrived in Easthampton around 11:30am, 24 hours after leaving Winter Haven. Arrow licked me for about 20 min. but my cat Cassius is still pissed at me for leaving. he'll come around. Heidi took the day off and.......you get the picture.
hope you liked the stories from the road. any questions? ask me when you see me.
best,
j.j.
day off at Jody's. mostly recovery and laundry today. a few more Taco Cabana tacos and a fine dinner by chef Bow. some sort of chicken thing with some broccoli and asparagus on the side. yummy! did get to see our old friend Zippy, and Kate came over to hang with us on our last night in San Antonio for awhile. we rented 3 movies and i made it through 1. beddy-bye.
2/20
we ride. 26 hours to Virginia Beach,VA. we left as late as we could, leaving no room for error. a final run to Taco Cabana for the best fast food tacos in the game. again, only a temporary adieu,T.C. you can't keep this 6 man taco eating machine away for long. It started to rain, then downpour on our way out of San Antonio. 16 hours later in Atlanta it finally ended. i'm talking cats and dogs type of rain. hydroplaning type of rain, which we experienced a few times. it was unbelievable. we saw many accidents with many ambulances(even the coroner wagon) but we managed to keep the rubber side down. at least we didn't run out of gas.
2/21
it's Heidi's birthday today so i called her from the road. it's fun trying to figure out where in your last sentence the cell lost signal so when you call back you can pick up the conversation again. technology. did manage to call home and get a cake from the Look Bakery(thanks, Sue!) and some roses(thanks Bob Stacks!) just wish i could be there. we arrived in Virginia Beach, VA at Phil's Grille thinking we were late but it didn't seem to matter. Kelly our waitress and Jason behind the bar set us up with food and drink and we leisurely loaded in. some Valley folks, John and his wife Chris made the show and we caught up on Valley weather news as a bootlegging dude set up his array of gear. hope it sounded good. once again i'm set up in front of a mural with Jerry frickin' Garcia peering over my shoulder. what is it with this guy? it wasn't a big crowd by any means but having John and Chris dancing around in front of us made it worthwhile. we tried the house shot called "tuwakka", or something like that. we ended up yelling it all night. the locals said that it happens all the time when someone tries it for the first time. said goodbye to John and Chris(see you at Harry's), had some more "tuwakka!" and had some of the hotel next door! thanks to all at Phil's Grille for the food and good times. we'll be back.
2/22
left VA Beach and smack dab into a near tornado. rain,(what else) and gale force winds were blowing debris, and us, all over the road. finally made it to Raliegh,NC the home of the best beer/sandwich shop in the U.S. I'm talking Sadlack's y'all. the best people. loaded in and got fed. the John Hill's Delight for me. my usual! met a new friend Jasmine and her 2 little dogs, George and Babette. love getting the dog time in and lo and behold, it's Jasmine's birthday! the whole place sang as the room filled up when we started singing. a bonus is that Tall Girl and Forbin are here with us in NC and again in FL. welcome to the Sadlack's Experience, Tall! the people here sing back to us and double the energy in the room. a foot stompin' good time is what it is, folks. most of the usual suspects were there although i think some were holding out for tomorrow night's acoustic show here. Peter B. from No Depression appeared with 6 copies of the new issue with an 8 page feature on the Drunk Stuntmen, (and a box of mini eclairs, his usual gift). hope you all get to see the article, it's great. we couldn't be more pleased as it will undoubtedly open a few doors for us. one thing though. it's J.J. "O'Connell" instead of "Connell", Peter. he did apologize profusely for the error. it's disappointing but how could i be mad? it happens. in my athletic and musical career i've been A.J., C.J., J.D., O'Donnell, O'Connor, you name it. Peter vowed to correct it on the website and i appreciate that. also at the Sad's show was an old friend of mine from Bangor High, Brett S. it's like seeing family when i see him, either in Charlotte or here in Raleigh where his lovely girlfriend Valerie lives. she made the scene at Sad's as we were packing it up to head to the next show. oh yeah! we're playing the S.P.I.T.T.L.E. festival tonight down the road at our other favorite Raleigh nightspot, the Brewery. S.P.I.T.T.L.E. stands for Southern Plunge Into Trailer Trash Leisure & Entertainment. ha ha. it's great to be honored as the only non-NC band there as well as being the festival headliners! many folks from the Sadlack's show made the mile long trip to the Brewery and added to the crowd watching the great band before us, Big Dixie. a quick hello to the one and only Jac Cain running the sound as usual, and Rusty behind the bar, as usual, and then we hit it. Lutie, arguably our biggest fan in Raleigh, got naked immediately and exchanged wife-beaters with steve onstage before the first song even started. after running home to do the let-the-dog-out thing, Brett and Valerie made it and we dedicated "Panic" to Brett, the other "Mainah" in the Brewery. from that point on details get sketchier and sketchier so i'll cut right to the chase. it was another great night in a long string of great nights, at both places. so much love in Raleigh we can't get enough. a big kiss to all of our friends in Raleigh at the Brewery AND Sadlack's. you folks are the best.
2/23
a short night's sleep felt even shorter as we got up to prepare for the big game today. we beat a stunned, (and apparently short-handed, boo hoo.), Sadlack's softball team last year and Bow's constant trash talking has got them itching for revenge. today is the day for that opportunity. we rallied at Sad's at the said meeting time but due to the previous night's debauchery, the entire Sadlack's team was over an hour late. (we had to give "Punchout Bob", their star player, a ride home from the Brewery last night!). this only fueled the fire growing under the Stuntmen's collective ass. also fueling the fire was the breakfast of peanut butter, jalapenos topped with melted provolone on a bagel washed down with a Bud draft (Coke for me please) we wolfed down while waiting. Tommy, who made said breakfast, was added to the stuntmen squad along with our favorite bartender from the Brewery, Rusty. the team was rounded out by Chris behind the plate. the field was a sponge holding in most of the rain from the day before but clear skies and gales of 40 mph promised to dry things up. maybe. the stunts jumped out to an early lead and really never looked back. Tommy proved to be our MVP with a bona fide day at the plate, but the domination was spread throughout the lineup. terry and scoot were both strong at the plate and nifty in the field and steve wanted me to note one of his best days on the diamond ever, going 3 for 4 with 2 rbi and 2 runs scored. much improved from the last game. Hal and Judy should be proud. but the super-secret mvp(lower case) had to go to freddy freedom and a number of firsts for him. freedom was on base 4 times in a row,(a first), one time reaching first base on a legitimate infield hit(another first), which drove in steve from third for an rbi(first #3)! freddy also had the play of the game with a "Keystone Kops"/"3 Stooges"-type effort on a ball hit to him in right field. he fell on his ass, then on his knees, in the soaked outfield. finally he pounced on the slippery softball like a lineman pouncing on a fumble in football. kind of poetic. freddy made a desperate heave to the cutoff man from his wet knees that traveled about 15 feet, but he got it in. bow made an attempt to back up freddy but fell as well, adding to the Keystone Kops feel of the moment. unfortunately it resulted in bow blowing out a quad muscle. time to get some stuff on video, bow! all in all, the stunt squad could not be stopped. the Sad's team could really only hope to contain us. they didn't. final score: DSM 10, SLX 3 in 7 official innings. time for victory beers and a little rubbing it in. what? we have to play at 5. and it's 5 now? we loaded in with the help of most of the bar while i got sidetracked going toe to toe on MASH trivia with some homeless dude with a tattoo on his face. don't recall your name dude, but the name of Radar's pet guinea pig was.......Babette!! you lose. thankfully, Chris Smith from the band Patty Hurst Shifter opened the show solo, and kicked some serious ass and captivated the room with his great songs. a tough act to follow indeed. but the curveball we had was in the form of acoustic guitars and a stripped down sound that was advertised as the Drunk Stuntmen Acoustic. thanks to Munger for the gtr. for freddy and to Tall Girl and Forbin for bringing terry's acoustic down with them. it was a magical show just like the night before and the rest of the usual suspects who were absent last night made it out tonight. after NASCAR of course. terry brought some to tears as he played a tender song for Tall. could've made some $$ on kleenex! the whole bar got to say HI to Heidi when she called as we began the 3rd set.("I love you too." AWWWWWW went around the room). we encored with the old standard "My Friend Al Likes to Eat Midgets", closed the place, and somehow made it back to the hotel with less stuntmen than when we left that morning.
2/24
10 min. after 12 noon(check out time), Jeremy at the front desk informed me that i would be arrested for trespassing if i didn't leave immediately. good morning to you too, sir! i told him that i wasn't trying to break the law, i just wanted a shower and the cops could join me if they felt dirty. johnny law never showed and i got my shower. we headed to Sad's and found scott, who had lost his beard. our man Chris S. whipped us up another batch of p.b./jap./prov. on a bagel, adding bacon to the mix this time to really mess us up. never imagined i would eat something like this but i did. with the quickness! we then went to our good friend Lisa's for naps and t.v. we gotta rest up for the pinnacle of the monday night Raleigh scene. yes it's time for Bingo at Sadlack's. renamed "Drunk Stuntmen Bingo" tonight. the famous Jac Cain calls the Bingo and prizes are awarded to the winner's of each game. tonight the prizes have a heavy porn influence. Jac also makes the rules of Bingo night and the rules change as he gets drunker. breaking the rules means you put a dollar in the tip jar. yelling "bingo" without actually having it=a dollar in the tip jar. terry dropped about 10 bucks breaking this one. yelling at someone to put their dollar in the tip jar gets you a dollar fine, in the tip jar. it's Bingo gone horribly right for sure. several rounds of the various games of Bingo( Traditional, Speed, Turbo, X, Rim Job, Simon Says, Picture Frame) combined with several rounds of beers and eventually it just becomes Naked Bingo. no kidding. people at the intersection in from of Sad's were treated to a little skin tonight. this eventually leads to some wrestling and no sooner do you think it and Jac and Tall Girl get into it, playfully dragging each other to the floor. then playfully searching for Jac's earring that was inadvertently ripped from his ear in the melee. beer and blood on the floor. it's Sadlack's allright. we love this place and the people that come with it!! i tell folks all the time how they should go do this, or stop and see that when they're on the road, but if you're reading this and you ever happen to be in Raliegh,NC and you don't go to Sadlack's on Hillsborough St. and tell them the Drunk Stuntmen sent you, you're no friend of mine.
2/25
woke up at Lisa's feeling bruised and battered. it's called a hangover, which thankfully doesn't happen to me often. but when it does, it's a motherfucker. we were going to head to FL today but only getting up at 4pm coupled with a 10 plus hour ride ahead forced us to reconsider. we reconsidered over sandwiches and a little hair o' the dog at Sad's. by now people are saying things to us like"You guys ain't left yet?", and "Still here,huh?". our man Ronnie says, "We look forward to y'all gettin' here and we look forward to y'all leavin' too." we're now a fivesome as terry has gone on to FL with Tall and Forbin. while at Sad's we found out that terry had told scott that he had broken his toe and that it was scott who did it. no one, including scott, remembers this happening last night. and we learned that our friend Melanie had fallen and bumped her head while leaving last night. injury count is up to 3 now including Jac's nasty looking earlobe with some measly medical tape holding it together. havoc has been properly wreaked. Lisa and Jac graciously put us up again and i went to sleep dreaming of 80 degree temps and the beach.
2/26
got on the road around noon and finally got the hell out of Raleigh the place seems to kick our asses a bit. we'll be back in the spring. made our 1st and only Huddle House stop of the tour. Huddle House has biscuits, Waffle House don't. 9 hours later we were in FL and so began 2 1/2 weeks in the Sunshine State. arrived at scott's cousin Rick's house, the Hall Compound, to find Rick, Devo, Fridge, Dana, Chris and Sheila hanging out. the Hall Compound is the official Daytona Bike Week Headquarters of the Hall's Angels, our nickname for the crew of friends that come from different parts of MA and FL to stay with Rick and attend Bike Week festivities. we got tent city set up and then stayed up late catching up. Bike Week hasn't even officially started yet. look out.
thankfully a day off. our 2nd of 2 days off in Daytona. the sun is actually out but last night dictates it will be a slow day for J.J. with lots of water! got some laundry done and freddy and I dipped our toes in the Atlantic at New Smyrna Beach. finally got some healthy food in us back at the compound with fine salads made by scott and bow. we eat well on the road. i'm saying it again. took it easy for the rest of the night as we have to make the rock at noon(!) tomorrow.
day off. steve went off for a day with his folks and we did our best lounging in the hot and humid FL weather. a couple of hard showers helped to steam things up. watched Spider Man on dvd and ate "pasghetti and meatballs". thanks Sheila! so tired from the night before that i hit the hay at 9pm after the Simpsons, waking briefly at 2:30am for rumbling bikes. more sleep.
