Hickoids (and a bit o' Harvey McLaughlin Trio) 2019Tour Begins

So, off we go. Friday, August 2nd. First stop: Home Sweet Home in Manhattan, home base to my old friend Jonathan Toubin's New York Night Train dance parties.

So, the set up was this: Jeff and Patrick flew to BWI airport and went to Max Jeffers' place in Annapolis to pick up his van, along with some equipment for our dates (drums, amps, etc.). Cody had already gone up on Tuesday to hang with his girlfriend in NYC. That left Rice, Tom, and yours truly bringing up the rear, flying into La Guardia and on to the gig. Of course, as air travel is unpredictable, our connecting flight in Dallas departed late, about 45 minutes.

Still, we made it to La Guardia only about 35 minutes late, but that still meant we had to hurry to get to the gig. The music needed to be done by 11, and we were getting into the airport about 8:15. So , the only workable solution was to take some sort of Uber/taxi directly to the gig. A gentleman near the airport exit doors asked if we needed transpo, and I immediately said "yes," figuring it would be overpriced. I didn't care - let's get there. And we did. He hustled us over there quickly. I won't write here what the price was, but we got there just in time.

Luckily, our borrowed van was parked in front of the club, so our luggage could be stowed quickly. The opening band, Teenage Cave Girl, had just finished. The drummer playing with Animal Show (a two-piece this night for some reason) was struggling with setting up our borrowed kit (from Bob of Western Star), and I knew nothing of it, either. But we got the kit set up after a bit, and the makeshift Animal Show played about 30 minutes.

As we were getting set up. Rice discovered the bass rig didn't work, so he had to be patched into the soundboard directly and sharing a channel with Patrick. We couldn't hear him, he couldn't hear himself, and yet, audience members seemed to hear him fine, from what I heard later.

We didn't start until 11, but we were allowed to go 'till midnight. Crowd response was fantastic, and I thought the gig was a good start, although Rice obviously didn't think so. It was fun being able to play in front of my old friend.

Immediately after we finished, the dance party began, and people crowded every bit of the room, including the stage, making strike and load out a challenge, to say the least. Hard to complain, when everybody's dancing and in a fun mood. A couple of our folks weren't in the best frame of mind, but we got it all in the van. And then it was off to Atlantic City.

Uh, let's see....how do I put this? We were staying in the Harrah's casino in what were admittedly very nice rooms. But the clientele there is something almost unbelieveable. Take your average Jerry Springer Show guest and factorialize that by ten. Seriously. Dudes strutting around, bumping into you without a care (and almost knocking you over)....women stuffed into revealing dresses at least three sizes too small....and at 4 am, which is usually when we'd return from a gig, swarms of them. My jaw was probably open during every long walk to the hotel room. Wow. Many of these specimens probably voted, too. Jesus. I'll pick up with tomorrow's activities in the next post.

Drumming, the Great Eye Collagen Experiment, Upcoming Travels, and Apollo 11

Hello! Feeling especially good today.....yesterday's gig was rather special. I'll have to elaborate.

Recently, Rice and I began backing up Patrick Pena, otherwise known as Harvey McLaughlin, in a trio designed for him to open shows on the upcoming Hickoids European tour. What I at first thought might be a bit of a chore has turned into anything but. I'm having a blast with this, and I suspect Rice is, too. The songs are simple enough to not be too difficult to remember, and since Patrick is playing piano (and singing), the space opened up without a guitar is being duly filled by Rice and myself. What this means is any fill or nuance I throw into a song isn't drowned out by constant barrage of guitar. I've never played in a piano trio before, and this is an incredible revelation.

I suppose a big part of being in any sort of artistry is knowing that what you're creating is actually reaching someone, whether they like it or not. And maybe, just maybe, I hadn't thought much about this before. The Hickoids, as much as I like it, has two (or even occasionally three) guitars blaring away, making any sort of subtlety impossible. You might laugh that I'm using the word "subtlety" in the same sentence as the word "Hickoids." But this stuff is important. It's what separates the great bands from the merely good ones. It does make me wish the Hickoids would rehearse and play with some of this in mind. Many times, I've thought "if I were a guitar player, I wouldn't play constantly." Larger professional bands that I've seen play (or at least video of) take this into account. One of my faves when I was younger was The Tubes, and at their peak, they had two guitars, two keyboards, and two drummers. If you watch video of them from this period (roughly '77-'80), the guitars and keyboards are not all playing all the time. And the drummers (Mingo Lewis playing percussion mostly) worked in a complementary way as well. The Hickoids probably will never work on this, largely due to its current membership.

