We were waiting for the Motel Burrito leftovers to warm up in the middle of the night after our show in Arcata. I was laying in bed intoxicated on a couple different substances and the next thing I remember was waking in the dark to a silent room full of sleeping dudes.
It took more than a few seconds to realize what had happened; I missed dinner! I got up, took off my clothes, pissed, and punched Dean because he was snoring like a goddam jack hammer.
    We got up in the morning and packed up. We had to dodge the hippies in the parking lot who were letting their dogs play with an enormous piece of mangled plastic. They slowly grew in numbers, huddled in the middle of the parking lot and blasted live Pink Floyd. We knew it was now or never if we were going to escape without smelling like patchouli or something worse. They waved to us as we drove out. “Bye hippies!” we said and gunned it.
    Our next destination was Reno, about a 7 hour drive and one of the longer ones on this tour. But it was also to be one of the prettiest stretches of road traveled with the Redwoods in full blown Autumn orgasm. I think it’s one of the prettiest areas of the world. I guess that might hold more weight if I would actually travel somewhere outside of the states.
    Trying to sleep as much as possible made the day move by pretty quickly and we rolled into the “biggest little city” at 8pm. Of course we snapped a picture of the Reno sign as we drove underneath it, a tradition long held by millions of stupid Americans. Another couple miles down the infamous stretch and we pulled up to Shea’s, a legit dive. The Sunday regulars were a rockin’ bunch and consisted of heshers, skaters, punks, sleazebags, and skanks. Dustin and I introduced ourselves to the bar manager. He looked the exact opposite of his clientele but he seemed to know and like everyone. I think he forgot we were even supposed to play. He kept asking what sort of deal we worked out. Apparently Sundays are open-mic nights.
    In Nevada you can smoke indoors which gave Aaron the biggest boner so he started chain smoking as soon as we walked in to, as he said, “get it out of my system.” Chief snapped a photo celebrating his first time smoking in a bar. I just sat there grinning and bearing it while my lungs took in the glorious fumes. Also, there was no food at the bar so we ordered a large pizza from a joint down the road. I don’t know what kind of dick ran the kitchen but their large was more like an industrial size small. Then we saw a commercial on TV advertising the same place with a special of 30 wings and a large pizza for 20 bucks. We had just spent 20 on this shit and didn’t get any wings. Maybe the dude who took our order didn’t tell us about the special because Chief was sort of fucking with him on the phone asking if there was a Black Pussy discount.
    We sound-checked and got a pitcher on stage. First song went swimmingly but next song Aaron’s rig started going out. He unplugged from his pedal board and went direct but that too proved futile. The 2000 s was dead. Dustin hopped off stage and grabbed the 1200 s and we took a second to get him up and running. But after that we started wining the audience over. The bartender asked if we wanted another pitcher, then someone bought us a round of whiskeys. We got to the end of the set and started in on encores and soon another round of whiskeys made their way onstage and more beer. Apparently, my bladder decided to play “old man” and I actually had to get off stage and piss. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it all the way through the 12 minutes of Butterfly, our last song of the night. It felt good to turn around uncertainty into fans.
    I learned later on that a guy heard our sound check and was so stoked that he ran home and ate some mushrooms to help his enjoyment of our set. I thought that was awesome. I like the fact that people enjoy our music on psychedelics. As we were finishing load-out a drunkard tried to bribe us with weed to move the van and trailer so he could get his truck out. No dice. We had to finish the pack up before we could move. Sorry bro!
    Chief heard about a super cheap casino hotel that we went and checked into. For 35 bucks and change it was the nicest place we’ve stayed so far. I wish Motel 6 would take some notes. Aaron got dinner going in the rice cooker and then most of the guys went out to find a gas station, presumably for smokes and drink. Chief and I stayed behind watching Frontline while we tried to stay awake for their return and to get our grub on. But alas, and again, late night food was not in my future and I fell asleep. Peter did the same and when he awoke the next morning he let out a nice “FUCK, I was waiting all day to eat and I missed it!” I feel you brother.
I feel you.

‘Till next time!


- ryan | No Comments