3/3
temp. has dropped at least 25 degrees with an ice cold rain accompaniment conducive to sleeping late, and, a mid-afternoon nap. went to get our grub on at the Sea Harvest, our favorite local seafood joint. they pile a heap of fried silver snapper on 2 hamburger buns and there's enough fish between the bread to make 3 or 4 sandwiches. we like this place. with loads of tartar sauce. took a drive into Daytona for a Krispy Kreme run. lucked out with a brightly lit "Hot Doughnuts Now" sign and let a few glazed melt in our mouths. (too descriptive?). we then checked out the grounds at Daytona International Speedway. rain sort of dampened the mood so we got tight at the compound and then headed to the world famous Cabbage Patch. an institution of Bike Week. we loaded onto a soaked stage(we're playing outside on the main stage) and the rain never let up. terry was literally "singing in the rain" all night. we started with a couple numbers to warm up the place, then gave way to the real entertainment. yes, it's time for the Miss Cabbage Patch Contest!! 100+ guys straining to get a shot of a hot body with their cameras is a funny scene. the winner had about 100 or so autographs from some of the patrons all over her body. all over. we got back up for a couple more tunes and then it was time for the Wet T-Shirt Contest. a little unnecessary as everyone/everthing was soaked from the constant rain anyway. we ended up being the background music for the contest. for real! except for steve, getting it all on bow's camcorder. we played a blues thing in A for about 30 min. and watched a girl named Blessing take first prize. it was yet another first for us. from there, what could we do? we played the hits (money shot included) and took a few requests. one $20 tip got a lucky fan a D.S. version of "Man of Constant Sorrow". it was worse than our rendition of "Pink Houses" we did in Steamboat Springs, CO at the Tugboat, (with Mellencamp's cousin). but it went over nevertheless. we brought our new friend and vendor Brian up to the stage after he promised us sausage grinders the next day if we let him sing "Johnny B. Goode". how could we turn him down? he actually ripped it up too. a fine job! 2 very drunk dudes, the "Drunkest Guys in the Bar" winners, danced around throughout our last set in the 6 inch deep puddle(pond) that had formed in front of the stage. at times the dance seemed interpretive, or maybe not. it was f'ing funny though! we loaded into the van around 4am completely soaked and a little shell-shocked by our late night Cabbage Patch experience. got back to the compound to find everyone but "Yellowjacket" grandma out for the night. i was told a full length interview of her by closet Barbara Walters (steve) is in the editing stages.
3/4
had a real bad morning filled with stupidity. mine. ended up sleeping right up until it was time to go back to the Cabbage Patch. today we play a little earlier than last night's 10pm-2am deal. we're on from 5-9 with a break at 8pm for the "Ugly Ole Man Contest" i'm not making this stuff up. we got there and went straight to our man Brian's sausage trailer. took him up on his fine offer the night before and had breakfast. with onions and peppers of course. we loaded in right before the rain did and played a set. Hal and Judy looked on as we backed the 6 ugly old men trying to win $50. we played an instrumental version of "Cocaine" with steve on camera again which at times had a strange reggae feel. i don't know how that happened. and i don't recall which old man was the ugliest. they all were ugly, really. but it was hilarious. we met a woman named Amazon who challenged steve to a match the next day. Amazon is a pro coleslaw wrestler. one of the most feared and dangerous coleslaw wrestlers around. she's been banned from the sport(?) before, folks. she made a 7 foot tall "T" with steve lying across her shoulders and gave him a little "airplane spin". steve respectfully declined the match. very wise it turned out as she injured a male combatant the next day in the coleslaw pit. our t-shirt man from Biketoberfest, Denny from XTREEMTEEZ, made another contribution to the band. it's funny seeing terry and steve roaming the stage with "Monster Cock" shirts with a huge rooster on it. so i got one too. we got back to the compound and then headed over to Pub 44 to meet up with the crew. a near fracas ensued as there was bad blood from MA rearing its head in FL. tense moments were handled well by the bouncers and we ended up back at the compound up all night again.
had an early afternoon breakfast at the local greasy spoon, Biscuits and Gravy. the name is their specialty. a hearty b-fast with chunks of sausage in the gravy over 2 fat biscuits. i ate the whole thing. i was then informed of the ingredients of the gravy. lard, flour, butter and lots of it. looks like it's my 1 trip to B+G during Bike Week. trying to watch the weight. got back to the compound in time to see 14 bikes rumble out for a day's riding. the non-bike having stuntmen took turns watching the Willie and C.J. with their colorful grandma Bridgett. Pok-e-Mon, fire starting and preservation, etc. basic stuff. when it was showtime, there was a car parked in the driveway blocking our van. its owner was on the back of a motorcycle somewhere in the greater Daytona area. the car was there all day; we dealt with it when we had to. thankfully the gear was at the Highlander from the night before, so we split up with some in Rick's pickup and the rest in Sheila's brother Tom's car. away we sped to the club. so ended part 1 of our transportation saga of the night. we had an easy set up and some award winning ("of course") NE clam chowder. in addition to a good crowd in place, Hal, Judy, Jane and Bob were front and to the right for Bike Week night #2. we were also graced with a loud "Masshole" contingent led by bow's Aunt Maureen and Gary. she graced bow with a "cleavage shot" from a scantily clad girl pushing test tube shots of Kamikaze's and Sex on the Beach's with some kind of rum in it. Aunt Maureen and some guy from somewhere bought the band a couple rounds of test tubes. no cleavage though. i would've drank mine if there were cleavage involved, i guess. scott got my Sex on the Beach. after the last set, we sent scott back to the compound to retrieve the van and hung out with our man Randall at the Highlander waiting for scott's return. 2 1/2 hours later and still no sign of scott. Randall informed the Highlander sec. guard that we'd be here killing time (beers) until our van showed up. then he went home. we did some things to pass the time and then some more things and still no scott. tried a wrong number trying to call Rick's. sorry to the Rick Hall's in New Smyrna, FL for their 3 am wake up call! soon after, the van with scott at the helm pulled into the lot and we got the hell out of there. seems scott had more of a time than we did. Rick's truck ran out gas on the way back and scott had spent some time begging gas station patrons for gas $$. would you give that wacko some $$ at the local gas n sip? (kidding, scott). well someone did and thanks to that kind soul(s) for the donation. we finally got back to the safety of the compound and crashed out. painfully drifted off to the strains of the latest Kid Rock album on infinite repeat in the cd player.
a little laundry, a whole lotta rain. soaked, even. we have our first show of 2003 Daytona Bike Week, and it pours all day. tent city is awash save for a 6 in. high fire ant mound. easily a million of the suckers looking for dry ground or a nearby tent. maybe freddy's. but we found out that rain soaked wood will indeed burn with enough gas on it. thanks to Dana! we're rejoined by terry (sans broken toe), as Tall Girl and Forbin dropped him off before the show. we'll see them again on wed. tonight we play at our favorite place the Highlander in S. Daytona, FL. we got there early and our man Randall set us up with chow. with an advisement to keep it soft due to nasty neighbors, we got it going with the quiet stuff. 2 sets of that crap went on and luckily we had Hal and Judy as well as scott's aunt Jane and Bob in the audience to soften the blow. then the cavalry came. the full Hall's Angels crew (now with the addition of Sean, Hootie, Brandon and the Captain. they gutted a school bus and carted 6 bikes down from MA. the "cool" bus.), rumbled in and breathed life into the place. a lot of these guys are MA Firefighters and know how to have a good time. we're proud to know them. they saved what was a dismal first night of Bike Week. we all went to Gilley's Pub 44 near Rick's for nightcaps.
day off at Rick's. hung out most of the day as the compound takes shape. Rick, Dana and Devo spent the day installing the highly anticipated outdoor showers. it took 4 stuntmen almost as long to assemble a cheap gazebo with 1 page of instructions. the Hall's Angels' compound grew a little more with the arrival of Chuck, Shannon, Carla, T.T., Brandon and Kim. we're 18 strong here with more troops on the way in a school bus. for real. porta-johns come tomorrow, with luck.
we got out of Ukiah and decided to take Dave D.'s advice of a drive down the coast of CA on rte. 1. 5 twisty, steep, switchbacked, ocean viewing hours later(it was truly an awesome drive with 200 foot cliffs down to the water) we reached Fairfax,CA home of Peri's Bar(or Peri's Silver Dollar as we thought it was called). new friend Yotom(sp? it sounded like "yo, tom")greeted us from behind the bar and made us feel welcome. we got set up up on the tiny stage and ate some pizza and even some ice cream. Fairfax is a cool little town just north of S.F. and apparently many musicians live here. Santana, Sammy Hagar, and most of the G. Dead have houses here. didn't meet any of them, but did enjoy meeting Buddy Owen, original member of the Vanilla Fudge and all-around great guy. thanks for working the tip jar for us! he even plays in a band with the E Street Band's original drummer, Ernest "Boom" Carter, to the delight of t-bone our big Bruce fan. met a new fan, Smilin' Tom, who bought up the entire Drunk Stuntmen catalog after the first set and had us sign all 3 discs. now that's cool! thanks a lot. our old pal Emily W. appeared with some new friends in tow. some of the folks there had connections back east and had heard songs from our cd, "More Bad News", on the local radio station, especially "Clown to Be". to have people singing the words back to you is pretty neat indeed. Emily hooked us up with a place to stay with friends in the area(Chris, Scott, Jake and Mako the dog). As we were getting our shit out of the van there was an incredible sound of screeching tires and metal crunching into wood as a car flew off the road above us and came to rest about 40 ft. away in the backyard of the house we parked in front of. we were in shock as we called up to the sounds of survivors. we listened to someone reply, "I'm O.K." and soon after the cops and rescue folks were on scene. according to Jake, people lose control and T-bone other cars there a lot as it is a treacherous road cut into the side of a hill. a little excitement before hitting the floor.
2/14
mf'n Valentine's Day away from my Valentine. i made sure to call Heidi last night at midnight eastern time to be sure. i miss her terribly. made the short but again, incredibly scenic drive from Fairfax to Bolinas,CA. the entire time we've been in CA and have told someone we were playing in Bolinas they would smile slyly and tell us we'd "have a great time there, heh heh." the town's got character. a quiet ocean town where the locals rip down any signs the state puts up directing folks to their beloved hippie town. we're playing a place called Smiley's, Est. 1851. the place was even open during prohibition! how's that for character? not a sign of Johnny Law to be found. we got there early and decided to sample the local Bloody Mary(breakfast). people were puffing in broad daylight on the benches in front of the bar. there was a serious air of laidbackness going on here. it's going to be an interesting night! took a nice long walk on the beach thinking of Heidi. got some major dog time in with the seemingly endless number of dogs in Bolinas. everyone has one with them. we're staying in the suite above the bar tonight so it was eat, then nappy time. was a little groggy setting up the gear but the locals are starting to come out and they look restless. Albie and Amber behind the bar got the juices flowing for the masses and there were many couples in the place on a romantic weekend. (made me miss Heidi a little more). well the crowd was, in a word, diverse. patron of the night had to be a woman(maybe in her 80's?) named Verona who told us that she had been bed-ridden for the past 2 1/2 years and tonight was her first night out with her husband. they only stopped dancing once so she could peel off her restricting panty hose and keep groovin'commando-style. she really was a treat. the lovely Constance made the 40 min. trip from S.F. and had more fun than she expected. our friend Leslie, who made it to our Make Out Room show in S.F., also came to Smiley's with some local friends. we'll see you back in Noho, Leslie. we played 3 sets, had one hell of a time and then brought the party upstairs. finally saw a police presence at 3am from the balcony. he was just turning around. scotty played song after song on the piano in the suite and we all sang at the top of our lungs(the Drunken Asses from SNL!). nobody said boo to us. no cops means no curfew. up late again.