But back to this trio. We played three shows during our Memorial Day run recently, but those were all shaky affairs, largely due to Rice and myself not knowing the material through and through yet. And, even after yesterday, I can say we're not 100% there yet, but we're oh so close. And yesterday's gig was one of the most fun I've played in my life. It just felt like complete connectivity between the three of us, which inspired me to push some things even further....percussion, off-time accents, etc....and we hadn't even rehearsed since before I had my eye procedure (oh yeah, gotta write about that). I ran through the set several times during the week at home, so I was reasonably fresh for the show; I think Rice did the same. We're playing later today at an Austin Music Rooms party, a show I don't expect much from except to stretch our muscles a bit, but I'm still looking forward to it. I feel refreshed as a drummer.

So, yes, the eye procedure. The Corneal Collagen Crosslinking, Epi-on variety. The procedure itself was rather easy to get through, although there was indeed pain that night. The tech's suggestion that I sleep as much as possible that day was heeded, and that helped tremendously. By the next morning, most of the pain was gone, and a lot of healing had already taken place. I had the bandage contact lenses taken off five days later, and now we play the waiting game. So far, I don't notice a huge change in my vision. It might be slightly sharper, but time will be the final arbiter of this. According to others, I'll know more in a few months. At least, with the promise of future cataract removal, I know this won't have been for naught.

And so we leave for NYC in a couple of weeks (a bit less, really). Two Hickoids are leaving earlier for Baltimore, in order to grab our friends' Western Star's van and equipment. Cody is going up earlier, too, leaving Rice, Tom, and I to fly up together. We'll then be picked up by the folks with the van. My old friend Jonathan has set up a couple of shows in Manhattan and Brooklyn, and we're playing Baltimore and DC as well. The I-95 tour. After a few days, we fly to Madrid to begin that adventure. Michelle is flying to Madrid as well and should reach Madrid an hour before we do. We'll have to figure out transpo from there. Which will occupy much of my time the next week or so. I'm glad Michelle's coming over. She has September and October trips planned for Turkey and Egypt (third time!), so my time with her will be little over the next few months. Waaaah!! I'm very happy she's getting to travel to places she's wanted to visit, though. And who knows what the political future will hold? Gotta travel while you can.

And, lastly for today, Apollo 11. As you're no doubt aware, the 50th anniversary of the initial moon landing and walk is upon us. A couple of weeks ago, I saw the documentary "Apollo 11," and was surprised by how moving I found it. I watched it again on the anniversary last night. The space program of the late sixties has a special place in my heart and always will. When I was a kid, these guys were my rock stars. My pre-teen walls were covered with astronauts' pictures, large photos of Earth to Moon trajectory patterns, and depictions of all the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo missions (up to that time, I suppose). When the moon landing and walk happened on July 20, 1969, we were visiting my mom's friend Joan and her husband Willis (who later introduced me to golf, ha!). I still remember his words to me when Armstrong took the first step onto the moon's surface. "I just want you to remember this, Lance, when down the road, and I'm not around anymore, who you watched this first step on the moon with." Willis was a good man. He passed away in 1980. My reaction to watching the sheer brilliance of "Apollo 11" surprised me. And made me happy. What a different time.

Until later!

He's Back, Folks

Over two months since I've written?? Goodness. I had no idea it'd been that long. Wow. Well, a lot's happened, but nothing too earth-shattering. Maybe one or two things.

Band shows. Yes, they've been occurring. More Swishbucklers than anything else, really, but still.... SXSW was pretty decent this year. Four shows, four days. Not bad. Let's see if I can get through all this in an almost linear fashion.

In the month of February, the Pocket FishRmen had shows two Fridays in a row. February 8th we played the Nomad, always a favorite venue, and what I remember of the show is good. Cannot remember who we played with, though. Probably All Monsters Attack. I only remember two drummers being at the show, though. Hmm.....oh, yes! Sexy Finger Champs. There we go. Yes, very fun show. We'd drawn the last slot, but enough folks stayed around to make it an overall good time. (Funny how quickly I'm forgetting these shows and line-ups. I don't know if that's a good sign or not.) February 15th, we played at the Limelight (formerly Wacky's, I remembered!) in San Antonio. That  show turned out much better than I feared. It was Patrick's birthday show, so the line-up was Harvey McLaughlin, us, and the Sandworms, another band of Patrick's that plays infrequently, as in almost never. The audience built steadily through the night, and all was great. We even got all individually asked by this young woman there if we would play her swingers' party sometime in the summer. We'll see if that comes to fruition, but I think we all agreed to it if it involves enough money.

Now, one thing that I didn't mention yet. When I was driving to the February 8th show, I noticed the temperature gauge in my HHR didn't move from the stone cold position, which indicated that most likely the thermostat was stuck open. I made it home fine, but after discussing the situation with a few folks, Matt Silaski insisted on coming over to help me change the thermostat. I readily agreed. He's a great dude, and it's a job I didn't feel like tackling all by myself. So, he did. The thermostat was truly trashed, and together, we had it changed out within a couple of hours. Without losing much coolant, even. All was good, all the way through the trek to San Antonio on the 15th.

