Area Band once again proves they are not in it for the money, glory, respect of their peers etc...
Okay so last night at the show all kind of shizzy went down but I can't remember most of it do to the power of sweet sweet tequila.
lemme tell you what I remember...
First of all there were very few people there as usual. No giftbags with our names on them either.
So we are laying the rawk down in our own special way. A guy requests some Stevie Ray Vaughn. I have to explain to him that Stevie Ray was a genius and we are the Ghosts so no...no Stevie Ray tonight or prolly evah.
Next interruption. In the darkness and through the smoke from our very high tech smoke machine a girl approaches the stage on crutches. those elbow crutches that people without legs use. anyhoo. When she gets to the stage I realize that she is an old friend that I have not seen in about 8 years...holy shit.
She asks if she can play a song. The girl don't miss a beat huh. I ask her what the hell the crutches are for and she tells me she is recovering from a brain tumor...nice huh? I later learn that they had to remove most of her cerebellum and that affected her balance. she is prolly looking at another year on those crutches...sigh...
So at this point I cannot refuse her. While this is going on the guys in the band have no idea who this chick is. The looks on their faces as I handed her my guitar could make Dick Chinney go limp. anyhoo. it sorta got surreal for a few minutes as she does a damn good job blowing through our classic song of the need for more misunderstanding in the world 1-800-DIVORCE. The song ends and I explain to the guys who just played with us and there were hugs all around as everyone said hi.
Next inturruption. This is pretty good. Dude comes up and tells us it is his girlfriends 21st birthday and would we please embarrass her from the stage. We are always happy to embarrass someone besides ourselves in the live setting so I insist that now that she is of age she have a real shooter. No sex on the beach no buttery nipple none of that silly underage shit. And of course I recommend tequila. She Recommends that we buy her that shot. She somehow knows our weakness...We agree. Shots are ordered over the microphone which is a fantastic way to get a bartenders attention.
The Tequila shots arrive and we promptly stop in the middle of our song out of respect for excessive booze consumption. We do the shots and finish the song, or so I was told later. I spend the rest of the set dampening Johnny Satans ride cymbal with my hand to amuse myself and annoy him.
Dick Chinney makes an appearance. people laugh. people are dragged over by their friends because they must see. Many are amused and some are repulsed. Unfortunately among the repulsed was the manager. more about that later...
Set ends and I go to see how the birthday girl is. Some may have perceived her condition at the time as not well. But of course it is all very subjective and it was her birthday after all. She is leaned halfway over in her barstool and mumbling something to herself. I talk to her boyfriend for a moment and tell him we are sorry and will buy her another shooter if that would help. At this point she pops her head up and slurs that there is way too much talking and to quit it...I apologize and explain to her that men must discuss everything in detail to process things. A women could not understand our inborn need for this. The joke was lost on her much like every joke I tell. That is why we resort to the old standby: the dick on the chin.
We take our usual excessively long set break. The manager tells me he loves and trusts us to play there and be cool...but what the hell is that shit?!?!?! We are learning that a dick on your chin can really promote a whole spectrum of emotions . We are toying with the idea of some kind of good will tour centered around it.
Kim Koehler, the girl on the crutches is joined by Crack Baby and Johnny Satan and she plays a few songs. Then we take the stage again. I remember very little about this next set except that I had assured the manager that Dick Chinney would not show his...um...er...face....on stage anymore. Of course I turn around and Dick Chinney is there looking sort of haunting in the smoke and dim lighting. And of course the manager is there to see all of this. We are waiting a week or so before we book anything else there just in case anyone is a lil bit pissed.
Chuck Watt from Nug Jug joined us for our last couple songs. We might as well have a rule that if you know the songs you cannot sit in with us. he actually wailed some solos and shit. We made fun of hoobastank and then called it a night. Gawdamn but we are brilliant and shit! more to come...
lemme tell you what I remember...
First of all there were very few people there as usual. No giftbags with our names on them either.
So we are laying the rawk down in our own special way. A guy requests some Stevie Ray Vaughn. I have to explain to him that Stevie Ray was a genius and we are the Ghosts so no...no Stevie Ray tonight or prolly evah.
Next interruption. In the darkness and through the smoke from our very high tech smoke machine a girl approaches the stage on crutches. those elbow crutches that people without legs use. anyhoo. When she gets to the stage I realize that she is an old friend that I have not seen in about 8 years...holy shit.
She asks if she can play a song. The girl don't miss a beat huh. I ask her what the hell the crutches are for and she tells me she is recovering from a brain tumor...nice huh? I later learn that they had to remove most of her cerebellum and that affected her balance. she is prolly looking at another year on those crutches...sigh...
So at this point I cannot refuse her. While this is going on the guys in the band have no idea who this chick is. The looks on their faces as I handed her my guitar could make Dick Chinney go limp. anyhoo. it sorta got surreal for a few minutes as she does a damn good job blowing through our classic song of the need for more misunderstanding in the world 1-800-DIVORCE. The song ends and I explain to the guys who just played with us and there were hugs all around as everyone said hi.
Next inturruption. This is pretty good. Dude comes up and tells us it is his girlfriends 21st birthday and would we please embarrass her from the stage. We are always happy to embarrass someone besides ourselves in the live setting so I insist that now that she is of age she have a real shooter. No sex on the beach no buttery nipple none of that silly underage shit. And of course I recommend tequila. She Recommends that we buy her that shot. She somehow knows our weakness...We agree. Shots are ordered over the microphone which is a fantastic way to get a bartenders attention.
The Tequila shots arrive and we promptly stop in the middle of our song out of respect for excessive booze consumption. We do the shots and finish the song, or so I was told later. I spend the rest of the set dampening Johnny Satans ride cymbal with my hand to amuse myself and annoy him.
Dick Chinney makes an appearance. people laugh. people are dragged over by their friends because they must see. Many are amused and some are repulsed. Unfortunately among the repulsed was the manager. more about that later...
Set ends and I go to see how the birthday girl is. Some may have perceived her condition at the time as not well. But of course it is all very subjective and it was her birthday after all. She is leaned halfway over in her barstool and mumbling something to herself. I talk to her boyfriend for a moment and tell him we are sorry and will buy her another shooter if that would help. At this point she pops her head up and slurs that there is way too much talking and to quit it...I apologize and explain to her that men must discuss everything in detail to process things. A women could not understand our inborn need for this. The joke was lost on her much like every joke I tell. That is why we resort to the old standby: the dick on the chin.
We take our usual excessively long set break. The manager tells me he loves and trusts us to play there and be cool...but what the hell is that shit?!?!?! We are learning that a dick on your chin can really promote a whole spectrum of emotions . We are toying with the idea of some kind of good will tour centered around it.
Kim Koehler, the girl on the crutches is joined by Crack Baby and Johnny Satan and she plays a few songs. Then we take the stage again. I remember very little about this next set except that I had assured the manager that Dick Chinney would not show his...um...er...face....on stage anymore. Of course I turn around and Dick Chinney is there looking sort of haunting in the smoke and dim lighting. And of course the manager is there to see all of this. We are waiting a week or so before we book anything else there just in case anyone is a lil bit pissed.
Chuck Watt from Nug Jug joined us for our last couple songs. We might as well have a rule that if you know the songs you cannot sit in with us. he actually wailed some solos and shit. We made fun of hoobastank and then called it a night. Gawdamn but we are brilliant and shit! more to come...
posted by He Who at 9:03 PM
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