2/15
hard time getting up today. got a much-needed coffee and a morning stroll on the beach. bumped into many of the people i witnessed being crazy last night, but i don't think they recognize me without my drum kit. probably couldn't talk to them coherently anyway. more dog time(Arrow would love it here), and got back in time to be evicted from the suite by housekeeping. downstairs for more Bloody-sampling. ran into our man from Fairfax Jake, and Mako the dog, as he was in town to do some surfing. running into us at a bar will get you sidetracked! he told me there are more shark atacks in this section of CA than anywhere else in the U.S. surf's up! had to drag ourselves out of Smiley's. big thanks to Don Deane, the owner, and everyone we met at the legendary Smiley's for a fantastic time. we'll be back. drove along the magnificent coastline to the town of Mill Valley, home to MASH character B.J. Honeycutt, and home to another In and Out burger. gorged, we headed north in a fucking serious downpour to the town of Willits,CA and the Shenachie Pub. kind of hard to find, but warm and welcoming when you do. it's small place(read: intimate)so we stripped it down to accomodate the room. we were quite well recieved. Pete behind the bar and Poohbah(no kidding?) at the door rolled out the red carpet for us. thank you both. i learned a bit about the Waldorf School from some new friends. sold a bunch of cd's and siged all of them, which seems to happen alot lately. we had a great time at the Shenachie Pub but it was our last gig before 5 travel days/days off. we high tailed it out of there and headed south.
2/16
11 hours and not much sleep later we were in the Joshua Tree National Park. stopped by the Joshua Tree Inn where Gram Parsons died and Emmylou Harris was a regular. we saw Gram's room and it had lots of memorabila in it as well as dozens of guitar picks left behind by visitors. it was a little eerie. wanted to stay there for the night but the price was too steep. so we stayed at the place across the street from the place where Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris used to hang. drove into the Park and saw where G.P.'s manager had cremated him(it was on VH1's "Rock's 100 Most Shocking Moments). a conctrete slab read "Gram Safe At Home" and there were many inscriptions in the rocks from fans. it was kind of spritual. saw some amazing rock formations and serious vistas on our way back to Joshua Tree. we stopped for provisions at the local grocery store and ran into a local character named Coyote. he pegged us for a band right away when he saw us and laughed hard when we told him the band name. thanks for the local loco, dude. back to hotel to enjoy his gift and bust a gut laughing at the Simpson's 300th episode.
2/17
today(and tonight, and some of tomorrow) we drive to San Antonio,TX and the home of our close friend and part-time benefactor, Jody W. made our way back through Joshua Tree National Park and hit I-10 E. so far on tour we've been listening ot the radio or cassettes in the van and it's getting a little tired. recently we bought an adapter so we can play cd's in freddy's player he brought and finally listen to some new music. as if to signal misfortune ahead, freddy's cd player didn't work. we tried everything, even the "smack it around" method. nothing. back to the radio or a tape we've heard 10 times already. (shitty event #1 behind us). undaunted we searched our handy In and Out Burger location finder and found our destination outside of Phoenix,AZ. at 5:30 pm MST we said a bittersweet farewell to the beloved "Double Double" burger (w/onions) and the thick chocolate shake; the side of jalapeno peppers and the super-fresh fries. we even got the lowdown on their secret menu. i ain't sayin' a word. trust, this is only a temporary adieu. we'll be back In and Out Burger, we know how to find you. 7 uneventful hours later...
2/18
i get my shift behind the wheel in El Paso,TX. we're almost in San Antonio, right? think again, mr. 585 miles to go! steve inadvertently filled the gas tank only 3/4 full, which we realized after getting underway again. what the hell, gas stations are everywhere. i mean, they get oil from the damn ground here. it was 5 am in desolate Bakersfield,TX when i got off the highway with fumes going to the engine. we pulled up to the obviously closed gas station but salvation was in the "24 hour credit card service" sign. or was it? not one card we tried worked. we waited 2 hours to be able to "Please See Attendant" as the pump maniacally flashed back at us. got the gas. back on the road. (shitty event #2 behind us). approx. 41 min. later i noticed a little too late that a state trooper was approaching me on the westbound side of I-10. he was slowing down rapidly and lights went on. you can see where this is going. 95 in a 75 mph zone. OUCH! guilty as charged. i get to call the local Justice of the Peace(for real) to get the financial damage. Officer Baker asked me the name of the band. he didn't laugh too much when i told him. i laughed when he asked if there was any Anthrax in the van. resisting a joke about that terrible band i chuckled "no". thankfully he didn't search us. i don't know what i'd do without my AK-47. angrily drove the rest of the way to Jody's and pretty much crashed. Hard. stayed good and motionless a solid 9 hrs. only moving to throw down a couple tacos from our other favorite place to eat in the southwest, Taco Cabana. our good friend Kate came over and we waited for Jody to get home. he was taking us to "Chachos". Taco Cabana on steroids, as Jody put it. this better be good. it was. we got there around 11:30(it's tues.) and the place was packed. a live band was in the corner pumping out the hits("Brick House", etc.). Jody did the food ordering as he's been there before. we took care of the drinks. margaritas and don't stop making them! we drank them out of the rocks margaritas and had to move over to frozen ones. there was a minor melee when the food hit the table and i had one of everything. we had a veritable blast. the place is open 24hrs. a day. next time we go at 4am! got some movies and went back to Jody's very full and a little tipsy.
1/28
steve went in town to Music Row to meet and greet and we lounged at Curt's. got to the Exit Inn in Nashville and got the low down on the gear sharing thing from our man Slade, the stage mgr. i like not having to shlep my gear in every once in awhile. many acts tonight, so sharing the kit is obligatory. the club is a big place with a big stage and great people working there. Billy Block has his Western Beat radio show there every tues. unfortunately, Billy wasn't there for like the 1st time in the history of the show, but his wife Jill made us feel quite welcome. the show's guest host, Daniel Tashian(son of Barry Tashian, who played with Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris) was an engaging fellow and a fellow drummer(he played a bit with the artist before us, Clare Burson). they run the show quite well and it is a favorite for the bigwigs to come check out new talent. thanks to steve's shmoozing, there was no shortage of bigwigs there when we hit the stage. oh boy. we really played well and the honchos dug our set as well. after the show we went to the bar next door with Bob(of Major Bob Productions. he discovered Garth Brooks),Scott H. and Chris E., all of them fellow drummers and movers and shakers in Nashville. thanks for the Guiness, Bob! we then headed downtown to the studios of CMT where our man Curt B. programs the videos(you can blame him!). he gave us the grand tour and we pulled as many shenanigans as we could without getting him fired. bow got it on tape but we can't release this "Stunts at CMT" tape for 2 yrs. we promised Curt. we swerved our way back to Curt's to watch bow's taping of the night's proceedings. many laughs, then sleep.
1/29
today, we ride. it's off to CO. 19 hours from Nashville,TN to Keystone,CO according to MapQuest. put in 7 behind the wheel and stopped at King Tut's Truck Stop in Lake Egypt,IL. for some corn nuts, my new favorite road snack. i recommend the chile picante or the taco flavored. finally got some zzzz's after seeing the Arch in St. Louis,MO. it's the Gateway to the West you know.
1/30
arrived in Keystone, CO at the GOAT(soup and whiskey) a little early and dizzy from the altitude. i got winded just eating lunch! our hotel rooms were right next door at the Keystone Resort so we took full advantage. loaded into the GOAT and checked in. gee, there's a hot tub 15 ft. from our room with a full view of the ski area. guess what i did? soaked my ass and then took a nap. we got things rolling at the club and it was as fun as the first time we played the GOAT. 3 sets of the rock and then it's party time. we stayed there until the wee hrs. but the "one bartender tells us to leave while the other bartender tells us to stay" confused the hell out of me. back to the hotel for a tub.
1/31
had a nice breakfast at the GOAT and then roamed the ski area watching people fall down on the slopes. what's funnier is watching them scramble for their scattered stuff as it heads down the mtn. ended up doing what i do best at a ski resort, sitting at the bar. my new friend Keller at the Last Lift Bar served up some fine Bloody Marys and he even got me to try a tequila/brandy Bloody Mary. interesting and not at all bad. another new experience! met up with the boys for lunch at the Goat(many thanks to Scott the owner and all who work there for the great grub and GOAT swag. makes all that sucking wind onstage worth it!). thanks also to our new friend Paul, who owns the liquor store across from the GOAT. he bought a cd the night before, broke it while trying to open it, then gave the boys a bottle of Jack Daniels when we replaced the cd. "Take it from our drummer Puff. Being good, it gets you stuff."-Faith No More
hated to leave, but it's off to Nederland,CO and NedMex. you guessed it, NedMex is the mexican restaurant in teeny tiny Nederland. i guess Crosby, Stills, Nash and even Young all lived here at one time. did some walking around and then plopped down for a fine dinner of burritos. frickin'delicious!! the food alone was worth the trip. but the best part of the night was my cousin Andy(of drunkstuntmen.com message board fame), making the show after driving down from Cheyenne where he's stationed. there's no real way to describe how great it is to see family when you're on the road. it's just great! andy and i got to catch up on all the family gossip, etc. and i was really psyched to see him. played some tunes for the sparse, yet diverse NedMex crowd. kind of a weird night. got to meet Kari, a friend of our pals Mutt and Ruby. finally got the invitation to stay at Matt the bartender's place and after a slightly harrowing high speed ride(Matt seems to really know these roads), we settled in and stayed up late regalling Matt with funny stories from the road. many thanks to him for the accomodations!
2/1
woke to the rumble of a 2 mile long train going by. the primary railway through the Rockies runs about 200 yds. from Matt's place. damn thing went on forever. we got our shit together, did the "Hi nice to meet you, thanks for letting us stay at your place" thing with one of Matt's housemates, and hit the road for Colorado Springs,CO home of the Utopia Cafe.(i see hippies in my future). turns out the hippie factor was low here. cafe owner Lee and his lovely bartender Johanna(a new englandah) made us feel very welcome. met 2 new friends, Bill and Diana, who had read about us in the paper(nice work Al Bones!)and decided to check us out. hope they enjoy the cd. our old buddy Paul from the GOAT show (and J.D. donation) even made the show after he couldn't get into the Stones in Denver. what really made the night was the large group of kids(it was an 18+ show) that came out and seriously got down. we even hacked through "Sweet Home Alabama", (a first for us) at their request and it wasn't too bad either. their energy was infectious and much needed, as were their merch purchases. thanks to all. we really had a great time at the Utopia Cafe and afterwards we ended up at Lee's place being debaucherous and watch some of bow's tour footage and a screening of Happy Gilmore.
2/2
Groundhog Day. a favorite Bill Murray vehicle. breakfast by scott hall and a viewing of The Rock on Lee's stadium quality entertainment system. bong rattling bass! we hit the road north and it seems our warm weather streak in CO is coming to an end. it was blizzard conditions all the way to Boulder,CO and the Mountain Sun Brewery. sloshed the gear inside and had a fantastic meal-hippies can mf'n cook! the show started off quiet at the club's request and it sucked. but the blood got moving and the volume got up to where it should be in no time and by the end the room was ours. some dude brought in some of the most sophisicated recording gear i've ever seen to bootleg a show. wonder how it came out. despite the weather some good, kind friends made the show with presents for J.J. i love presents! thanks to Kari and her friend(can't remember her name-sorry) as well as our man Matt from NedMex for the "stress management". a good friend of Terry's, Tony Z. braved the elements and made it out to the show to see us for the first time. we partied with him the last time we were in the area but we didn't have a show. it was great to see him and he really enjoyed the show. he invited us back to his place and after a grueling ride we settled in for a long night. got some dog time in with Chino, his dog and passed the gtr. around all night. Tony has a funny songwriting style, actually quite hilarious. saw the sun come up and stay up and i think i slept, but i'm not sure.
2/3
a frickin' day off for the love of Pete! recovery, recovery, sweet recovery! did some laundry, ate a fine kielbasa soup prepared by freddy under supervision by scotty and a great salad from bow. watched Tony Z. do the sports on tv at 6:22 and 10:22pm. i've known a few sportscasters in my time playing baseball in high school and college and i'll tell you....our man Tony is a pro. a natural. waited for him to get home and then more debauchery ensued. we had a great time, Tony. thanks for the generous hospitality! enjoy the cd's!
well, week 3 done. i'm catching up slowly but surely.
best,
j.j.
2/4
left Tony Z's and went straight into another blizzard on the way to Aspen,CO. blizzard, then clear as a bell, then more blizzard. arrived in Aspen behind a snowplow at a top speed of 30 mph. yuk. more sucking of the wind during load in at the Grottos due to altitude. we've played here before and it was a great show last time. seems we're coming into Aspen a few days after the Winter X Games left Aspen. the people must've been spent from the extremeness of it all because the show tonight wasn't what it was before. to top it off, the flu that had reared its head in scott recently decided it was my turn. felt like passing out during the last set and the feverish chills accompanying a full body ache (my toenails were hurting!) hit me with a vengeance. luckily our good friend Lexie S. and Jenny the dog made the drive up from NM to see us. it seems we have a habit of getting sick right before we see her and Jenny. sorry. we spent a week at her place last year recouperating from road sickness and it looks like we(or at least me) will be needing Lex's TLC again. finally got to the hotel room with hot and cold sweats dictating a shitty night's sleep.
2/5
woke feeling pretty much the same as the night before and not looking forward to the 4 hr. ride to Steamboat Springs,CO. loaded up on various medicines and tried to sleep, but the awesome scenery kept me up. saw a bunch of different critters and went through some towns that define the word "remote". got to Steamboat, home to the famous Tugboat Bar and Grill. loaded in and then went back to the condo where we're staying and tried to nap. too much coughing and shivering. struggled through the show but the folks really came out and got the hell down. we even played "Pink Houses"with a dude who said he was John Mellencamp's cousin. no shit! it was a less than stellar version, but it went over nonetheless. left immediately after the last note for the condo to get some rest. Lexie's talking of hot springs tomorrow and i can't miss that. watched Chris Rock on HBO and busted a gut before going to bed. motherfucker is funny!
2/6
Lexie made us a "guerilla breakfast", which is basically taking the little amount of ingredients you have and feeding 7 with it. got some dog love from Jenny and then Lex, steve, scott, Jenny and i made the commitment to find, and partake in some local hot springs. after a few wrong turns we were on the right track on this steep, twisty, snow-packed road requiring the 4WD. it led us to Strawberry Park Natural Hot Springs. got the rules rundown,(sorry Jenny, no bow-wows allowed) and made our way to the pools. air temp.= 18 degrees. water temp.= 105 degrees. it was bloody heavenly. soothing for the flu-ridden body for sure. soaked in this mtn. oasis for about 45 min. and then-did i mention it was 18 degrees out? i froze my icy hair off getting out! not so soothing for the flu-ridden body. in all it was an amazing place and a first time experience for me. it's all good. a short nap later and it was back to the Tugboat for round 2. this night topped the first. more folks getting down means the dancing doesn't stop no matter what we played. at the end of our last set break "Stairway to Heaven" was playing on the juke. now i'm a huge Zep head. i mean, John Bonham pretty much taught me how to play drums. although it was time to start the last set, i considered it sacriledge to interrupt the most requested song in radio history. i opted instead to play along to it and soon enough the rest of the band joined in and ended up playing the song out, complete with "The Song Remains the Same" ending. i think Lexie got it on bow's camera. our man Paul from Keystone appeared again with some friends in tow, and i even met a guy i played baseball against in college. USM never loses to Colby, dude. despite all the fun being had, my flu reached epic proportions and i could not get warm under 154 layers of clothing. we beat feet back to the condo for a cough and expectoration festival. thank you Robitussin!
2/7
9 hour drive to Cortez,CO today. it's home to Koko's Friendly Pub. saw even more critters(many deer, 2 coyotes, bald eagles) on our way out of Steamboat Springs. you see so much more wildlife in this part of the country compared to the east. i love it. drove by Arches National Park in Utah (the most direct route from Steamboat Springs,CO to Cortez,Co is through Utah. go figure.) and was blown away by the rock formations there. arrived at the aforementioned Koko's and it turns out it is the bar section of a Holiday Inn Express. a first for us. the place did live up to its friendly billing and bar mgr. Brad set us up. thanks for the tacos! we were stuffed into a 10x10 corner but rocked nevertheless, with steve and i battling a major case of frog in the throat. got to meet just about everyone in the room(sorry, names escape me again)and these folks were about as genuine as you get. we all had permagrin as we walked to our rooms. we're thinking of changing our name to Mel and the Magictones and capitalizing of our Holiday Inn (Express) success.
2/8
unbelievable continental b-fast(biscuits and sausage gravy at a continental breakfast?!? unheard of) at the H.I.E. and loaded up on the O.J. as a child, steve's parents had taken him to nearby Mesa Verde National Park and suggested we visit it while we had the chance. so we did. the park was home to the Anasazi people who lived in cliff dwellings you've probably seen on tv or in National Geographic. of course, we took the guided tour led by the cute-as-a-friendship-bracelet Becky the Ranger. the Anasazi created a little town on the side of a cliff and lived there for 75 yrs. that's it. the ruins we toured weren't so ruined, as Becky informed us they were 90% intact. it was like taking a 1400 year step back in time. we even met some dudes from MA on the tour. scott hall can smell a Sox fan from a mile away. on the way in and out of the park we witnessed the devastation several recent fires (caused by severe drought) had on the landscape. it was somewhat depressing to learn from Becky that over 80% of the park had been burned in past 10 years. nevertheless, this place is a must-see for anyone in southwestern CO. we settled in for the drive to Santa Fe,NM and 5 hrs. later we were at the Catamount Bar and Grill. Tammy greeted us with a cheerful hello and a firm handshake. i like that; instant respect points. we played in a big room above the restaurant with a bar and some pool tables and filled with folks looking to cut loose. we provided the avenue for just such an activity. Lexie and Jenny rejoined us after a day off from stunt tour, and we got to see our old friend Janine and met her sister, too. the place was certainly jumping and we sold and signed a few cd's by the 2nd set. after we played a couple Skynyrd tunes there was some guy yelling "Freebird",(of course), and we singled him out for everyone to "laugh at Freebird Guy". there's one at every show. well old Freebird Guy turned out to know scott hall and was in scott's younger brother seth's band back in Westford,MA. pretty goddamn funny. still feeling the lingering sick, we made the short drive back to our NM Recovery Center,(Lexie's house). we ate, i read 27 emails(it's been awhile), went to bed.
2/9
glorious day off at Lexie's. went for a hike with Jenny to the nearby hill and used the cell to call mom. the higher you go the better the reception. did the family calls and got back in time for dinner. Janine came over and we all sat down to a fabulous meal of tofu pad thai with red curry/coconut soup on the side. chef Al, of Amber Waves, Paul+Elizabeth's and Cha Cha Cha fame, outdid himself again. did i mention we eat pretty well on tour? we can get stuffed on 4 bucks at Wendy's, as we are experts in the 99 cent menu. seriously, Wendy's should do a commercial with us! sort of along the lines of Jarred's Subway commercials, except we don't lose weight. we stay the same weight. or maybe Wendy's should give us side jobs as In the Field Quality Control. we know our shit. but screw Wendy's tonight-we got chef Al. got really full. sleepytime.
2/10
brisk morning hike with Jenny brought me back to my hikes with my dog Arrow on Mt. Tom in Easthampton. i miss my boy. spent 4 hours on the computer typing 2 weeks worth of diary entries only to be knocked offline, losing it all. i almost put my fist through a wall. this has now happened to me 3 times in my diary writing history-very pissed off! anyway, we leave tonight for a 19 hour drive to San Francisco.
2/11
we finally get to CA and what do we do? go to In and Out Burger, naturally. went to the first one we came to. just as good as the last time you had it. best fast food burger on the frickin' planet! shakes, too. stuffed, we crossed the Bay Bridge into S.F. and did a little driving tour of the waterfront. ended up in the Haight-Ashbury section of town and walked around. went to my favorite music store in the west, Amoeba Records, and spent too much $$ on cd's. met up with a former Tauntonite, Constance B. and headed to the place we're playing. the Make Out Room is in the Mission, which is the very neighborhood i landed in back in '96 when i came out here with Dieselmeat. many memories of Jimmy Spliff and Phil Crumar, the Shotwell Bar, and the band came flooding back. got back from my stroll down memory lane and met some old friends before we went on. Dan P. from Spouse lives and goes to school out here now, and it was great to see him at the show. we caught up a little and then Noho transplants Dave D. and Janine L. made the scene with some friends in tow and brought some hootin'and hollerin'to the Make Out Room. great to see them as well. thanks to Dave for getting us some promo info. before we hit town. people i met at John and Christine Freitas's wedding made the show as well. Emily W., Christine's sister, came out despite having a hangover from the night before. and Jeff C. and posse came out and offered us a place to stay. the show went well despite being told to turn down a few times. having so many peeps in the house made it so much fun. Constance said we rocked the room like no other before us, and she's a veteran of the Make Out Room. ha! back at Jeff's we did the stay up late thing with new friends Blaise and Brandy. hung on until 6am in time to see terry, Blaise and Brandy doing a synchronized dance rountine akin to the Electric Slide crossed with some of the creepy line dancing we've seen at the Borderline in Tampa,FL. funny and weird.
2/12
up at noon and 1 hour later i'm in the famous Cancun Taqueria on Mission St. eating the best chorizo burrito i've ever had. one bite away from a food coma. headed north over the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. more menories of mtn. biking here in '96. some of the best riding in the world. arrived in Ukiah,CA and did laundry. loaded into the Ukiah Brewing Company, run by kind brothers Sid and Brett. Sara, our waitress got the food portion of the evening underway with some delicious steamed clams. only an indicator of the meal to come. we left the table desperately in need of a nap. but we have a job to do after that kind of meal and we delivered 3 sets and kept the volume down. it's called playing to the room. we sold a bunch of stuff, thanks to Pat at the door, and enjoyed a few pints of Brett's IPA. Sid was putting us up at his place so the party headed there after the show. the gig ended early so we were beginning the party portion of the evening at 12:30am, usually the start of our last set. this feels strange but in a really good way. we had another hazy night and even silently watched the Matrix. many thanks to all the first rate folks at the Ukiah Brewing Company and everyone at the show. truly a great time. if any of you are in wine country CA,(sonoma, napa), go there. it's a mistake not to. tell 'em the Drunk Stuntmen sent you.
1/21
after cleaning ourselves thoroughly,("make sure you brush your teeth and wash your dick"-Daryl F.), we rolled out of Curt's house and called our man Wayne Mills to meet us on Music Row and do some shmoozing. dropped off a cd at Mercury records, (still no Wayne), then met up with No Depression co-editor Grant A. for even more pics for the magazine. he's a great guy and we had fun being goofy. after several rolls of film and a few changes in scenery, Wayne finally showed (he gets lost sometimes), we stopped in to visit a new friend Becca at her office at Major Bob Productions. thanks for the Dr. Pepper! the posse then went across town to Sweetwater's. "best real dive in town", as Grant put it. the place lived up to its billing. a bonus was that it was next to a BBQ joint called Hog Heaven. we dug into the take-out they so kindly delivered to us. some had pulled pork, some had the turkey, but either way the incredible taste silenced us. all were in agreement it was the best BBQ sandwich (white BBQ sauce?!?) any of us had ever eaten. no Wendy's dollar menu today!! oh yeah we played a show, too. (mouth, watering) 12th and Porter is a well-known establishment in nashville with yet another cool soundman, Mike. we were 1st of 3 bands and thanks to steve's calls and our Music Row visit, some bigwigs came to see us. we delivered the high hard one, inside and tight. they could only hope to get out of the way on time. made many more new friends and even saw our old pal Randy, who was at our last Sutler show as well as down in FL at the Flora-Bama last oct. drove back to Curt's with a small caravan late night and stayed up even later. made drunken plans with Wayne to watch the Super Bowl at his house. more on that later.
1/22
got up early for the drive north (god no-not north!) to Indianapols,IN. of course it was bitter frickin' cold and we got numb just loading into the Melody Inn. an old-school bar with real character and run by a cool dude, Dave. thanks for the pizza! we played with Ellen Says No from Seattle. good fun kids with energy. the room was a little tight but made new friends we did. there's nothing like steve leaving the stage and walking outside during "mary in a bathtub" only to do somersaults back into the bar to get the people going! some new friends, Ryan and Teri, brought us back to their apt. building for a night's lodging. we picked through Ryan's cool record collection as Teri cooked up a storm. played "Don't wake the Freddy" except with Scott instead. sorry i passed out before the pasta was served( at 7:30 am), Teri. the boys liked it though.
1/23
woke to Ryan's 2 kittens running all over me and the need for coffee. thankfully before parting ways with Ryan, he took us to Cath, inc. "Indy's Original Coffee" shop. thanks for the free joe and pastries, dude! all fueled up, we made our way to Akron, OH and The Lime Spider. snow and fucking cold is the theme for this part of the tour, although we tour to avoid this type of weather! anyway the Lime Spider is a nice big room with a serious choice of beers. they were showing french pornos from the 1920's. a first for me. openers Rosavelt kicked ass and we knew what we had to do. we did. thanks to Dan for the great sound. Keith, bassist in Rosavelt, offered his place in Cleveland (30 min. north) as a stunt-crash spot. we accepted, and after procuring a case of PBR pounders for the boys, we made it to Keith's in 1 piece with the lovely sisters Pandora and Falcon (no joke) in tow. up late again listening to Gram Parsons, Neil Young=FUN. took an ice cold shower=NO FUN. drifted off to the sounds of Madden Football and a fierce Rosavelt inter-bandmate rivalry.
1/24
up way too early and headed north (WHAT? kill me.). i averaged 85-90 mph through OH and IN into IL as we thought the drive to Wisconsin, yes, that Wisconsin, would be 10+ hrs. we made it in 8. cursed traffic in Chicago slowed us up. arrived at the club-Witz End in Stevens Point,WI-with horn blaring and nearly a doughnut in the parking lot (just a little stir-crazy from the van). nobody saw us but it was hilarious. Paul and his crew welcomed us and served up some local "Point" beer. Stevens Point is home to the U. of Wisconsin at Stevens Point. a school for environ. science as well as paper science. "treehuggers and treecutters", as Paul put it. what? I thought it was funny! the Witz End crowd took little time to warm up to us but all was well in the end. more new friends to add to the list such as Jeff, a local DJ who played us on his show in the week prior to the gig. he even gave away some tix to our show to someone, but then took them away when they couldn't tell him what they had called in to win. love it! new friends Tallula and Amy graciously offered to put us up at the farmhouse they're caretaking and we said YES. off to the 24hr. grocery store for breakfast provisions, then to their place to fall asleep next to a roaring woodstove and snow falling outside. Yankee magazine type stuff.
1/25
had another great bow bow breakfast with fresh eggs from the chickens out back, homeade jelly and toast and bacon and strong coffee and i'm stuffed. went for a nice hike through the Wisconsin woods with Tallula, Steve and Leasha the dog. ahhh nature! hated to leave, but you know the drill. finally going south all the way to Highwood, IL just north of Chicago. stopped off to try some famous Wisconsin cheese curd. basically it's chunks of cheddar. could've used some crackers or salami (weezy and brooklyn i'm looking in your direction). my tummy didn't really like the curd. it made me fall asleep with the directions in my hand and we went way out of our way. we finally made it to the Wooden Nickel, another cool dive run by cool folks. as it turns out, Tallula and 2 of her housemates frequent the place when they're home from school in Stevens Point. she called them and they came down for the rock. "Hi, nice to meet you. Thanks for letting us stay at your place last night." they were cool and brought other cool people to the bar and we all had big fun stunt-style. thanks to Sandra behind the bar for my endless water refills. we left right after to try and make it to Wayne's house for Super Bowl pregame (all 10 hrs of it!)
1/26
scott and steve battled some serious whiteout conditions in IN. i woke to see them riveted on trying to determine where the road was. wisely, i went back to sleep. stocked up with Super snacks in Nolensville, TN where the Wayne Mills compound is and knocked on the door. OOOPS!! turns out Wayne's not home! he got a little tipsy, (ok, a lot tipsy), and forgot to call us with the news he was staying in Tusaloosa until tues. you will never live this down, Mills! apologies to Carol his wife for waking her up. things were getting desperate but again Curt Brewer comes through in the nick of time and saved us. Scott made his now-famous sweet and sour meatballs, Bow served up the snack we took from Sadlack's in Raleigh,NC. peanut butter, jalapenos and provolone on a bagel and heated. we've dubbed this new wonderful sandwich "the Stuntman". you reading this Sadlack's? hint hint. Super Bowl wasn't really a game, but congrats Bucs fans. had some laughs watching the new Jimmy Kimmel show and sunk into deep REM.
1/27
today is a day off. we play the Exit Inn tommorrow night. you can log on to the following websites and hear a simulcast of the show called "Billy Block's Western Beat": http://www.wdvrfm.com , http://wdvx.com , and http://knbtfm.org . we go on at 10pm CST. hope you can check it out. until next time,
j.j.
hello people,
and so it begins....
1/14
we left fully packed from the valley and headed to NYC and the Lakeside Lounge, an intimate setting for the 1st show of tour. keeping volume in mind, it was a quietly intense performance. thanks to Pam W. for draggging some new friends to the show. and old friend of the Murph, Jen W.(who works for Blue Man Group) came to the show, and after a few libations and a delicatessen stop, we retired to her place. one day down, about 62 to go.
1/15
day off in Manhattan. what to do? it only took seconds for us to agree to our friend Molly"s suggestion of a pedicure at her salon, Go Girl. that's right, a pedicure. apologies to those out there who can't believe the stuntmen got pedicures before you did. well, only 4 of us got one, and Jamu and Honey worked their magic on the ol' dogs. after a nice coat of polish was dry, (steve-silver w/red and green stripes, terry-black w/rhinestones, j.j.-blue w/yellow and gold stripes, and freddy got the full red white and blue patriotic treatment), we went in search of a good hot dog. we came upon Crif's on St. Mark's Pl. and stuffed ourselves with meat tubes. time for a beer, i guess. we found a bar only fred could love-"Welcome to the Johnson's"- kind of set up as living room complete with 4th grade pics of the kids. a few hrs. there and it was time for chow. Pam W. met up with us a took us across the street to Festival, a fine Mexican joint with nothing but spanish on the jukebox. a feast ensued, believe it! we checked out a new musician friend Christopher at the Sidewalk Cafe, and then gratefully made it back to Jen W.'s. (i had a nice brisk walk back to Johnson's for my phone that i left there. yay!) many thanks to Jen for the 2 night stay.
1/16
on to the famous Double Door in Charlotte,NC. home of (yes i've said it before) sound man extrodinaire Les Moore. unfortunately 2 inches of snow fell and that is a state of emergency in these parts. the few who were there(including Missy and George behind the bar and Todd at the door) were sufficiently rocked. Bushy's cousin Kyra was there and we love her. back to her digs north of charlotte.
1/17
Kyra lives with a delightful woman named Martha who is a photographer and professor. she has a beautiful house in the woods and really put out the welcome mat for us. had a great bow bow breakfast, a dip in the outdoor hot tub, and a nap by a roaring fire. touring is hard!! hated to leave but duty calls and we headed to Winston-Salem,NC. Rubber Soul was the place and it was a fantastic show. an bonus was that we were sharing the bill with the Cigar Store Indians. we had heard good things about them throughout the south and after we rocked, they rocked. we hope to see them again. made some new friends and one of them, Mark K., was kind enough to take us back to his estate/ranch for a night of debauchery. we stayed up pickin' and a'singin' until the sun came up. it snowed while we were there, though none of it hit the ground. steve even got a spoon fiddle lesson from mark. terry wandered off and tried to ride a pony or something, but you'd better ask him.
1/18
a short ride to.....RALEIGH!!! we love it there. pulled up to The Brewerey and got our needed dose of Jac Cain, the man! openers Need to Breathe were great and nice folks to boot. sorry for the short set. it was out best crowd at the Brewery yet, and with Jac making us sound great and Rusty behind the bar keeping the room lubed up, we can't go wrong. thanks to everyone in the room, it was a great show. got our pictures taken for an article in an upcoming issue of No Depression magazine,(thanks Shawn), and retired to our friend Renee's house for movie night. thanks to Michael and Elliot for letting us crash in your rooms. cool Harry Potter Legos!
1/19
what to do with a hangover in Raleigh? we have experience in this and it was off to Sadlack's Heroes for a John Hill's Delight sandwich and a beer(or water). well, that's what we did. we opened the place and got fed. did and interview for N.D. with Peter B. that was fun. we even got in an honorary round of "Drunk Stuntmen Bingo" with winner-take-all stakes. our man Jac is a man who can call bingo. "simon says" bingo to be precise. the entire bar repeats the call from Jac. it's hilarious! again, we hated to leave but we had a short drive to Carrboro,NC to the Temple Ball/De La Luz performance space. it's relatively new but very well run by our new freind Rick and cohorts. great perks with a massage from the lovely and talented Nikki(sp?), and all u can eat BBQ. thanks for the northern style sauce and Sam Adams beer("in case you guys are homesick"). Peter B. showed with his girlfriend and friends and Shawn for more pics for N.D. Peter requested "Stars" and slow danced with his girl while we played. it was very sweet. at the end of the night we were left with full run of the place as well as a keg of local brew to work on. we laughed our asses off telling road stories to Rick and then fell asleep on the stage surrounded by space heaters.
1/20
woke to some delicious coffee from Rick, got our minds straight for the drive to nashville,TN. a travel day. got to our buddy Curt Brewer's house and pretty much crashed.
1/21
today. laundry, washing of the dirty ass, brushing of the teeth, etc. we play 12th and Porter tonight in Nashville. we're buzzing a little from the news there will be some industry types there to see us and more pics for N.D. off to the mid-north of the country and places we've never played yet. new adventures. check the website for a show near you or someone you know. until next time,
j.j.
your old pal j.j. here enjoying a noisy thunderstorm in hot n humid kissimmee,fl. at t flood's mother's house. thanks for the accommodations, Judy. fall 2002 drunk stuntmen tour kicked off oct. 1st with a drive to charlotte,nc and the famous Double Door. home of the nicest soundman on earth, Les Moore. thanks for the moongels, Les. played a few sets for the folks, including our friends Kyra and Heather, and hit the floor at kyra's with relish(and breakfast).
went to wilmington, nc and stumbled onto the set of dawson's creek. the episode was taking place in boston, which would explain the globe and phoenix newspaper boxes and north end style streetlights they were wheeling around. saw no stars, but got our picture taken in front of a mock "Beacon News" newsstand by a crewmember. played at Bessie's, (once co-owned by the siver screen's Tom Beringer). much Civil War history here as the club was once the Longstreet Pub of Gen. Longstreet fame. (Beringer played Longstreet in the movie, said terry.) did our best to rock the soundman, Ronny, table 11 and the bartender, and then retired to ronny's place for another late night. toured the studio he runs with his son called audio genesis. 1st rate place with a big main room and lots of nice gear. we'll see ronny again, i'm sure.
on to raleigh,nc our home away from home, to play the Brewery. this place is home to another phenomenal soundman and good all around dude in Jack Cain. we have always sounded great there and oops, we did it again. thanks to our good friend Lutie for putting us up. (or putting up with us).
the next day we went west to winston-salem,nc and the Garage. good folks here and we love to play to good folks. sold some stuff and went back to lutie's to prepare for:
Sadlack's! could be our favorite place to place to play. you wanna talk good folks? this place has got the best. great sandwich, cold beer, we win! we were indeed a handful as we made our way to Jen's for a short night's sleep. thank god we had the next day off.
fate would have it that on our day off in raleigh, none other than Angry Johnny and the Killbillies were playing at(where else), Sadlack's. took in their sets and, thanks to a generous bar patron, the stuntmen drink for free tonight! angry and the boys headed off to their next gig and the night ended with a several rounds of rock and roll bingo with the infamous Mr. Cain calling the numbers. "forty five, forty five". hilarious! i happened to notice several people in the bar with SLX softball jerseys and knowing the awesome athletic talent the stuntmen posses(our gloves travel with us), i declared that we could give them a game. a field was reserved in minutes and it was on, as they say.
we secretly prayed for rain as we all got the flu- "a flu too many"- the night before. no such luck. we met the bad guys at the field and got a few players to round out our squad. Sadlack's, fresh from a big win the night before, jumped to an early lead. but t flood opened it wide open with a monstrous double to tie it in the last inning. yours truly followed with a double to bring him in and eventually scored as the hapless drunk stuntmen triumphed 7-5. post game beers back at sadlack's and the losing team, stinging from the loss and looking to save face, said "oh yeah? we'll kick your ass in bowling!" a convoy ensued the few blocks to the local alley(where the bartender slides your can of beer the length of the bar to you. you miss it, you're done.) to make a long story short, they smoked us. by 175 pins to be exact. bowling is a wussy sport, anyway. ha!
stopped in charleston,sc to play at Cumberland's. cool place. played with a band whose name was nearly unpronounceable but the sound was oh so familiar. headed to georgia with the quickness.
arrived at our friend Suzie the librarian's in the a.m. and spent the day rollicking with her 4 dogs. those of you with dogs can understand how big this is for the 3 of us with dogs at home. Suzie's pretty damn cool, too. but we don't have your green bowl! covered in dog saliva and hair,(and loving it), we headed into athens,ga to the Caledonia. played with our buddy "E" and his band; had a drunken evening with much rock. you know it. back to suzie's for more dog time and hearty breakfasts made by, and for, drunk stuntmen.
on to the Somber Reptile in atlanta,ga. the name sort of reflected the vibe of the night, but it was salvaged by the shenanigans pulled by our extremely loyal (and fucked up) fans in hotlanta. Rev. Larry delivered a fine sermon(set) and bodily fluids flowed freely. left for winter haven, fla. around 5am. ouch.
the Blue Guitar in winter haven firmly lodged itself into the top ranks of the best places we've ever played last night. great people run the joint, great patrons and fans of music and one hell of a cuban sandwich. great accommodations in the band apartment, great show show by the stuntmen, great Caesar's ghost i'm watching the sun come up-AGAIN! hooo-weee!
that takes us to today at Judy's house. 2 wacky sounding cranes on the front lawn. football on tv. tomorrow we're off to places we've been in florida and some we haven't. adventure awaits. check the website for tour dates and let some folks know we're coming to a town near them.
until next time, best wishes.
j.j.
we last checked in on the tour(the 99 cent value tour?), at the wayne mills compound outside of nashville. spent a couple nights at SIR rehearsal studio in music city and worked out 5 brand new songs for the people. you will like.
got up extra early on our day of departure for the flora-bama in pensacola, fla. to fix a 3 week old blown radiator hose. but our duct-tape ridden hose wasn't coming out without a fight. 3 hrs.(normally a 1/2 hr. job) and several bleeding hand wounds later, the hose came off(more tour memorabilia), the new one was on-no leaks-and we were on our way south. but ol' sherman wasn't through with us yet. a couple hrs. into alabama the right rear tire disintegrated from under us and scotty valiantly pulled us over. we slapped on our trusty spare and made way for the next exit to get some air in it. well, said trusty spare immediately blew the valve stem off of itself(thanks sherman), and once again the van was on a rim. luckily, the truck stop we were at specialized in tires. after discussion with the mechanic with a nearly unintelligible drawl, trusty spare was fixed and we got ourselves a new, old trusty spare tire. on the road south again. (our only mechanical mishap of the tour).
8 hrs. later we reached the redneck riviera and the famous flora-bama lounge and package store. oh, by the way, it's frickin' HALLOWEEN!! loaded in the gear, ran across the street to the posh beach house("the hacienda" as it's called by the locals) we were staying at, changed into 6 matching red union suits (supplied by mom johnson) and 6 pairs of red satin devil horns, and strolled back across the street to the club like we wore this shit everyday! hilarious! there are pictures! as you can imagine, with a 100 or so people in costumes ranging from smurphette to a couple dressed in full FBI swat team gear, mayhem ensued. i think we even played "Louie, Louie" for a toga-clad bunch of yahoos. i recall saying something like "anyone in a red union suit and NOT drunk is an idiot!". woke up at the hacienda to a glorious sunny morning with dolphins swimming off the dock and steve talking on the cell phone still in his red union suit. bow bow made monte cristo sandwiches!
since we were playing at the flora-bama again that night, we did plenty of lounging around in our lovely accommodations, hitting the beach for a nap as well. with the night before's debauchery still evident, we took the stage for the 1st of 4 sets. it was going a little slow until we pulled out the trump card. the song by the georgia satellites about some "change in my pocket goin' jing a ling a ling" and so on is what i'm talking about folks. when that one starts up, a standoffish(or not) crowd will rise and head to the dance floor pavlovian-style. we refer to this song as the "money shot". hell, i don't even know the real title of the song! i think we played "wild thing" too, but actually that could have been the night before. it was the marine corps. birthday and a strong military presence (in ball gowns and full dress uniforms) was in the room. the 4 sets wrung out of us, we retired to the beach house with most of the flora-bama staff and some of our new friends, rock and tom from the dixie flyers, as well as our old friend gov, whom we met when we were in town in march. gtrs. were a-pickin' until dawn as the songwriters threw down. great way to end the night.
we stayed at the incredible beach house for as long as possible the next day. it was very hard to leave, but not too hard, as we were on to new orleans!! unfortunately, supagroup fell through so we decided to make it a free show in the quarter at el matador. an enthusiastic crowd was on hand to witness the rock, as well as rio, the owner(thanks for the whiskeys!). and as we had known going into new orleans, it truly was an all night affair. the best part of the night was seeing our close friends jody and kate, who had driven in all the way from san antonio, tx. just to see our sorry asses. don't forget you promised me my own cowboy hat, jody. we drank, we laughed, maybe somebody puked, but we certainly did our damage. i broke off from the crew around 5am or so and walked back to the hotel.
got up around 9am with my dad's voice in my head-"get me coffee from cafe du monde". we had the whole day off, so time to take advantage. got the coffee and beignets(french donuts with powdered sugar-yummy). the coffee's got chicory in it, dad's mad for the stuff. with those duties taken care of, the rest of my day was spent with a bloody mary in one hand, and a fat stogie in the other, interrupted by my cell phone as i left gloating messages for friends that got more incoherent as the day wore on. sorry if i filled up anyone's machine. ran into bow and freddy around 4pm and traded stories of their night and our day. decided to stumble back to the hotel but stopped off for 1 more bloody(the spiciest of the day). it became apparent that i really didn't need this bloody(it was #8 on the day) and i gave it to a homeless guy who said he REALLY needed it. eventually rounded up the troops, and after a final meal in the french quarter with jody and kate, we parted the big easy for nashville. sorry to see it go, but a day off in n.o. can kill a man.
the last few days of tour was basically spent in a hotel room, while steve hit music row to press the flesh with publishing companies, management companies and record labels. gots to give him credit for his work as some industry fat cats did come out to see us play. more on that later. walked around downtown nashville awhile on the day of our show. checked out the "sweet adelines" convention at the civic center. for those of you who don't know, the sweet adelines are an international group of female barber-shop quartet singers. it was pretty harmonious. pun intented. we headed to the sutler and prepared ourselves for the last show of the tour. what made it even better was that we were sharing the stage(and gear) with our favorite band, the wayne mills band(waynemillsband.com-check it out.). they put on a great one as usual, and it passed on to our set. love and sadness filled the room as we got to play for such good friends but were sad in knowing that we won't see them for awhile. however, aforementioned fat cats were in attendance despite it being the night of the CMA awards, and were impressed and positive about future relationships and asking many questions. we'll see where that takes us.
after a long goodbye, we settled in for the 17 HOUR drive home. it was fairly uneventful, one false alarm when we thought we were getting pulled over in pa., and we witnessed a crazy hit-and-run accident outside of hartford, but we made it.
played a sort-of-homecoming at the mole's eye in brattleboro, vt. the next night and then played a set at the john and christine frietas wedding reception(congratulations!!) the night after that. today is sun. and it's stay in your p.j.'s all day, day. and i'm here typing away, i must be nuts. go away!
thanks for for all the emails. hope to talk to y'all soon.
til next time,
j.j.
another installment for the road tales is here. we left off leaving winter haven, fla. heading to the velvet elvis in savanah,ga. another great monday night show with enthusiastic cd and t-shirt buyers. thanks to tony the doorman for putting us, (and our new train-hopping friend, carissa from minneapolis) up at his flophouse. the rest of the night is blurry. there was a gun involved, i think.
headed to tallahassee next to play at the beta bar(formerly the cow haus). nice big room, booming system; pleasing folks is what we do in those situations. that was 2 weeks ago and again, details are sketchy. was great to see an old friend steph prince(fsu student),younger sister of my teammate,housmate and classmate at usm, bob prince.
we drove through the night to new smyrna fla, to scott hall's cousin rick's house(home of the "hall's angels")for a 6 night stay. we had an "audition" at the famous cabbage patch to show 'em we belong there for bike week in march. played a free set for the masses preparing for the weekend's festivities(biketoberfest)and then were paid($$ and beer) to play 2 more sets. needless to say we got the gig. this place has 20 to 30 thousand bikers descending on it in march and we're looking forward to rocking each and every one of them during bike week. we pretty much stayed there all night. ran into big phil(a mainah!!) who puts together the behind the barn party in saco,me each year and he left us with a lovely green gift. special thanks to denny from xtreem teez for the "roll a fatty" t-shirts!
on to the highlander in s. daytona. with the hall's angels in full force as well as one of our favorite bartenders from harry's in noho, noreen, in attendance, we really could do no wrong. this is another venue where we will be holding court 3 or 4 nights during bike week this march. 3 blistering sets, and a few boobs later, we stumbled and weaved back to the rick hall compound. great show. too much fun.
next was the borderline in tampa. we had to pass on the coleslaw wrestling at the cabbage patch, but it turned to be an interesting night nevertheless. we had full run of the place. a liitle bit of charlie the manager's homemade punch(grain alcohol!?!) and we were breaking glasses behind the bar, steve was singing songs and tending bar!!, terry passed out on cedar mulch, oh what a night. steve was offering a great deal on hat-stomping as there were many uptight folks there with cowboy hats that looked like they were stored in sanitized protective cases when not worn. "go have sex on yer hat!" was our battle cry. thank god for a soft hotel bed that night.
with the next day we went to scott's aunt jane's house for the best in southern hospitality and bbq. after stuffing ourselves into a food coma, we were treated to a daredevil display by c.j. hall as he jumped prone stuntmen and other willing participants on his bmx bike. we got up to 4 people jumped and called it a night. rick hall even took his ninja over the jump, but no one would lie down in front of him. we're not stupid.
the next day we headed to jacksonville to play jackrabbit's. i finally got to see our close friend rob french play in his band tornado bait and they were kick ass! a blast from northampton past, mal thursday, made an appearance and gave us a gift of salt n vinegar pork rinds(which will be one of the tour's memorabilia we'll be giving away at our cd release/homecoming party at harry's in northampton 11/16/02)as well as some new music for the road. went to an after hours bar with rob and after a few whiskeys he finally reclaimed the crown in our ongoing north vs. south pool tourney(north has been quite dominant in past meetings) i didn't have the heart to tell him that the only time i play pool is when i see him. (rob owns a sports bar we play, box seats in jacksonville, and shoots stick regularly.) i'll get the crown back in march rob!
next day was a day off and we finally got our white asses in the sun and ocean at daytona beach. went to the famous boot hill saloon afterwards for a beer and met an intersting character, frog(named for his frog-like hands).
frog took us to the side courtyard for a session and invited us back to his place. we were all for it until his swastika/ss tattoo was brought to my attention by bow bow. we left post-haste.
on to the side bar in gainesville, fla. home of the u. of florida gators. party school so i'm told. NOT! we played to the bartender, doorman and soundguy and 2 guys who wandered in. left for southern fla. immediately.
to oakland park fla. outside of ft. lauderdale. stayed most of the day at la cele motel, run by some very nice new englanders. the beach was 100 yards away and it was 90 degrees out so can guess what we did before showtime. went to the venue, alligator alley, run by the nicest guy in rock, kilmo. had some of the best gumbo we've ever had, prepared by award winning iggy the cook. and linda the bartender made sure we were never thirsty. this is a great bar-go there! it was our last night in florida for awhile.
a 12 hour drive later and we were in selma,al. for a private party/bbq with our favorite band, the wayne mills band. these guys are a carbon copy of the stuntmen. hell, will, their drummer is my lost twin brother. it was great night with more of that southern hospitality("eat,stuntmen,eat"). the night blurs from there and fortunately woke up in a hotel room, with wayne mills snoring loudly(not so fortunately).
this brings us to our last gig before this entry of road notes, sammy t's in huntsville al. this town is home to u.s. army missile command and a nasa space camp. we didn't go to either of these, but the town seems quite affluent and quaint. we couldn't start our set until we watched alabama beat tennessee in football(roll,tide,roll!). with the room filled with victory, we delivered the goods. wayne had us up during his ripping set to play a few covers, and a good time was had by all. thanks to jen bell for the accomodations and dog time with lilly.
which finally brings us up to date. we're outside of nashville,tn at the wayne and carol mills compound. we're camping by a pond filled with catfish doing their best not to get caught, despite a concerted stuntmen effort. a few relaxing days before playing halloween and the next night at the flora-bama lounge in pensacola, then new orleans at el matador with supagroup on the 2nd and back up here to chill before playing the sutler in nashville with wayne mills band. we hear there will be some label people there so if y'all know anyone in the nashville area, get 'em out to the show(wed. 11/6).
whew! i can't believe you've made it to the end of this novel! thanks. i hope you all are well and thanks for your emails! it's always good to hear from friends on the road. next road notes will be when we get home(11/7).
until then, be well.
best,
j.j.
It was a cold, dark night…last day of February, first day of Tour…we’ve got a brand new van…we’re off and running…we make it to the first show in New Haven—Rudy’s…and we proceed to rock the fuckin’ house and kick some ass…we had a blast, like we usually do at Rudy’s…they serve these things…they call ‘em “Belgian Frites”…mmm…delicious…I call ‘em Frenched Fries…anyway, the show goes great, and I guess it’s about time to wrap it up…it seems early, but the cops are already kicking people out while we’re finishing up…cops everywhere…like the um…Blues Brothers! yeah….I’m like, we’re just trying to have a good time, man…can’t the band just play one more?!…THAT’s what’s going on in my head (I had a few in me)…so I grab the mic (I get a little worked up sometimes)…and I yell “CAN’T THE BAND JUST PLAY ONE MORE?! PIG!!!…and the band dives back on stage and screams into “We’re Not Gonna Take It” …it was awesome…but, the pi , I mean, cops don’t like it one bit …so, when the song ends and the mayhem ensues, I chuck my guitar to Steve and I shoot off the giant stage…running on top of people…actually stepping on the flat hats of the cops as I head for the door…as I’m blasting out the door—headed for the van—I glance back to see the whole band fighting off assailants in uniform AND packing up equipment simultaneously!…I love those guys…so, I get to the van, fire it up, and hit the gas…but, when I swing it around to the front of Rudy’s, there is only one small parking space…and it happens to be right in front of a cop car…AND there is someone seated in said cop car…well, I figure, we’re in it THIS deep…so I gun it—preparing to make that little parking space a BIG parking space…and BOOM!…I SLAM INTO THE FRONT OF THAT COP CAR!!…Now! I leap from the van—expecting to have to take care of that cop that was seated in the cruiser…and take care of HER, I did!…seems Johnny Law was actually JANEY Law…AND, it seems there was something in the way our eyes met…we moved cautiously toward one another…both knowing something that we didn’t know…we touched…the rest of the band exploded out of Rudy’s with the entire New Haven police force in hot pursuit…however, they were all stopped—arrested, if you will—by the sight of Janey and I finishing our passionate embrace…I looked at her…..with my… eyes…and my eyes said something…something her eyes weren’t able to hear…so. I said it with my mouth…”Janey, I’m a loner…a rebel…” she stopped me…her strong, yet elegant index finger pressed to her tight, cop lips…then she pointed that finger forcefully at the highway that lay before us…”Go.” She ordered. And we complied.
When the van was loaded and we were about to pull away, towards Somethington, U.S.A., Officer Janey Law—I never caught her real name-- came to my window and whispered, “When you come back here next year, I wanna see you again.”
That’s what I remember…you don’t forget a thing like that.
T
Prelude:
9/11
Afghanistan terrorists attack WTC, The Pentagon, and an unknown target.
The nation and the world is devastated. Hundreds confirmed dead, thousands still missing. At the time, the supposed work of Osama Bin Ladin. The U.S. vows retribution. Stars and stripes are everywhere as people all over the Country are showing support and unity in this time of national disaster. Not exactly the best of circumstances to start our month-long tour of
the Southeast.
The 9/17 NYC show is presumed to be canceled though there's really no way
to contact the club as Manhattan, and for that matter, all of NYC's communication
is at a standstill.
Surprise! The gig is still on but we're a bit too busy with 49 Market St.'s
impending demise. (r.i.p.)It is the end of an era to say the least.
1’ST gig canceled so we shoot for a midnight departure on 9/18.
2:00 a.m. van, trailer, six Stuntmen, and one Texan (Steve Elolf, who will from
here on be referred to as Zippy), depart for Chapel Hill, N.C. Bye Bye.
9/18 2:30 a.m. Pretty smooth ride. Enough room for all to recline and/or
lay down. T.V., CB, personal reading lamps, a kickin stereo, and ashtrays
everywhere.
I'm actually getting a little sleep.
5:45 a.m. (Zippy's first shift, five minutes in): awoken by the rumble strip and
the deceleration as we pull to the side of the road. Flat tire? Nope.
Worse. Much worse. Possibly a thrown piston rod. Well looks like my AAA
(not AA) card is gonna see some early activation.
Scott Hall's new cell phone is for some reason not working. (I told you those
phones were the devil's work).
6:30 a.m. Myself and Terry take a stroll down the embankment and parouse
the area. No luck.
7:15 a.m. Steve and myself take a longer stroll down the side of an overpass
and come apon a business that appears to be open.
In the first of a string of incidents that have reaffirmed my faith in the spirit
of America, the guy in the store not only offers these two suspicious looking
misfits the phone to use, but suggests a great mechanic who's shop is half a
mile away. Of course he doesn't let us walk....he drives us there. It really felt
nice to be in a moving vehicle.
Well we're stuck in Moscow...Pennsylvania, that is.
Tryrart's Quick Lube (we don't lube ya and leave you) sign above the garage.
Enter Steve and Freedom waiting for the boss. Earl.
"what seems to be the trouble?" Earl
"When you're stuck in the middle of a sunrise, your brain throws a rod while
in rewind." Fed Ex
Earl is a very friendly late 40's preacher/mechanic/scoutleader who offers
me the phone to call AAA. My first roadside assistance call in at least 12 years.
Funny thing though, they give you a 10 day waiting period for the AAA plus
to kick in. Mine wasn't due till Friday of that week. But hey, we can make it four
days without a disaster right?
9/18 8:30 a.m. Earl drives me and Steve to the van cutting across the highway
divider in his Mercury K. AAA is already there. Apparently the cops had shown
up and offered assistance, troubleshooting, a call to AAA and no questions. Wow!
Enter Art. Art is a late 60's sweet old man with his own towing service which
he is happy to tell us about. The oldest in Moscow (pronounced mosco), and the
20'th oldest in the country. Art is very cool.
Earl drives Zippy and three stuntmen. Art drives two stuntmen in the truck
and one T Flood stowaway in the van all back to Earl's garage. We can leave the
trailer full of gear at Earl's place while we figure out what to do. We decide to
tow the van to S+L mechanics in Scranton, PA. They are supposedly the
best in town and so we go.
$ 2,400. That's the figure they gave us for the "problem" we encountered.
An untimely return to 'hamp seems eminent, or is it imminent, either way,
all I can picture is hiding at home with a handle of whiskey and my tail firmly
stuck between my legs.
So,at Steve's recommendation, we split up on different missions. T and Dave went to see about renting a van. Zippy and Bow go looking for a gig in Scranton to play tonight. Myself and Scott go looking for a cool bar we can all hang out at. Steve, after taking the first harrowing driving shift, naps in the van.
What Scott and I found was one of the only bars open at 3 in the afternoon.
Seemed cool enough. Upon further inspection, homo-erotic paintings on the
walls and a trophy presented to the Shilouhette bar for excellence of service
from the "leathermen society of Scranton", and several posters for safe sex
presentations (consisting of six guys it thongs holding condoms) we decide
this bar is not exactly for us and so we decide to exit.
3:30 p.m. back at the garage, napping and occasionally getting honked
at by the passersby's as we're sleeping outside on the grass next to the van
Here's where it gets good.
4:00 pm.
Options: rent a van and bring the trailer back home.
Sell the van and buy a new one.
Pool our money and rent a van to start the tour leaving the old one in Scranton ready to be worked on by the boys at the shop.
Hmmmm......
T Flood, the eternal voice of reason, questions our bubbling leans towards forging
ahead with the economic repercussions. If we sell the van for half of what it's worth, (if we even could), and get a rental, then upon our return we still wouldn't have a van, and we'd still have to pay for this one. Makes sense, but we'd sure have a lot of explaining to do.
Steve asks me for my itinerary to get the # for Local 506 in Chapel Hill
to cancel, at the very least the first show of the tour.
Upon seeing the book I've kept up to date with all the press contacts
as well as the gig list, Steve makes the call to cancel the first gig. "There's no way we can go home now." is Steve's sentiments. We would basically have to wait a year to rebook 20 some shows, and most of these rooms are the top
pick in their town.
The decision, hey everybody, grab your money and head up that hill, we're going to Texas. Oh Yeah!
The rental guy is from Needham and likes T from the start. Due in
prt to the Sox hat he is wearing. We haggle and haggle until finally he brings
out an autographed Pedro jersey and we all swoon. $1362.50, no credit card
4,200 free miles and 10 American flags later, we leave with a pristine 2000
van.
"Screw them cocksuckers, you know what to do with these." re: the flags.
With the Stars and Stripes flowing proudly from the antenna, we return to
S+L mechanics.
Enter J.R.
Earlier in the day this stocky 5'9 burly, greasy, S+L mechanic offered us
the idea of playing that night at Doc's Hard Rock Cafe where he sometimes
roadies for a band called the Crawdaddies. They play Skynyrd, Molly Hatchet,
and more.
We didn't exactly take him up on the offer but we did get to know him
a bit better.
We pull into S+L motors with our new van ready to stuff the backseat
full of gear and camping shit. J.R. spies the potential trailer hitch and tells us
he's got one we can have for free. As we wait at Trygart's, where we went to get
said trailer, we're not only looking better but this might turn into a comfy trip.
J.R. returns with a trailer hitch and ball. It's not long enough. No problem.
J.R.'s gonna drill a 3/4 inch hole in it so it fits.
Lights work, hitch works, van is new and very clean. But not for long.
Next stop; Doc's Hard Rock Cafe for some celebratory cocktails.
This appears to be J.R.'s home base and regular hangout. T points
out to J.R. that the chalkboard has something he should see.
"J.R. is gay"
To which the bartender exclaims, "that's been up for 3 days."
J.R. takes up the chalk and writes..."Knoblowski likes little black boys"
Well, we'll never know if this is true or not, but I do know that J.R. just
won with a crushing blow in the war of the chalkboard dis.
9/18 8:00 p.m. We finish our drinks with the lovely Tasia, a busty beautiful
young blonde bartender wearing a very sexy playboy T-shirt, and depart from
Moscow, PA after a long, long, day. Drinks in our belly and our van in the
capable hands of J.R., we head towards Charleston, South Carolina.
And
Charleston rules! Great bar called Cumberland's. After haggling with
the middle eastern bartender about half priced food (which was supposed to only
apply to dinner), he tells us to come back after the rush but not before a little
zing to Zippy. Upon learning Z was from Texas he exclaims,"if Texans were meant
to ski,...God would have made bullshit white". We're gonna have fun here. Steve spies the Pabst on tap and starts screaming at the Iraqi bartender for a bigger glass to which he replies in broken english,”are you sir a redneck?”to which Steve replies ,”Duh! Look at me of course I’m a redneck”. Steve not only gets a bigger glass but the bartender changes the keg so he can have fresh beer, a new friendship begins.
So we all split up to plug the gig in town. Steve and Bow storm the local radio station and get to play some tunes from the e.p. and talk the talk with a young lady who was waiting for a christian guest to be interviewed on the christian radio show they were holding hostage.
Zippy and myself head downtown. This will come up from time to time so
I'll just start here. Southern girls rule. They're all hot. Wicked hot. Ok, so
anyway we do pretty well.4:00 p.m. Back at the club the Citadel drinking crew has
arrived and happy hour is underway. Souncheck is in progress at this time
and we do our two half songs, Panic, and 2nd gear. Much applause from
the cadets. Them boys don't drive cars as well as they do tanks and "Sully"
gets ousted from his car by a buddy cause he can't get it around the stunt-van-
trailer combo. Seems he's a little too drunk at 5 in the afternoon. I can relate.
9:00 pm ShowTime. "Little Pieces" opens. Three-piece with a cute chick
singer. Pretty bad band. Not bad musicians or players but their material is awful.
Good first show. Very rocking. Steve unveils his Stars and Stripes cape for the
first time since the pvfbbq. "Iron hip" starts with Bow on stage alone. We follow
one by one. Myself, then Scott, Terry, and Dave. As the song builds, Steve enters
from the other side of the room in full cape regalia, unfurling it with his back to the
crowd. Big applause. Nice showmanship if I don't say so myself. And I do.
This routine will continue in almost every show on the tour. Straight into "Panic"
then "2nd Gear" and on.
2:00am. Days Inn welcomes us. Showers are nice.
9/20 Savannah, GA. This is one of the most beautiful towns I've ever been to.
Spanish moss covers most everything. It kind of resembles New Orleans without
all the tourist shit. Once again, hot broads everywhere.
Hey now, do you see what I see. People walking around with beer in plastic
cups. I told you it was like N'awlans. Well, when in Rome. I think we confused the
gift shop owner by cleaning them out of "caution-stunt driver" bumperstickers.
4:00'ish. We stop in at what from the outside appears to be a dive bar.
Well well well if those aren't flashing lights outlining the mirrored runway with the
obligatory gold metal pole in the middle of the stage. Dave pretty much cold-cocks
an unsuspecting Steve (who is entering) with the door as Dave abruptly decides
to leave. Maybe he went to get some singles. Ho my, you know what I said about
all Southern chicks being hot. Well It didn't apply at this gentlemen's club. Ho my,
they's uuuugly. This was the first time I was glad they couldn't take it all off.
Speaking of taking off, which's just what we did.
The Velvet Elvis. This bar is way cool. Gravy, are the local heavy's who play fucked up Zappa-esque tunes in costumes. Lots of fun. Drank a little too much before the set but it was a mere 2 Red Bulls later I was back on track.Great Set. Great press (nice 2 page article/interview w/picture). Sold a bunch
of merch and the mailing list is shaping up. Things are good. Free drinks are good too. Tammy is one cool ass bartender and someone we are hoping to see again soon. Camped out for the first time. Up till 6am, out by 1pm. Look out Jacksonville,
here we come.
9/21 Jacksonville, FL. Hung out in the parking lot across from the club for
a while drinking the Pabst's that Tammy the bartender from the Velvet Elvis sold
us after the show. Jack Rabbits is a cool joint with free beer, nice sound and
a very nondescript entrance. Got to hear Bruce sing his "rise up" song on the
t.v. at the benefit for the victims of the WTC debacle. Very moving. Cut off
Paul Simon doing "Bridge over troubled water" with the "Iron Hip" intro. Oh
well, we gotta play sometime. Another good set with a nice warm response from
the crowd. The cape routine is a sure bet. Tornado Bait is a shit-kickin band
from the area and we exchange info. I'm just glad I'm not sitting at home watching
the news.
2:00am. Leave FL and drive all night (not myself mind you, I don't drive so well). As Terry once said,"The point of having someone else drive, Al, is so I (we) can relax and get some rest." Nuff said.
11:00am. We're almost in New Orleans and I'm finally caught up.
For now anyway.
beer and titties. Cheap beer is easy. Every 20 feet or so there's little beer stands
with draught for $1.50 a pint. Every block has a strip bar. There's no cover at
some of them but you end up paying $4.00 for 12 oz. of Bud. It's nice to put
New Orleans at the beginning of the trip 'cause we all got cash. Not for long.
The first strip bar is kind of lame so we hit The Bourbon Burlesque.
The tall black man in bright green satin pajamas working the entrance is handing
out cards which entitle each customer a free shot of hot sex. Now schnapps is
not my thing but hey, it's free. So we enter.
First girl up is real cute. Long black hair, glasses, some nice ink, and
full pouty lips. After her set, she comes over to us and asks if she can hang out
with us. Her name is Suzy. Seems Suzy lived in Northampton a few years back
and, get this, she worked at Pop's Liquors. Whaddayaknow. Small world.
Suzy says she'll make the show at El Matador and maybe get some of her
co-workers to come too. Our work here is done so we leave, after, and only after
Bow's extended dollar bill is snapped up by the extra large pierced breasts of a
husky black mamma working the stage. I gotsta get me a camera.
Caught 3 for 1 happy hour at the "cats meow" karaoke bar. I will and have
made it a point to stop in here every time we're in the Big Easy. Very cool.
Back at El Matador we decide to hit the circle bar again looking for Brian. Brian is a super individual. Steve met him on one of the infamous Unband tours. He was the tour manager for one of the best live rock and or roll bands in the country Supergroup. Their first meeting was in L.A and the story went something like some movie star's house a friend was house sitting ,hot tubs and cocaine served by strippers in the hot tub, so anyway now they are best friends.We never go to New Orleans without a visit to Brian. We went through the whole Andre Williams CD searching for a song we heard once before called "pass the biscuits".No luck. If anyone out there knows of this song, please let us know where to find it.
Midnight: not as sober as before but ready to rock. A flamenco group is
performing and they're pretty damn good. Drinks are free which, in most cases,
would be a good thing. I opt for the water. Great, great, water. 12:45 we hit the
stage to a nice size crowd. Once again, the cape dealy works fabulously. We play our hour set we had planned on but there's no way in hell that's gonna satisfy this crowd. On we go with more songs and believe me we are starting to hear the whiskey in the music. After an hour and a half forget about it we are a sloppy, loud ,yelling rock monster that only wants boobies and whiskey (I think of him fondly as Jackson Tittie)! One of a bunch of people who showed up after enjoying us last time is standing in front of Steve and pulls an unopened half pint of Jim Beam thinking it's gonna buy him a whiskey river, fat chance Steve just shakes his head without missing a beat so the noble fan who's only crime was trying to save himself a dollar approaches me with the half pint . I shake my head and inform the gent that it's Jack Daniel's and only Jack Daniel's that will get him what he wants. Ten minutes later he returns with the goods. HO My. O.K.That notwithstanding (and I believe that's the first time I've ever used the word notwithstanding), the set is good, we make some new fans, sell a
bunch of merch, and meet some pretty girls. Right after the set there was a short photo opp. with some boobs.It was all in all a good effort. At 3:00 a.m. Outside packing up and here comes Suzy. She was held up with business and missed the show. Too bad, but we picked ourselves up a new member of our "hangover anticipators" club. Back to the circle bar for some drinks.
Crashed at Brian's place and slept till the early afternoon. 9/23 Headed to Margaret's place (Brian's girl) to crash some more. Margaret's cute kid Grace (about 8) Drew a picture of us flag and all. A new addition to the trailer door which has become the wall of fame. Beers, butts, and grilled sausages (courtesy of chef Bow) set the mood for the day. It's our first day off and a much needed one. "There was a small explosion" -Dave Durst re: a loud pop and flash of light that killed the only lamp on in the room. None of us move as the warming glowing warming glow emanating from the t.v. lets us know it's ok. Monday night football, Jackie Chan, and white trash Velveeta dip close out our night. Nice, eh? 5:00 am 9/24. We head out on the first really long stretch of the tour dropping off our new friend Suzy at her pad. . San AntonioTexas, here we come. 11 hours later we arrive.
Once before the band had tried to play Dottie's,but there was an all powerful force that had another agenda,our alternator.The behemoth of a ship we Stuntipirates sailed ,sunk somewhere in the south seas of Georgia. Upon finally arriving at the venue that had eluded us just two years before, we needed to celebrate with drink.
I'm sure most of you know there are only two drinks, beer and Jack Daniels. We made friends quickly.
Piano man Scott HAll had some rather straight laced kin in the area. They arrived early,about three hours early,and caught ole Scotty sound asleep in his truck. After hello's and look's of confusion from some of the women folk, the HAll clan took seats and watched the first band. The first band ended and the Hall clan left.Scott's cousin had bailed us out of a sticky situation a few years earlier,so we are in his debt,but let me tell you the women folk in the clan were scared
and could not wait to get the hell out of Dotties.
The straight lacers leaving was for the best,their
best.The mayhem that ensued I could never in a million years paint the perfect picture to describe. If you were there you know it was somewhere between wrestling match,rock concert ,and gun fight. The bullet holes in the ceiling will long be a testament to time we had.
Our new friends were smashing bottle after bottle on the bar room floor in appreciation. At two thirty A.M. I proclaimed in a loud drunken screech,"you'd better lock the fucking doors cuz we ain't going nowhere". The owner of the bar screeched right back,"I already Deed". On we played until we all fell down for good. It's the first time in a long while that we played until we ran out of songs.
We had some friends following us at that point,Dotties did them in and they had to limp home for repairs. We went on to New Orleans for more whiskey.
Thanks to Rick Dang and Larry for making Dotties a reality. The place closed down the day after we played it. I hear it's now reopened as a place called Lenny's........We'll see about Lenny's.
We met some lovely ladies from Spain and were glad to see all the Northhampton transplants come on out.STRAIGHT ON TO D.C. where,thanks to Brian Tex., we had a place to crash before our gig in Fredneck,uh....Fredrick Maryland where we cleared a room full of boys in white baseball caps yelling Freebird.
On the way back home Scott Hall and myself stopped in Philly for cheesesteaks,and to run up the Rocky steps.So we're walking around downtown Philly and run into the Stone Coyote's own John Tibbles http://www.stonecoyotes.com and of course John knew where the best cheesesteaks and the Rocky steps are located(he's very worldly,that guy)So we head off for cheesesteaks and Rocky steps,I wanted to eat a cheesesteak while running up said Rocky steps,but the distance between these two American landmarks proved too great.So beer then cheesesteak,then bloody mary,then beer then Rocky steps.Scott damn near killed himself running several blocks as soon as the steps were in sight,I wished him luck and walked to the top where I threw my arms up in mock victory and yelled U.S.A.U.S.A.at this time a very nice Asian family gathered around and took turns acting like Rocky under the direction of Scott Hall.We made it back to town for last call at the Baystate.-----Bow Bow--------
i like playing at the baystate because you get your shit there early come home, take a shower, watch T.V., drink a beer, take a little nap, and walk very relaxededly to the bar just in time to play. It didn't really pan out this time cuz the drummer for The Malarkies was so damn fine I had to be there for their whole set.
shows over back home
In all of Northampton I'm the only one insightful enough to buy a fucking twelve pack. Assholes.
The party at Market Street is usually as routine as the Point After Touchdown. I am now shrewd enough to never leave beer in the fridge on these times. Mike Flood brings beer - other things happen - we have a concert - not much dancing this time - not much dancing
Saturday we go to Maine to play with Spouse.
It was 13 degrees.
13 sucks
Sunday we didn't make it to NYC because church ran late. Apologies.
The Ware River Club then came on and also rocked the house. Thankyou to all you lovely New York peeps who came out to support us,we appreciate a wicked lot. See you next time.
Stuntman Steve
for the best dive bar in somerville. The red curtain that the bands have to pull themselves is the classiest thing I've ever been a part of.It's actually hung with shower curtain ringlets.We had fun got drunk danced around to the rolling stones and drove home really fast.I think we play there again in march.I hope the hot bartender is working.
,up yours Steve
Some very kind folks have figuered out the special ingrediants to make the perfect party. Combine an awesome place out in the woods, food you want to eat more of but know you shouldn't, kegs of both kinds of beer (cheap and good and good and good), many awesome local acts, a big fucking fire to offest the freezing fucking cold, and viola, perfect party.
Mike Flood kicked the show off and he is a genius. After playing solo acoustic for a bit, he was joined by a wig wearing maniac on a penny whistle. Various stuntmen got on stage and Mike continued to rock with a band. I believe he closed(what great cookies) with the ever so emotional ode to "Terry". This song defines family.
The Stuntmen followed and blazed through a set of rock and roll, as they always do. By now time was slowing down and my brain was microfocusing(thank you cookie god). Pretty much every song would build up in energy till your mind(or my mind) could burst. Luckily, my brain stayed in tact, and no one else seemed to explode.
Ok, enough of my gabbering, hopefully a stuntmen will come along and tell their story, cause Im sure its more exciting than my drivel!
Photos coming soon.
Taping policy:
Drunk Stuntmen encourage taping of their live shows for personal and noncommercial sharing and blaring purposes. Some venues may put restrictions or prohibit taping. Please don't go to see us at those venues anymore.
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