On Friday, the 22nd, Michelle and I did our frequent grabbing of Chinese food before she went to work, but I took a side trip to get some gas at a station near the house. Right as I was pulling into the station, a bunch of warning lights came on the dashboard, and the ol' HHR started running as if it were missing a cylinder. Despite going ahead and putting some gas in the car, I thought this might be it. I'd been waiting for the signal to go on to a new vehicle for awhile (largely with the "I'll help you" urging from my mother), and this was the final straw. I limped the car home and immediately began the search for a new one. I had Michelle take me to get a rental the next morning, as I searched.

The rental car was a 2018 Hyundai Santa Fe Sport, and I liked it quite a bit. The 2019 Santa Fe (no Sport) was a model I was looking at already, and this was the early favorite. I also looked at the Honda CR-V, Ford Flex, and the Toyota Rav4. Either the size just wasn't right, or there were other issues. The Santa Fe was the one. Plus, I just liked the dealership. They didn't pressure me at all, and kept lowering the offer without me even griping about anything. The whole experience was as painless as it could be. I bought the one I test drove. Had it by that following Tuesday. Which was good, because, due to an impending band Mardi Gras trip, Michelle and I had to bump our anniversary dinner to Wednesday night (our actual anniversary was that Friday). I had a new car to take us in! First new car I've ever owned. Hope it lasts a long, long time. I plan on babying it as much as I can.

But, of course, fetishing my new car was short-lived, as I had to take off on this aforementioned band trip. The Hickoids/Swishbucklers were going to play Louisiana around Mardi Gras. I say "around," because we actually left after playing Lundi Gras night, but hey, close enough. Cody wasn't with us for the first couple of nights of this trip, so it was Swishbucklers and Hickoids (with Tommy Rowsey on guitar) on the first night in Lafayette (Friday, with We Are The Asteroid), and Swishbucklers the second night in New Orleans (at the Saturn Bar). The Lafayette show was tons o' fun, although I don't think the Hickoids were at our best. We hadn't had much time to prep with Tommy on guitar. I still had a blast at the show. Saturday night turned out pretty well, although Dave Catching's band played before us, and the crowd had dwindled before we hit the stage....or floor. At least, we got to park on St. Claude, right out front.

Being Mardi Gras and all, we were staying Biloxi, about an hour plus away. We had already checked into our hotels there before driving back for the show. And, then it was back to Biloxi, to bunk for the few hours before the next day.

Sunday morning, I felt like garbage. Not sure what was up, probably just lack of sleep, but I felt awful. We were expected at a party in New Orleans that all the folks we were involved with were going to be at. Some sort of chefs' party. Good food, in other words. And boy, did the food perk me up.  I felt better almost immediately after eating. Sometimes, the fix is very simple. And it was a good thing I felt better, as both bands had a show in Hattiesburg that night. After we picked up Cody from the airport. Yes, he flew in for the last couple of shows. We played at a pretty nice bar there with a band called Space Trash. I fell in love with this band almost immediately. Not the most polished, not the most dynamic, but I think they'll get there. The ideas were certainly there, pretty original, and they were great folks. I wish them well.

We got back to our hotel at a decent time, and I finally got some decent sleep. Which helped for the next day, most definitely. One downside, though. I got bitten several times by bed bugs during the night. Yes, you read that right. My first time for this (I think). Tom was staying on the couch in the room, and he was bitten as well. Patrick was in the same bed as me this night (he'd been at the casino the first night, pre-Cody), but he didn't get bitten at all. Something was up. I had checked the bed for bugs, as I usually do, but can't vouch for how thoroughly I checked. There will be more on this development as this post progresses.

Monday, it was back to New Orleans. We had some time to ourselves before the show, and I spent some time in the Quarter (trying to dodge parades!), before heading to our show, which was at a bar called Gasa Gasa, uptown. I ended up walking all the way there. Wasn't a problem, although after making the trek, I wonder if there weren't a couple of areas locals would have said "you didn't walk through there, did you?!"" I ate at a burger joint near the bar and showed up a little ahead of schedule. And Gasa Gasa was a great time. The Hickoids shared the stage with Dave Catching's band and the Gools, the same two bands the 'bucklers played Saturn Bar with. We had to get a drum set together, as the house kit the bar supposedly had was pieces at best. Well, the drums were fine, but the hardware was pretty much non-existent. Anyway, great show. Great friends there (special appearance by Jacky Morgan!). And we got in the van and drove home. Yes, all the way. I picked up the mid-Louisiana shift for the second straight time.

Let's see, what's next? Well, I got home, and Tom was convinced we'd been bitten by bed bugs in Biloxi. At that time, I still thought it was a couple of very large mosquitoes. Once I looked at the bites online, I realized he was right. So, I quickly washed all my clothes, and after seeing some sort of small bug under my backpack, washed and dryed that as well. I told Michelle what had happened, but since nothing of mine other than my backpack had been near the bed, was hoping for the best. I still thought we might have brought in some strays from somewhere else, as Tom and I had walked around the area quite a bit Sunday morning. I suppose we'll never know. But I did tell Michelle to be vigilant, although I thought we were in the clear.

The following Friday, the Swishbucklers had a show at the Brick at Blue Star in San Antonio. While I like the place itself okay, it's not the best place to have bands play. It's one of these multi-use things, with several businesses and yet not much room for parking. After unloading (which you can't even do near the door), I had to park about four-tenths of a mile away. Sucky. Don't know if I'll agree to shows there anymore. Or so I write. Ha! Anyway, the show itself was fine, although the makeshift stage they had was somewhat rickety and a bit small. Still, we had a good crowd. Sex Pump played after us, and I thought they were great, but the crowd had started to dissipate by then. The opening band....I forgot the name....we played with them at Paper Tiger before....was especially great, playing punk covers from the "glory days." Great deep set list.

The following week was SXSW....and I think I'll stop this post here. There will be more to come on the subject of bed bugs (did they, or did they not have them?), and of course, rock and roll. And other things. I've missed writing. More to come.

A Week and a Return to the Grind

Hello, fair reader. I haven't turned this laptop on in a week, so I know it's been a week since I've written. So, what's up?

Last week was "back to work" for us gubbimint employees. Monday went much smoother than I thought it would. I figured after five weeks off our computer systems would be F.U.B.B. (thank you, Wishbone Ash), but to my surprise, no. I signed on with the usual effort and all seemed good. There was a small problem with updating my GERS password, but I'll deal with that later. (I know that last sentence might as well have been "I snortered my lubiar, next to the myutra" to the non-government employee.) So, work was resumed. Not a whole lot of work, mind you, as our projects schedule is pretty much fried now. And that was fine, as I managed to get sick during the latter part of the week, and having something meaningful to do during the day might have been a bridge too far. I'm still feeling a bit ill but have been better the last couple of days.

Tuesday night, the Hickoids had our first rehearsal in a while. We started going over ideas for recording at Dale Watson's studio in Memphis, which will happen in May. Danny Grace will guest, and it should be a blast. Of course, Tuesday night is when I began to feel ill, so by the end of practice, I was just wanting to get out of there. Still, we accomplished.....something, I think.

By Thursday, I felt terrible. I guess a low-grade cold had finally taken hold. Michelle had the same thing a couple of weeks prior; it just took its sweet time getting to me. Thursday night, Pocket FishRmen rehearsed, but up until three hours or so before rehearsal time, I didn't think I was going to make it. But I did. The way the rehearsal room is set up now, I only have to replace the snare drum and kick pedal, and I'm ready to play. Very easy. If I would have had extensive setup to do, I would have cancelled. And I'm glad we rehearsed; it went really well. I went back to the hammered double kick during the "We Kill Evil" chorus for the first time in years. The band (and I) preferred more of a tribal approach during the choruses, but after years of trial and error, I never came up with a way of playing that which felt right. I just went back to the double kick metal part. Sounded fine to me. It's manly, too. And after practice, I felt somewhat better. The cold has lingered since then, and I'm still not fully well....but close.

Wednesday, I received the Severin bundle which was technically my birthday present but had been held up by a manufacturing delay. I'm still going through all of that, but damn, is it nice! The bundle included Blu rays of "All the Colors of the Dark" (a Sergio Martino classic), "All the Colors of Giallo" (a feature-length documentary on...guess what?), a quartet of cheap American Mondo movies, and "Skinner," a 1993 horror movie that...well, it's interesting. There were also two enamel pins, one of Sergio Martino, and one of Edwige Fenech. The quality of these surprised me....they're heavy suckers! There was also a t-shirt of "All the Colors of the Dark" characters, created by my buddy Craig Merritt's company, Pallbearer Press. And.....black gloves, so you can dress as a giallo character yourself. I would have left off the "All the Colors of the Dark" logo, but hey, they fit my gnarled old drummer hands!

The "All the Colors of the Dark" release includes two cuts of the movie, a DVD version, and the soundtrack on a separate CD. There is a commentary by Diabolique Magazine's/Daughter of Darkness Kat Ellinger, and several other interview features (none with Edwige Fenech, though.....boo).

The "All the Colors of Giallo" release includes four hours of giallo trailers with optional commentary by the aforementioned Ms. Ellinger. I'm about 60% through those now, and man, is that some entertainment! I won't spoil it here, but Ms. Ellinger makes an observation about Lucio Fulci during a "Don't Torture a Duckling" trailer that would have caused a full spit take from me if I would have had liquid in my mouth upon hearing it. Hilarious! There is also a DVD containing a number of Krimi (German crime films, which largely pre-date and inspired the giallo genre) trailers; I haven't watched any of those yet. There is also a third disc, which is a CD sampler of soundtrack music.

The American Mondo collection contains these four films: "Mondo Bizarro," "Mondo Freudo," "Ecco," and "The Forbidden." I've watched "Mondo Bizarro" and about 40% of "Mondo Freudo." Both of those contain optional commentary from Johnny Legend and now-deceased memorabilia collector Eric Caidin, which must have been recorded at least ten years ago. I watched about half of "Mondo Bizarro" with the commentary on, and I'd suggest doing that. Johnny, as a scenester in Hollywood during the 60s knows a lot of the locations and a lot about the people involved in the making of these movies. For the uninitiated, these films were inspired by the Italian Mondo craze of the 60s ("Mondo Cane," etc.), but whereas those movies largely had "real" footage (I suppose that might be up for debate a bit), these American Mondo movies were largely the opposite. "Mondo Bizarro" closes with what is supposed to be white slave trade going on in Saudi Arabia.....with the hills of Los Angeles clearly visible behind the setting. It's rather hilarious, especially with Legend's commentary. When the legendary Vito of the Hollywood scene appears, I remembered I'd seen shots from this in a Zappa/Mothers documentary. Legend is certain that some Mothers are in the movie in other places. There is also a nice video interview featurette on the disc that documents the.....documentaries. I still haven't popped in the "Ecco"/"The Forbidden" disc yet.

"Skinner" was a trip. A film directed by Heidi Fleiss' boyfriend when that scandal broke, starring Ted Raimi, Ricki Lake, and Traci Lords. What else do you want to know? In many ways, it's very reminiscent of "The Silence of the Lambs," but at the same time, I think it's its own movie. I was surprised at how well made it was, especially since it seems very low budget. But it's effective. I'll watch it again, I feel certain. Creepy. The KNB guys worked on the special effects, but one of the special features explains that they weren't there on set; they just sent the stuff over to be used. Nice practical effects, though.

Another thing occupying time is that I'm continuing to transfer old cassettes to mp3 format. I finished the Lather transfers and have begun the Puffy Brutha Man transfers. So far, I haven't found the "Pump First Then Pay" cassette amongst many others I have, but I still have the original master tape of the recording. I need to get that transferred, and now I have more motivation. So far, the sound quality of the tapes hasn't been as bad as I had feared. The tapes (so far) have been in pretty good shape. Whew. I thought most of them might turn to powder when I started the transfer process. So far, okay. It's a slow process, though, being real-time conversion. And I have to pretty much babysit the transfer. It'll be a while before I'm done with this.

And that's the report......two more weeks of work. Maybe more.....who knows?? End, cold, end!

I Suppose You'd Call This a Full Week (and Weekend)

Sunday, glorious Sunday. Other than this blog post, I'm not doing much else today. And I've earned it.

I had a full week of development at work, and that following a weekend where I, more or less, worked the entire time....at least through monitoring and updating. And, of course, what should happen Friday? Another one of these government shutdowns. Which means I'm out of work until the budget situation is resolved. I won't even go into that much, you know the details. It would be nice to know how long this will take, so I could maybe make some plans.....but that's an impossible task. In a way, I hope it takes awhile....although I don't want struggling friends to be out of work.

This weekend was filled with a couple of shows, both out of town, one for the Hickoids and one for the Hickoids offshoot, the Swishbucklers. The Hickoids show was Friday in Houston, with an all-star line up of friends, at one of the last shows to take place at Fitzgerald's. Fitzgerald's has been sold to a developer and is about to be razed for the future, as they say. Shame. I can't say I have a deep, emotional tie to the place, but I have played there several times over the last 30 years. Oddly, I feel more of a tie to Rudyard's. But anyway....

The Hickoids' set was one of the roughest times I've had playing in a while. It seemed like nothing on my drum kit would stay put or work right. The most major thing was that my kick drum pedal kept sliding to the left and right while playing, no matter how hard I clamped the sucker onto the rim of the kick drum. Dash Rip Rock had used my drums prior to us playing, and I wondered if that guy's pedal had oozed some oil onto the rim. I don't have this problem normally, so something had changed, for sure. In the middle of this, the general bounciness of the riser kept moving my rack tom down, which would cause it to catch a stick occasionally and flip it majestically in the air. During "Best Liquor Store" that happened no fewer than three times. The mic stand next to me kept sliding toward me, sometimes catching my shoulder and causing problems. At one point, while playing and after nudging the mic stand back to its proper place, I turned to hit my right-side crash and broke a stick at that moment. This was pretty much the scenario for the second half of our set. As we began our last number, "Brontosaurus," for whatever reason (and I've NEVER had this happen in 40+ years of playing) the hi-hat stand's pedal hooks came out of the holes they fit in, so the pedal was fairly uncontrollable for that whole song. And the kick drum pedal started sliding again. I kept trying to move it back as we played, and at one point completely lost where we were in the song. I looked up to see everybody looking at me. Harrumph! I cued some way to get back into the fast part of the song, and mostly everybody followed me. What a fucking nightmare. After leaving the stage at the end of the set, I immediately went backstage and yelled "FUCK!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs, startling the relaxing Beaumonts. I hope they're okay.

It seems everybody enjoyed the show, so I'm happy about that. I was not happy at all, but I'm just that way. I don't like letting the band or the show down. My bandmates seemed undisturbed about it all, so that's good. For the record, Smitty had been sick as a dog for a couple of days, and he pulled off not one, but two performances that night (also with the Texas Biscuit Bombs). I was pretty amazed by that. Man of steel, there.

Last night in San Antonio was a different story, playing-wise anyway. The Swishbucklers took the stage in between Dr. Green Dreams (from Bend, OR!) and We Are The Asteroid. We had a pretty killer set. Tommy Rowsey (original Swishbuckler) has been playing with us again, and he's getting better integrated into it all. I had a great time overall. Dr. Green Dreams rocked us and We Are The Asteroid....jeez, what can you say there? They just get better all the time. And they started off great! Just a fun night. Thank you, Jerry Clayworth, for putting that together. Jerry also talked with Michelle about the possibility of doing a burlesque/bellydance event there. Could be cool......Michelle really liked the room.

All this with allergies from hell!!!!!!

ACLF 2018, Round Two

(Hmm....let's see how well I remember all this. I'm writing this a couple of days after returning from an immediately-post-ACLF Italian vacation.)

So, the second set of performances for ACLF for this drummer were on a Friday and Sunday. Saturday was a day off.

Friday night was a double-duty (both Pocket FishRmen and Hickoids) night at the ABGB, one of my favorite places to play in Austin. Many of my bandmates aren't too big on it, the crowd can be very hit or miss, but it does have a bit of a built-in audience of food-and-beer patrons, and there's no admission charge. Also, the staff there is top-notch, plying you with drinks and pizza constantly. And.....there's a house drum kit. What more could I want?

The night began with Jean Caffeine, and she and her band played a great set, culminating in Jean getting behind the drum kit for a couple of songs. Harvey McLaughlin was up next, and he and his band played their usual great set. Harvey (Patrick) did not play drums, however. Hickoids were up next. We began with a few of our "regulars" and then Frontier Dan hit the stage with us. I love playing with Dan, there's no other way to put it. He's hilarious, and watching Jeff and him try to one-up each other in "frontmanship" is equally funny. I commented later that it's like backing up Costello and Costello, no straight man. Pocket FishRmen finished the night with a good set, although some people had left by then. The whole show was going up against a reunited Skatenigs show at Come and Take It, and several of our friends were either there or in bands playing that long-rostered show. I still had a great time and thought we all pulled off quality entertainment. What else can you want? (I need to stop ending paragraphs with questions.)

Saturday night, as mentioned earlier, was a night off for me, but I went to Lost Well for awhile to represent and support. I saw Z-Pocalypse (rockin' kiddos from San Antonio), the Me-Thinks (oh, god), and Texacala's new band. I bailed toward the end of Tex's set, as Michelle had stayed home....we were close to our Vacatiano Italiano.

Sunday, early evening, the Hickoids, A Pony Named Olga, and Bigfoot Chester played the Planet K parking lot in support of a Davy Jones art opening at South Pop. Our set again featured Frontier Dan, but for a shorter time this time. Great set overall, and I bought a piece of Davy's art I can't pick up until December. We said quick goodbyes to everybody before leaving, but we had to be at the airport in the morning. And I still had packing to do. Another ACLF in the can.

ACLF 2018, Round One

Last night concluded the first weekend of our annual Austin Corn Lovers Fiesta. So far, so good. At least, for me. I can't say the same for others (equipment issues), but the turnouts have been good.  Let's recap:

Friday night's shindig was at Empire Control Room, on 7th between Red River and the frontage road of 35. Not a place I like to frequent anymore (parking! downtown! aaaggghh!), but I got very lucky and parked adjacent to the loading door for the club. And for, what is now in Austin, a minimal fee. Adrienne Lake, who used to book Spider House, has moved to this club during the year, and we've played here a couple of times as a result. Despite the Empire place being okay overall, I hope she finds another home soonish. One away from downtown Austin.

Eightball Aitken (from Australia) opened the show, and this is perhaps the third time we've shared a stage with him. He does the one-man show, playing guitar, singing, stomping and tambourining but is also really, really funny. The songs are good, he's hilarious, and I always enjoy his show.

We played next - I was able to set up before Eightball played, and my drum set was being used the entire night. Our set was, how should I put this, a marvel of consistent rhythms and vocals, with the top end....um....inconsistent at best. Tom was fine, but Cody was in rare form. He'd had an 11-hour drive from the panhandle that day, in addition to one eye being almost swollen shut from allergies. And he'd, and I know you'll find this hard to believe, imbibed in some alcohol beforehand. The set quickly became a bunch of the "fuck it" numbers we like to pull out - "Take it Easy," "China Grove," etc. I smelled Cody's amp frying about 2/3 of the way through the set, and he stumbled over to Tom's amp and plugged into it for awhile. Well, that's what I think happened anyway. Cody had already "taken a knee" earlier in the night. With a thud, too. But that was before the amp-burning thing happened. I was told later that the set was indeed entertaining, but not especially together at times. Still, fun.

Ed Hamell, otherwise known as Hamell on Trial, played after us and the crowd had swelled by then. I was never much of a fan of his when he played at Electric Lounge in the 90s, but I'm coming around. Or starting to get "it." Whatever it is, I'm starting to dig it. He might be the last of the beatniks. Amongst his ramblings, he added a quick "A Rapist is Going to the Supreme Court" to laughter and applause. Unfortunately, before his set began, he was using one of Jeff's amps, and that amp fried before he began. So, I think we were a couple of amps down Friday night. But take that with a grain of salt; a drummer's writing this. Whatever Ed ended up using, the sound was less than stellar.

Next up was Slobberbone, from Denton. They have been playing more shows recently after being the toast of Denton in the 90s and early 2000s. We've done a couple of gigs with them in Denton. Again, great crowd, great set. Folks were there specifically to see them and knew their songs well. One issue, though.....their drummer arrived late (not sure if he was just late to the stage or what), and it pushed their start time late, so they didn't finish until about 12:45.

And yep, Cunto! had the last slot and hit it about 1:10. They were fun as always, although Chris Hall was fairly inebriated. I had to give him drumsticks, as he'd only brought.....one. I still enjoyed their set, although the club had lost patrons by then. I felt bad for them having to go on late; this was almost a replay of another show we'd done a couple of months back where they got stuck last. I feel a make-up is in order soon.

I got my drums torn down and packed. Thanks to Evan and others, I got loaded up and was on the road by 1:57. This is important, because the club sits right by the corridor tons of people use to leave downtown at the 2:00 mark. I wanted to be gone by then, and I was. Patrick was there to help Jeff pack up, so I took advantage of that situation. I was home by maybe 2:20. Not bad.

Last night was the second salvo at the White Horse. I always like playing the White Horse, mainly due to the house drum kit. Not the greatest kit, but it's dependable. Once I'm parked, the rest is easy. This night, Michelle went with me, and we needed to eat first, so I got a spot just down the street from the club. The maximum parking I could buy took me to 11:51 in a spot metered until midnight. Would I be able to skate the remaining nine minutes? I hoped so. There was a party at Billy Bishop's Leona Gallery, on 12th street, but we were parked far enough away to where we couldn't easily stop by there, so we decided to eat and hang for the whole show. We went to Tamale House East, which was okay, but about as far removed from a classic Tamale House as you can imagine. I am not a fan of "new Austin" restaurant food. It's impossible to find unpretentious food in the city. Sometimes, when I read food listings in these places' menus, I suddenly understand Republicans. I'll just put it that way.

We headed back to the White Horse and got there just as Mean Motor Scooter was starting. They're from Fort Worth and a particular favorite of Tom's. And they're a really fun, sort of garage-y band, without too much of the whole "genre insistence" standpoint you often get with bands like that. I dug 'em. I had a good chat with the drummer later in the night. Hopefully, we'll do a few more things with them. And there was a fairly decent crowd while they played; sometimes the opening slot at the White Horse ACLF night is a bit barren.

Next up was ACLF regulars Churchwood, who always deliver. I still don't envy Eric, the drummer who replaced Julien. He's doing fine, and I suppose you could argue they have more nuance now, if they're somewhat quieter now overall. Joe always entertains the crowd. At one point, he grabbed me and other folks and had us do a round dance circle.

Western Star followed, and they were full throttle. This was the best set I've seen them play. They have a new bass player who has cemented everything. By the end of their set, everyone was really into it, up front and, well you know the jargon. In the back of my mind, though, I wonder how long until Max cuts his hair and just goes full rock idol. I may have to refer back to this blog at some point if that comes true.

We were next and were mostly a whole different animal than the previous night. Great set, although Tom's equipment started faltering at the end. And it was his birthday! Peggy brought a cake with sparklers on it. Tom reacted in his usual somewhat annoyed, dismissive way, followed by a big grin. Funny guy. I think he's 49 now. In human years, anyway. Hope his equipment's okay. I don't understand the problems, he takes such good care of his stuff. (sic) Wade Driver showed up but didn't join us on stage. Always good to see him.

A Pony Named Olga, playing as "The Prussian Pompadours" for reasons of international intrigue, followed us. What a fun band, as always. "Keko" has to be one of my favorite drummers to watch, of all time. He stands up, playing a kick drum that's behind him by stomping on a kick pedal in reverse. He has a couple of drums in front of him and a cymbal and some percussion. His snare drum has a strap on it, so he can wear it and march through the audience. You just smile the whole time. Heini is always entertaining, and Lloyd carries the good looks and can stand on his upright bass with the best of 'em. Heini fixed an amp last night, too! Thanks, Heini! On a side note, Keko's from Italy and gave Michelle and me some advice concerning our upcoming trip.

Closing out the night were the Beaumonts, who, as always, had the crowd grinning from ear to ear. They played my new favorite "Not As Cool As Jesus," and I believe it was the first time Michelle had heard it. About 1:45, we grabbed my stuff and made a beeline for the door, as again, I wanted to escape the downtown area before 2:00. We did and got home at a reasonable time. Reasonable for us, hah! Overall, a great night. Saw many, many great friends. I feel damned lucky to still be doing this. May it continue a while longer......

Until next time.....have a smoothie......I just did.

The Hickoids Go West

Hello, blog, my old friend. I've come to write in you again.

Time for a recap of the last few weeks. The Hickoids returned Monday morning, August 27th, from a western states and British Columbia tour. Of all the low-budget tours I've been on over the last 30 years or so, I have to say this was perhaps the smoothest one overall. The odds on these kinds of tours are always stacked against you, for various reasons, but we came out of this one virtually unscathed. I shall commence:

The tour began (after a couple of warm-up shows in Austin and San Antonio; see previous blog entry) in Fort Worth on Thursday, August 9th. And we hit an immediate snag. The plan was for San Antonians Jeff, Tom, and Carl (our merch and video aide) to pick up Cody in San Marcos, pick me up in Manchaca, grab Rice in Austin, and we would then head north. I got a call from Jeff about 20 minutes after the first group left San Antonio; the battery and alternator were both fried in the van, due to a loose connection. They were being towed back to San Antonio for Jeff's mechanic friend to fix up quickly. The battery was new, but apparently not installed properly. Hoo boy. In the meantime, Cody was going to be dropped off at my house, and I had to drive into Austin to get Rice, as he had no easy way to get down to my place. That way, the SA Express would only have one stop before heading north. At this point, I wasn't sure we'd make the Fort Worth show.

But we did. And with about an hour to spare. Gotta hand it to Smitty's cool driving hand. The show went well, although it was a strange bill. My old friend Henry Vasquez's band Blood of the Sun was the middle band, and Mos Generator opened it up. So, we were basically closing an otherwise heavy rock bill. After setting up, I caught some of BOTS's set, and it was pretty stellar. I hadn't seen this line-up yet. Our set was okay, but some of the crowd started to drift away at the end. Typical for a Thursday night, though. It was good to see some old friends from the Honky days there, too.

Following the show, we headed to The Old Pancake House, a place we've visited before, for some sustenance, accompanied by our buddy "Hush Puppy" (who almost never "hushes"). Rice, a devout - and we were about to find out how devout - vegetarian, ordered some sort of German pancake that has its last preparation step done at the table. Fancy. Read on.

There being no rest for the wicked, especially the Hickoids, meant an immediate overnight drive to Santa Fe. About 45 minutes into the trip, the van, driven by Jeff, suddenly pulled over. I had my earbuds in and wasn't sure what was going on. Rice bolted out of the back seat and finished hurling onto the ground from the van. He had apparently already begun purging on his shoes behind me. He claimed the foul of bacon grease in his pancake order. So, we had the first puke of the tour, and a sudden deadly seriousness to Rice's vegetarian vow (like there was any doubt).

After a good rinse of the back of the van, we headed on to Santa Fe, in order to stop and rest up at Tom's friend's Melissa's house. We were actually playing in Madrid, which is about 30-40 minutes south of Santa Fe. We arrived in the early afternoon (I drove the last leg), and I actually got my own room (only somewhat smelling of dog) to park my head for a few hours before cleaning up and heading to the gig. Melissa was certainly a gracious hostess.

My friend Jennifer drove up from Albuquerque for the show, and I'm glad we'd done all the meeting up legwork before getting to Madrid....as I had no phone service in Madrid. Madrid reminds a lot of Wimberley; it's a sort of "art town." Probably expensive as hell to live there. The show was one of the best of the tour. Enthusiastic crowd, etc. Meeting Tom's mom was a highlight. She's like the happy version of Tom. And Jennifer seemed to have a great time. That night was exceptional in all ways.

So, what do we do? Yes, another overnight drive. For good reason, though. