I seriously doubt anyone still looks at this page, but in the off chance that someone does, I'm making a little update.
This project is still very much alive, it's just not alive in real time. The method used to be that I'd write a piece and post it immediately, but I stopped doing that a long, long time ago. Like 4 years ago. Ooops.
I transferred everything that's on this site to a Google Doc and added every other out of town date that I've played withe Cherem, Tamerlane and Aftermath of a Trainwreck. I made little bullet points of things I remembered about each show and have been slowly plugging away at it ever since.
Earlier this year, I got a boring desk job that comes with A LOT of downtime. In some of that downtime, I've been pecking away at some of these stories and fleshing them out. The entry below (July 19, 2005 - Redlands, CA) is pages 49-50 of that document. I just hit page 116 this morning. Things are moving along nicely.
My goal is to have the whole thing finished by the end of the year. I'll let it sit for a month or so then dive back in for rewrites. I want to make the tone consistent throughout and hit all the little things that I missed along the way - anecdotes, side stories, new recollections, etc.
The plan is to put it together with some fliers, photos, set lists, news articles and things like that and make a nice, limited edition book. Mostly it would be just for the dudes in the band, but depending on how it turns out and how much it costs to manufacture, I might make a few extra available in the off chance that other people want one.
We'll see. I'm determined to get this finished. Whether or not anyone actually sees it is another story all together.
Tuesday, October 01, 2013
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
JULY 19, 2005 - REDLANDS, CA
Once we were back on the road away from everything, the mood began to lighten. We always have fun in Redlands (as mentioned before) so we were excited to see some familiar faces and have some fun. The drive was about 4 hours long, but went fairly quickly once we were on our way. We were still pissed at Bryan (and most of Oubliette) but tempers had calmed down a little and we were confident that the rest of the shows—while they probably wouldn’t be amazing—would be better than any that we’d played on the tour so far.
As we got closer to Redlands, Brook started making phone calls looking for something to do and somewhere to eat. Sure enough Baker’s was the place to be. Baker’s is amazing to someone like me. It’s a fast food place, but it has vegan tacos and vegan burgers—not to mention French Fries, which if it were up to me would be the only thing I ate. Well, that and Lays potato chips. We made a beeline for the Baker’s, ate and made our way to Loomis’ house to crash for the night.
The next day we did what we do best on tour, and that is a whole lot of nothing. French Fry burritos from Cuca’s and fancy sodas from Gerald’s were how we spent most of the afternoon. The show was to be at Tithemi (Thom’s church) again, but we still had a few hours before the show.
Then Brook got a text from Davin.
“Oubliette broke up,” he said.
We were all surprised for a collective 5 seconds.
“That makes sense,” Clint said.
"So what happened?" I asked.
Here’s what happened. We thought tensions were high between Bryan and us, but apparently that was nothing compared to what the tension between everyone in Oubliette was. When it comes down to it, it makes perfect sense. They’d never been on tour before and they dive right in to a full U.S. trek that keeps falling apart piece by piece. That will take a toll on you for sure.
After sitting around Fresno for a while before realizing they weren’t going to play at all, they found somewhere to spend the night. The next day as they were driving through the desert just south of Fresno, the engine in their van blew up. Someone came and looked at it and determined that it was a total loss. They were towed to a wrecking yard and sold the van for parts—and made a whopping $150. They were 2,400 miles from home with no form of transportation, no band money and skyrocketing tempers. Both guitar players and the bass player loaded all their equipment onto a Grayhound bus, bought plane tickets and flew home. Davin, Ben and Bryan got a ride down to Redlands and came to the show that night.
None of us were surprised and actually kind of relieved that we weren’t going to have to deal with them anymore. And as much as Clint still wanted to punch Bryan in the face, he held off. Figured he’d been through enough for one day.
The show that night was the most fun we’d had all tour so far. Can’t really remember anything else. We still had another day in the Inland Empire before our show in Corona the next night, so there were more French Fry burritos and fancy sodas to be had. And I never have a problem with that.
As we got closer to Redlands, Brook started making phone calls looking for something to do and somewhere to eat. Sure enough Baker’s was the place to be. Baker’s is amazing to someone like me. It’s a fast food place, but it has vegan tacos and vegan burgers—not to mention French Fries, which if it were up to me would be the only thing I ate. Well, that and Lays potato chips. We made a beeline for the Baker’s, ate and made our way to Loomis’ house to crash for the night.
The next day we did what we do best on tour, and that is a whole lot of nothing. French Fry burritos from Cuca’s and fancy sodas from Gerald’s were how we spent most of the afternoon. The show was to be at Tithemi (Thom’s church) again, but we still had a few hours before the show.
Then Brook got a text from Davin.
“Oubliette broke up,” he said.
We were all surprised for a collective 5 seconds.
“That makes sense,” Clint said.
"So what happened?" I asked.
Here’s what happened. We thought tensions were high between Bryan and us, but apparently that was nothing compared to what the tension between everyone in Oubliette was. When it comes down to it, it makes perfect sense. They’d never been on tour before and they dive right in to a full U.S. trek that keeps falling apart piece by piece. That will take a toll on you for sure.
After sitting around Fresno for a while before realizing they weren’t going to play at all, they found somewhere to spend the night. The next day as they were driving through the desert just south of Fresno, the engine in their van blew up. Someone came and looked at it and determined that it was a total loss. They were towed to a wrecking yard and sold the van for parts—and made a whopping $150. They were 2,400 miles from home with no form of transportation, no band money and skyrocketing tempers. Both guitar players and the bass player loaded all their equipment onto a Grayhound bus, bought plane tickets and flew home. Davin, Ben and Bryan got a ride down to Redlands and came to the show that night.
None of us were surprised and actually kind of relieved that we weren’t going to have to deal with them anymore. And as much as Clint still wanted to punch Bryan in the face, he held off. Figured he’d been through enough for one day.
The show that night was the most fun we’d had all tour so far. Can’t really remember anything else. We still had another day in the Inland Empire before our show in Corona the next night, so there were more French Fry burritos and fancy sodas to be had. And I never have a problem with that.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
JULY 18, 2005 - FRESNO, CA
Fresno wasn’t the longest drive from Monterey Bay, but it wasn’t exactly the easiest either. There wasn’t a straight shot from one to the other and we had to take a two-lane highway about 90% of the way there. Not only was a two-lane highway the only option—the entire 155 miles were the winding, desert mountain roads of northern California.
We got the best directions we could from MapQuest before we left Clint’s aunts apartment and decided to leave a bit earlier in case we got lost. We were still driving our old 1993 Ford Econoline van (the one with no heater that we bought before we went to Erie) and since we didn’t have the money to fix it before we left, we had no A/C either. We stopped at the Walgreen’s on the way out of town and filled the cooler with bottled water and ice because we had a feeling we were going to need it.
The drive through the desert was one of the worst I’ve ever endured. I was behind the wheel, and we all drank so much water that we had to stop every half an hour or so for someone to pee. The lanes were so narrow that any time another car drove by—which was rare—I had to pull off to the side because we couldn’t both fit.
After the two hours that it was supposed to take, we got out of the mountains and came to a long, deserted highway road. We hadn’t seen a single car for the better part of an hour and we had come to a fork in front of us. There were no signs and it was over 100 degrees. We were all hot, restless and pissed and no one knew which way to go. I looked back at Brook and asked him which way we should go. He’s always had a pretty good instinct on which way leads where and even he threw his hands up in frustration and said, “Honestly, I have no fucking clue.”
Clint looked at me and said, “It’s your call.”
All I could think about was the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and a dozen other horror movies that start with a bunch of hapless people lost in the middle of nowhere.
I drove down the road and went left.
Roughly 45 minutes later, we came out of the desert in the middle of a town. We were all relieved to see civilization again, but still had no idea where we were or how far away from Fresno it was.
When we got our bearings and figured out we were only a few miles of an actual freeway road away, we felt better. We were still tense and frustrated, but happy to be close to getting out of the van for a while.
We rolled in to Fresno and met up with Oubliette. We asked them how the Sacramento show was and predictably, there were about 20-25 people there and no trouble whatsoever. Figures. Davin and Ben came over and hung out with us while Bryan was getting the venue info and told us things weren’t going too well on their end. Everyone in Oubliette was getting on each other’s nerves and their cramped van and shitty shows were making everyone increasingly hostile—and most of it was directed towards Bryan.
He had the address for the venue, so everyone piled back in their respective vans and we began following them. About two miles down the road, they flipped around and drove back the way we came. We followed suit. A few minutes later, they flipped around again and we followed. They flipped around a third time and pulled down a side street and parked. Suddenly we could all see why the tensions were running high with them. Bryan got out of the van and made another phone call. We waited patiently in our van—no one was talking and we all just wanted to get the fuck off the road.
Finally, Tears of Gaia rolled up and told us to follow them. They led us back the right way and we found the venue. We pulled around back, got out, said hi to all the TOG guys and waited for the owner of the club and the promoter to show up. We got back in our van and I tried to take a nap, but was woken up by Clint talking.
“I wonder who that is.”
He pointed across the parking lot where three other tour vans were parked. There were a few guys hanging out around them, but no one we recognized.
Eventually the owner of the club showed up and opened the doors. We all walked inside to the cool, air-conditioned venue and found the bathroom. It was a nice place with a real stage and sound equipment. There was even a side room with a few couches. We hung out for a minute, then Brook, Clint and I went back outside and opened the back of the van. I took one of the merch bins out and set it on the ground, just as one of the guys that had been hanging out on the other side of the parking lot approached us.
“Hey, uh, what band are you guys?”
“Cherem.”
“Are you supposed to be playing here tonight?”
“Yeah. Who are you guys?”
“We’re playing here tonight, too. We’ve got a 4 band tour package and a local opener.”
“Are you sure?”
The three of us looked at each other in confusion and Clint looked like he was about ready to hit the kid. We walked back inside with our new friend to where Bryan and Erik from New Eden Records were sitting on the couch. He told them what he had told us, and they started arguing a little bit. The owner of the club came over and settled the argument. Cherem, Tears of Gaia and Oubliette were not the bands he had down for that night. Bryan pulled his phone out and I walked off into the little side room where Austin was playing his guitar and Ben from Oubliette was setting up his drums.
“We don’t have a show tonight,” I said.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me.
“What the fuck do you mean?” asked Austin.
I told him what the deal was and we walked back into the other room just as Bryan was getting off the phone with the promoter.
“He denied even booking the show,” said Bryan.
“What?” I asked?
“He said he never confirmed anything with me because he didn’t book the show. But he told me he did,” said Bryan.
Austin and I walked back towards the other room and the guy we had spoken with in the parking lot came up to us.
“Sorry dudes,” he said. “If you want, you can try to get another P.A. system over here and you guys can set up in that back room and play in between our bands. Like while we’re setting up. Probably won’t be able to give you any door money, but it’s better than nothing.”
I can’t say for sure, but I think I saw steam come out of Clint’s ears when he said that.
“I don’t think so, man,” Austin said. “Can’t we just share the bill with you or something?”
“Like I said, if you want to see if you can get another P.A., you guys can play in here.”
That’s when I walked outside to the van. Brook was sitting in the drivers seat.
“I kind of want to fight Oubliette,” he said.
That’s when the back door of the van opened and Clint climbed in and slammed it behind him.
“Fuck, I want to punch Bryan in the face,” he said.
Brook turned around and said, “Me too! I say fuck this. Let’s go to Redlands.”
“I agree,” said Clint.
George looked up from his phone and asked, “What’s going on?”
I jumped out of the van, “I’ll go get Austin.”
As I walked back inside, Bryan, Erik and the rest of Tears of Gaia were hanging out, laughing and having a good time. The rest of Oubliette was breaking down and putting away their equipment looking like they were at the end of their rope. I walked up, grabbed Austin and said, “We’re going to Redlands. Fuck this.”
Austin turned back to Erik and Bryan and said, “I guess we’re gonna take off.”
“Alright,” said Bryan. “We’re going to hang around here for a bit and see what happens. Maybe we’ll get someone to bring another P.A. over.”
“Cool,” said Austin. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
We walked out the back door, got in the van and headed for the freeway in a worse mood than when we got out of the desert.
We got the best directions we could from MapQuest before we left Clint’s aunts apartment and decided to leave a bit earlier in case we got lost. We were still driving our old 1993 Ford Econoline van (the one with no heater that we bought before we went to Erie) and since we didn’t have the money to fix it before we left, we had no A/C either. We stopped at the Walgreen’s on the way out of town and filled the cooler with bottled water and ice because we had a feeling we were going to need it.
The drive through the desert was one of the worst I’ve ever endured. I was behind the wheel, and we all drank so much water that we had to stop every half an hour or so for someone to pee. The lanes were so narrow that any time another car drove by—which was rare—I had to pull off to the side because we couldn’t both fit.
After the two hours that it was supposed to take, we got out of the mountains and came to a long, deserted highway road. We hadn’t seen a single car for the better part of an hour and we had come to a fork in front of us. There were no signs and it was over 100 degrees. We were all hot, restless and pissed and no one knew which way to go. I looked back at Brook and asked him which way we should go. He’s always had a pretty good instinct on which way leads where and even he threw his hands up in frustration and said, “Honestly, I have no fucking clue.”
Clint looked at me and said, “It’s your call.”
All I could think about was the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and a dozen other horror movies that start with a bunch of hapless people lost in the middle of nowhere.
I drove down the road and went left.
Roughly 45 minutes later, we came out of the desert in the middle of a town. We were all relieved to see civilization again, but still had no idea where we were or how far away from Fresno it was.
When we got our bearings and figured out we were only a few miles of an actual freeway road away, we felt better. We were still tense and frustrated, but happy to be close to getting out of the van for a while.
We rolled in to Fresno and met up with Oubliette. We asked them how the Sacramento show was and predictably, there were about 20-25 people there and no trouble whatsoever. Figures. Davin and Ben came over and hung out with us while Bryan was getting the venue info and told us things weren’t going too well on their end. Everyone in Oubliette was getting on each other’s nerves and their cramped van and shitty shows were making everyone increasingly hostile—and most of it was directed towards Bryan.
He had the address for the venue, so everyone piled back in their respective vans and we began following them. About two miles down the road, they flipped around and drove back the way we came. We followed suit. A few minutes later, they flipped around again and we followed. They flipped around a third time and pulled down a side street and parked. Suddenly we could all see why the tensions were running high with them. Bryan got out of the van and made another phone call. We waited patiently in our van—no one was talking and we all just wanted to get the fuck off the road.
Finally, Tears of Gaia rolled up and told us to follow them. They led us back the right way and we found the venue. We pulled around back, got out, said hi to all the TOG guys and waited for the owner of the club and the promoter to show up. We got back in our van and I tried to take a nap, but was woken up by Clint talking.
“I wonder who that is.”
He pointed across the parking lot where three other tour vans were parked. There were a few guys hanging out around them, but no one we recognized.
Eventually the owner of the club showed up and opened the doors. We all walked inside to the cool, air-conditioned venue and found the bathroom. It was a nice place with a real stage and sound equipment. There was even a side room with a few couches. We hung out for a minute, then Brook, Clint and I went back outside and opened the back of the van. I took one of the merch bins out and set it on the ground, just as one of the guys that had been hanging out on the other side of the parking lot approached us.
“Hey, uh, what band are you guys?”
“Cherem.”
“Are you supposed to be playing here tonight?”
“Yeah. Who are you guys?”
“We’re playing here tonight, too. We’ve got a 4 band tour package and a local opener.”
“Are you sure?”
The three of us looked at each other in confusion and Clint looked like he was about ready to hit the kid. We walked back inside with our new friend to where Bryan and Erik from New Eden Records were sitting on the couch. He told them what he had told us, and they started arguing a little bit. The owner of the club came over and settled the argument. Cherem, Tears of Gaia and Oubliette were not the bands he had down for that night. Bryan pulled his phone out and I walked off into the little side room where Austin was playing his guitar and Ben from Oubliette was setting up his drums.
“We don’t have a show tonight,” I said.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me.
“What the fuck do you mean?” asked Austin.
I told him what the deal was and we walked back into the other room just as Bryan was getting off the phone with the promoter.
“He denied even booking the show,” said Bryan.
“What?” I asked?
“He said he never confirmed anything with me because he didn’t book the show. But he told me he did,” said Bryan.
Austin and I walked back towards the other room and the guy we had spoken with in the parking lot came up to us.
“Sorry dudes,” he said. “If you want, you can try to get another P.A. system over here and you guys can set up in that back room and play in between our bands. Like while we’re setting up. Probably won’t be able to give you any door money, but it’s better than nothing.”
I can’t say for sure, but I think I saw steam come out of Clint’s ears when he said that.
“I don’t think so, man,” Austin said. “Can’t we just share the bill with you or something?”
“Like I said, if you want to see if you can get another P.A., you guys can play in here.”
That’s when I walked outside to the van. Brook was sitting in the drivers seat.
“I kind of want to fight Oubliette,” he said.
That’s when the back door of the van opened and Clint climbed in and slammed it behind him.
“Fuck, I want to punch Bryan in the face,” he said.
Brook turned around and said, “Me too! I say fuck this. Let’s go to Redlands.”
“I agree,” said Clint.
George looked up from his phone and asked, “What’s going on?”
I jumped out of the van, “I’ll go get Austin.”
As I walked back inside, Bryan, Erik and the rest of Tears of Gaia were hanging out, laughing and having a good time. The rest of Oubliette was breaking down and putting away their equipment looking like they were at the end of their rope. I walked up, grabbed Austin and said, “We’re going to Redlands. Fuck this.”
Austin turned back to Erik and Bryan and said, “I guess we’re gonna take off.”
“Alright,” said Bryan. “We’re going to hang around here for a bit and see what happens. Maybe we’ll get someone to bring another P.A. over.”
“Cool,” said Austin. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
We walked out the back door, got in the van and headed for the freeway in a worse mood than when we got out of the desert.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
JULY 16 & 17, 2005 - Monterey Bay, CA
The drive was long and uneventful and we crossed into California early Saturday morning. As we made our way towards Sacramento, Austin got a phone call from Mike Hood with bad news. Mike was out of town on tour with Hoods and wouldn’t be in Sacramento for the show, which was a bummer because he’s the only reason we even stop in that city. Even worse than that, he’d had a bit of a run in with some dudes that didn’t end too well for him. He’d spent a little time in the hospital because of it and he was calling to give us a heads up.
Apparently, the guys that had jumped him made it known that they had a few problems with Salt Lake City also, and they were gunning for us at the show that night. We had no idea who these people were or why there were issues, but Mike told us if we showed up in Sacto, we needed to be careful. If he were there, it would be a different story and we might be able to work it out and get to the bottom of the problem to squash it. But he wasn’t.
We had a quick band discussion and decided that we probably wouldn’t stand a very good chance with only 5 of us and we didn’t want to drag Oubliette into something we weren’t very clear on to begin with (not to mention I’m not sure how effective they would have been if something had gone down). We took a vote and decided that since every other time we’d played Sacramento it was all right at best, we’d skip it and go stay with Clint’s aunt and cousin in Monterey Bay. There was a beach and we had the next day off before hitting Fresno on Monday. We called Oubliette, gave them the run down, told them to have fun and we’d see them in a couple of days.
Monterey Bay is a cool little town, but there’s not much to do. We pulled up in front of Clint’s aunt’s apartment building, grabbed our stuff and headed upstairs. We all kind of crashed on the floor and couch for a while Clint hung out with his little cousin. When we woke up and got ready later in the afternoon, we decided to head out and have a look around the town. We wandered the streets that were packed with tourists, checked out the bay and debated whether or not to pay for the aquarium. No one wanted to spend the money, so we bagged that idea and kept walking around. On the way back to the apartment, we stopped by Walgreen’s for snacks and what not. There was a huge Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince display and Brook and I both picked up a copy and started reading a little. I put the book down after a minute and went for food. As we were leaving, we saw Brook all the way on the other side of the parking lot reading Harry Potter. We walked back to the apartment and watched the Pauly Shore classic Son-In-Law, hung out and saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory later that night.
The next day, we spent more time wandering the streets and Brook saw Don Cheadle duck in to a gift shop. We were eating dinner with Clint’s aunt and a friend of hers at the restaurant she managed. It was a steak and fish house, but she promised the chef was going to make vegan meals for us and it was her treat. Since we were all fairly broke that sounded like a hell of an idea. Brook had less money than all of us, so I paid him $10 to steal a copy of the new Harry Potter and he was glad to oblige. He headed to Walgreen’s and we went back to the apartment to get ready.
Clint’s aunt is really nice and her eccentric, gay friend was one of the highlights of the trip. He didn’t quite understand straight edge, so he bought several bottles of wine, opened them and set them up all across the table “in case we wanted a taste.” Since none of us did want a taste, he ended up drinking more than he should, which made the night that much more entertaining. George showed off his sweet coloring skills and the food ended up being pretty good and the gay guy was hilarious. Monterey Bay was fun but we were getting bored and wanted to get back to playing shows. Fortunately we had Fresno the next night.
Apparently, the guys that had jumped him made it known that they had a few problems with Salt Lake City also, and they were gunning for us at the show that night. We had no idea who these people were or why there were issues, but Mike told us if we showed up in Sacto, we needed to be careful. If he were there, it would be a different story and we might be able to work it out and get to the bottom of the problem to squash it. But he wasn’t.We had a quick band discussion and decided that we probably wouldn’t stand a very good chance with only 5 of us and we didn’t want to drag Oubliette into something we weren’t very clear on to begin with (not to mention I’m not sure how effective they would have been if something had gone down). We took a vote and decided that since every other time we’d played Sacramento it was all right at best, we’d skip it and go stay with Clint’s aunt and cousin in Monterey Bay. There was a beach and we had the next day off before hitting Fresno on Monday. We called Oubliette, gave them the run down, told them to have fun and we’d see them in a couple of days.
Monterey Bay is a cool little town, but there’s not much to do. We pulled up in front of Clint’s aunt’s apartment building, grabbed our stuff and headed upstairs. We all kind of crashed on the floor and couch for a while Clint hung out with his little cousin. When we woke up and got ready later in the afternoon, we decided to head out and have a look around the town. We wandered the streets that were packed with tourists, checked out the bay and debated whether or not to pay for the aquarium. No one wanted to spend the money, so we bagged that idea and kept walking around. On the way back to the apartment, we stopped by Walgreen’s for snacks and what not. There was a huge Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince display and Brook and I both picked up a copy and started reading a little. I put the book down after a minute and went for food. As we were leaving, we saw Brook all the way on the other side of the parking lot reading Harry Potter. We walked back to the apartment and watched the Pauly Shore classic Son-In-Law, hung out and saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory later that night.
The next day, we spent more time wandering the streets and Brook saw Don Cheadle duck in to a gift shop. We were eating dinner with Clint’s aunt and a friend of hers at the restaurant she managed. It was a steak and fish house, but she promised the chef was going to make vegan meals for us and it was her treat. Since we were all fairly broke that sounded like a hell of an idea. Brook had less money than all of us, so I paid him $10 to steal a copy of the new Harry Potter and he was glad to oblige. He headed to Walgreen’s and we went back to the apartment to get ready. Clint’s aunt is really nice and her eccentric, gay friend was one of the highlights of the trip. He didn’t quite understand straight edge, so he bought several bottles of wine, opened them and set them up all across the table “in case we wanted a taste.” Since none of us did want a taste, he ended up drinking more than he should, which made the night that much more entertaining. George showed off his sweet coloring skills and the food ended up being pretty good and the gay guy was hilarious. Monterey Bay was fun but we were getting bored and wanted to get back to playing shows. Fortunately we had Fresno the next night.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
JULY 15, 2005 - PORTLAND, OR
Portland is only a few hours south of Seattle, so we had the majority of the day to hang out before hitting the road. Our first—and pretty much only—stop was PCC of course. The day before we had all gotten ready-to-eat vegan BLT’s from the deli section, so that’s the first place we all went. Unfortunately, they were all out of the vegan ones, but had a few real ones sitting in their place. Austin, Clint and I just stood there staring, looking over every single sandwich to see if another one was hiding somewhere. Out of nowhere, Brook reached in and grabbed one of the real BLT’s and went off. The three of us just looked back and forth at each other wondering if Brook was just trying to be sneaky and didn’t read the label or if he had just had enough and didn’t care anymore. Not wanting to have to find a replacement for the replacement singer after only two shows, I walked over and took the sandwich from him.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“This is a real one,” I said. “The vegan ones are all gone.”
I turned back and showed him the label. He read it and said, “Fuck. I wouldn’t have even noticed until I bit into it. Then I would have been pissed.”
“Why did you think the three of us were just standing there?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were looking for something else and I wanted to grab one before any of you changed your mind. I thought I lucked out.”
After we had eaten soup, salad and whatever else we could find, we bought cookies and donuts for the road and went on our way.
The drive should only take three or four hours, but we hit some pretty bad traffic leaving town and it took us over 5 hours to get there. When we pulled up to the venue were supposed to play at, we saw Justin standing out front and a whole bunch of punk rockers going inside. Clint got out to talk to him and when he came back over, we were informed that they double booked the show and ours was the one that got bumped. We got a hold of Oubliette (who was having trouble finding the place) and let them know what was going on. Justin was working the phones trying to find another venue for us to use and luckily enough, he found one. It was the basement of something on the other side of town, but I can’t remember for the life of me what it was.
We all drove over there and while the PA and the rest of the stuff were getting situated, I took a walk to find a gas station or store of some type where I could get a drink. I was shit out of luck. There was nothing around. I ended up walking for half an hour before I just decided to turn back towards the show.
The show went well, but again there were only a handful of people there. Justin had been expecting more and they had done a good job of promoting it, but the last minute venue change to a place that hardly anyone knew about probably fucked us.
After our set, some kid kept trying to start an argument with Brook at the merch table but just kept talking in circles. He was arguing that dancing/moshing was ruining hardcore and that it makes him mad when people do it. The only problem with his argument was that Brook and I had both seen this very same person moshing/dancing during Oubliette. Brook called him out on it, and he said that the only reason he moshed for them was because they were anarchists. It wasn’t a very strong argument so he switched to trying to argue with us about something he read in Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael book. By this time I had started helping people buy shirts and cd’s and what not, so I didn’t really take part in what was going on. The only thing I remember was this little snippet of conversation.
“...I agree with you,” said Brook.
“No, I what I’m saying is…” said the kid.
“Yes,” said Brook. “I understand exactly what you’re saying and I agree with you.”
“No, see the thing is…”
Some type of variation on that argument happens a lot on Cherem tours. People just want to argue and will argue anything for any reason—even if you agree with what they’re saying in the first place.
After the show and after we had said our goodbye’s we took off and found a grocery store. We needed to stock up on supplies for the long drive to Sacramento. We found one a little ways away and while we were inside, I noticed there were a surprising amount of people out shopping at 11:45 P.M. and they all seemed to be milling around the magazine and book area. The other thing was that the majority of them were pretty young—11, 12 and 13—there with some very tired looking parents. I grabbed my stuff and got in line trying to figure out what was going on. Brook came and got in line right behind me and asked me why all the people were there and I shrugged but asked the checkout lady.
“The new Harry Potter book is being released at midnight,” she said
Brook’s eyes got wide.
“Oh shit. I forgot about that,” he said.
I looked back over my shoulder at the crowd.
“Me too,” I said. “You want to make everyone wait so we can get one?”
Brook nodded.
“Good luck,” said the lady. “If you didn’t preorder it or put your name down on the list you might not get one. We ordered extra but a bunch of people requested one since.”
We were a little bummed, but since we were driving through the night in the dark, it wouldn’t have mattered much anyway.
We left the store and jumped back in the van, got on the 5 south and headed for Sacramento.
But that’s not where we’d end up.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“This is a real one,” I said. “The vegan ones are all gone.”
I turned back and showed him the label. He read it and said, “Fuck. I wouldn’t have even noticed until I bit into it. Then I would have been pissed.”
“Why did you think the three of us were just standing there?”
“I don’t know. I thought you were looking for something else and I wanted to grab one before any of you changed your mind. I thought I lucked out.”
After we had eaten soup, salad and whatever else we could find, we bought cookies and donuts for the road and went on our way.
The drive should only take three or four hours, but we hit some pretty bad traffic leaving town and it took us over 5 hours to get there. When we pulled up to the venue were supposed to play at, we saw Justin standing out front and a whole bunch of punk rockers going inside. Clint got out to talk to him and when he came back over, we were informed that they double booked the show and ours was the one that got bumped. We got a hold of Oubliette (who was having trouble finding the place) and let them know what was going on. Justin was working the phones trying to find another venue for us to use and luckily enough, he found one. It was the basement of something on the other side of town, but I can’t remember for the life of me what it was.
We all drove over there and while the PA and the rest of the stuff were getting situated, I took a walk to find a gas station or store of some type where I could get a drink. I was shit out of luck. There was nothing around. I ended up walking for half an hour before I just decided to turn back towards the show.
The show went well, but again there were only a handful of people there. Justin had been expecting more and they had done a good job of promoting it, but the last minute venue change to a place that hardly anyone knew about probably fucked us.
After our set, some kid kept trying to start an argument with Brook at the merch table but just kept talking in circles. He was arguing that dancing/moshing was ruining hardcore and that it makes him mad when people do it. The only problem with his argument was that Brook and I had both seen this very same person moshing/dancing during Oubliette. Brook called him out on it, and he said that the only reason he moshed for them was because they were anarchists. It wasn’t a very strong argument so he switched to trying to argue with us about something he read in Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael book. By this time I had started helping people buy shirts and cd’s and what not, so I didn’t really take part in what was going on. The only thing I remember was this little snippet of conversation.
“...I agree with you,” said Brook.
“No, I what I’m saying is…” said the kid.
“Yes,” said Brook. “I understand exactly what you’re saying and I agree with you.”
“No, see the thing is…”
Some type of variation on that argument happens a lot on Cherem tours. People just want to argue and will argue anything for any reason—even if you agree with what they’re saying in the first place.
After the show and after we had said our goodbye’s we took off and found a grocery store. We needed to stock up on supplies for the long drive to Sacramento. We found one a little ways away and while we were inside, I noticed there were a surprising amount of people out shopping at 11:45 P.M. and they all seemed to be milling around the magazine and book area. The other thing was that the majority of them were pretty young—11, 12 and 13—there with some very tired looking parents. I grabbed my stuff and got in line trying to figure out what was going on. Brook came and got in line right behind me and asked me why all the people were there and I shrugged but asked the checkout lady.
“The new Harry Potter book is being released at midnight,” she said
Brook’s eyes got wide.
“Oh shit. I forgot about that,” he said.
I looked back over my shoulder at the crowd.
“Me too,” I said. “You want to make everyone wait so we can get one?”
Brook nodded.
“Good luck,” said the lady. “If you didn’t preorder it or put your name down on the list you might not get one. We ordered extra but a bunch of people requested one since.”
We were a little bummed, but since we were driving through the night in the dark, it wouldn’t have mattered much anyway.
We left the store and jumped back in the van, got on the 5 south and headed for Sacramento.
But that’s not where we’d end up.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
July 14, 2005 - Seattle, WA
We drove sluggishly through the night, with Brook doing the lions share of the work behind the wheel. I rode shotgun most of the way, but couldn’t stay awake the entire time—which is the one thing you’re supposed to do while riding shotgun on tour. Sorry about that Brook.We rolled in to Seattle the next afternoon, and since I had a friend that lived there we drove straight to her work to say hello. She had a few hours left before she could leave, so we wandered the streets of Fremont looking at record shops and other random stores. I found a record by a band called Killed By Death, and I was a little bit upset about it. That was Casey, myself and Brook’s punk rock band that played one show. We took the name from a random Motorhead album, and figured someone had used it before, but it was still kind of a bummer to actually see. Across the street from the record shop was the greatest store on the planet. It’s called PCC and it’s what I wish Whole Foods/Wild Oats was like. There was awesome vegan food everywhere. Not one or two things that just happened to be vegan, but actually made in order to be vegan. Ready-to-eat vegan BLT’s, donuts, cupcakes—it was the best thing we’d ever seen. We hung out there most of the rest of the day eating way more than we probably should have.
Once Heather was finally off work, we met up with her and she took us back to her apartment. We were tired from the night before, so we all just kind of took it easy for a while and I caught up with Heather. I hadn’t seen her since the previous summer when she lived in San Diego (after the disastrous Total Liberation Tour Los Angeles show, everyone in Cherem decided to head back home, but I caught a ride to San Diego for Comic Con, and Heather’s place down there was our SD home).
George called first dibs on the shower, and since everyone else just kind of wanted to take a nap, we said okay. After a few minutes, he reappeared in the living room looking frustrated.
“I don’t want to sound like a dumb ass—but how the fuck do you turn on the shower?” he asked.
We all started laughing and Heather took him in for a demonstration. From that moment on, he had rightfully inherited the “Rookie” nickname.
Later that night, Heather was going out to meet some friends, so Clint and I went with her to some hipster bar while the rest of the dudes hung out back at her apartment. I felt like kind of an asshole, because we got all the way to the club before I realized I forgot my ID. We drove back, picked it up and headed back to the bar. It was a little bit boring, but everything in the bar looked extremely familiar. I mentioned something to Clint about it, and one of Heather’s friends overheard us.
“This was the main bar in that old movie, Singles.”
“Holy shit! This is the bar Alice in Chains played at.”
Dan Fletcher was the only person that would have appreciated that, and he wasn’t around. Everyone just looked at me like I was crazy.
The next day, we drove downtown and checked out The Space Needle (cool to see, but it was like $20 to go up and down), the Experience Music Project (pretty cool, but too expensive) and the Science Fiction Museum. The Sci-Fi museum was about $15, but since I’m a nerd, I had to see it, so I paid and left everyone behind for an hour or so. Totally worth it.
We were playing with another vegan band from up there called This Time Tomorrow, and they had told us about a place called Bamboo Garden, so we headed over to meet a couple of them there and check it out.
Meanwhile, this whole time, Oubliette had stayed the night in Idaho Falls and tried taking some fucked up “shortcut” through Montana or something the next day. It ended up taking them and insane amount of time to get to Seattle, so they weren’t going to be joining us.
After we ate, we headed over to the show to check the venue out and wait for The Dead Unknown to arrive. Bill and Clint had met The Dead Unknown when they went on tour with 78 Days After Death and remained pretty good friends. Any time they played Salt Lake we helped them out, and any time we were up around the Northwest, they came out to support, or better yet, play the show with us. We got to the venue, a decent sized place that was way nicer than we were used to.
In addition to This Time Tomorrow, there was another local band on the bill called Hell Promise. The sound guy asked us to backline the stage, since we were headlining, but we thought that was kind of a silly idea—especially when we saw Hell Promise roll up looking like fucking rock stars. We asked them if they’d headline instead, since this is their hometown and all, and they reluctantly agreed. They were kind of dicks about it, but at least they said yes.
The show started and there was only a handful of people there. We asked the locals if all the shows were like this (hoping we weren’t going to find out we were playing opposite another big show like last time) and they told us that if we weren’t a two-step band or a fast hardcore band, no one really cared. All the bands played good but it was still a really awkward show for everyone. We watched Hell Promise play and then started packing all our stuff up.
I had picked up a box of vegan cupcakes from PCC earlier in the day and was eating one by the van talking to the girl that sang for This Time Tomorrow. I offered her a cupcake but she looked a little hesitant.
“Are they vegan?” she asked.
“Well,” I replied, “we are a vegan band.”
She just stared at me.
“So, yes. They’re vegan.”
“Oh, then sure.”
She took one and started eating it, but after eating half of it, she stopped.
“Wait, I don’t eat refined sugar. Are they all natural?”
I just stared at her and her already half-eaten cupcake.
“They’re all-delicious,” I replied.
“Okay,” she said and popped the rest in her mouth to finish it off.
After that, The Dead Unknown dudes jumped in their van to head back to Portland. A few of them had to work the next day, but were playing with us again down there the next night. Oubliette headed out with some of the This Time Tomorrow people and we went back to Heather’s place to crash.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
July 12, 2005 - Idaho Falls, ID
Beep Beep Beep.Beep Beep Beep.
“Hey George, does your phone have a ‘silent’ function?” asked Brook.
“Yeah, but I can’t hear it when it’s on silent,” replied George.
And so began our ten day tour with a fill in singer, an ever rotating bass player and a band that had never been on tour before and was in the middle of five weeks that weren’t going so well. We’ve never had the best luck on the road, so if there was any way things could get worse for everyone, we were just the band to make it happen.
Idaho Falls has always been good to us, and it’s always a good time when we go up there. The turnout is always decent (for a city of that size) and the people always made us feel right at home, so we try to go up there as often as we can. Of course, now 3 or 4 of the guys live in Salt Lake, but that doesn’t make it any less fun in Idaho.
The first show of the tour is always a little sloppy, and this was no exception. We’d never played in front of an audience with Brook singing and George hadn’t played with us outside of practice either. Dan Fletcher was still technically our bass player, but he decided that he needed to grow up, be responsible and not miss any classes at school. Therefore, he couldn’t make it. No matter though, George knew our songs pretty well, and could at least pretend he knew what was going on even if he did get lost.
The show went well enough, but we were a little sloppy. I don’t think anyone minded though, because we still brought the mosh and sometimes that’s all that matters. We decided against spending the night in IF and driving through the night to Seattle. We had a day off the next day and just wanted to spend it up there hanging out and we figured Seattle would be a little bit more fun than Idaho—no offense Idaho.With that, we said our goodbyes and piled in the van for the 12 hour trek to the Great Northwest.
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