Sunday, May 22, 2005

August 21, 2004 - Boise, ID

So, about 3am Austin takes the wheel and I take to riding shotgun because everyone else is asleep and not getting up. We drive through the night and talk about important stuff for most of the way. Actually that's not true. I think we made mindless chit chat for about six hours because that's what happens at 5am in the middle of nowhere.

Either way, we rolled into Boise not knowing exactly what will happen with the show. We heard that Folsom was supposed to play, and that's what had us wondering. A few weeks before, a few of our friends had gone to Vegas to see a show, Folsom was there and ended up beating up one of our friends pretty bad. Seeing as how we were in Boise and three other bands from SLC were on their way, we figured things might get ugly real quick. Then Folsom cancelled. Surprise, surprise.

So we hang around the venue for a bit and decide to hit a Boise staple called the Pita Pit. There were "vegan" hot dogs for us, but we remembered about Chris Purkey's escapades the last time and opted out. After we got back, we were told the show would be starting soon. The Eulogy Tour that we had been following the entire weekend was in town, and luckily on the same show as us. It was some kind of benefit/fest and there were about 12 bands playing. At first we were told we were up like second or third, which kind of bummed us out because that meant playing at about 2pm. Then things changed and we were following Aftermath and Skeiff, neither of whom had shown up yet, so we were looking at a good spot around 5 or 6.

About 3:30, a bunch of cars roll up and it looks like half of Salt Lake has come up to the show. It had a good turnout already so this was just icing on the cake. Bring it Down was one of the first bands to show up that morning, and they play in Idaho more than they play in Utah and they had to play second or third I think. I felt kind of bad. But as the day wore on, Salt Lake played, then Black My Heart, Shattered Realm, The Judas Cradle and the Warriors tore everything apart. It was the best show of the tour, and I was able to pay myself back for all the gas I bought on the way.

We bid our farewell and climb in the van for our ride back to SLC. It was about 11pm, so we figured we'd get home about 4 or so, sleep in our own beds and head to our supposed "Big Show" in Salt Lake the next afternoon. Bill volunteered to drive, which was surprising because it was the first time he'd driven the entire trip. I tried to grab some sleep, but the floor of the van isn't the most ideal place to do that so I put on a little Nine Inch Nails and gave it a shot. Half an hour later I wake up to Bill saying he can't drive anymore. Clint volunteers and I climb up into the passenger seat again. About an hour later, Clint is spent and needs me to take over. I try but only last about an hour, too. I pull off to a gas station and decide I'm going to sleep for a little while. Clint liked the idea, grabbed a blanket and headed out to sleep on a small patch of grass in front of the gas station. At the time it sounded like a fine idea, mainly because I didn't care and just wanted to sleep. 45 minutes later I wake up to Clint looking for his wallet and two police officers standing outside our van. They talk to Clint for a few minutes while I half sleep/half listen to something about us being a death metal band and an abandoned hotel across the street. Clint gets back in, and I ask what happened.

"Well, I was asleep out on the grass and then I woke up to someone poking me and yelling 'Vamanos! Vamanos!' I looked up and it was a cop. He kept yelling at me in Spanish, but I had no idea what he was saying, so I just sat up and said 'I don't speak Spanish,' and he stopped yelling at me."

"He said he was driving by, saw me on the grass and turned around. I guess there's alot of Mexican bums that wander the streets and pass out at random places. He thought I was a Mexican Bum. I showed him my blanket and pointed to the van and told him that I was in a band. Then he asked for my ID and told me I couldn't sleep on the grass."

Now at 4 am after 36 hours of no sleep, this story was hilarious. Dan and I laughed for a good 15 minutes as we drove away. When we dropped Dan off at his apartment in SLC, Austin finally woke up. I was excited because that meant I got to tell him how Clint was mistaken for a Mexican bum. I could sleep easy after telling that story again.

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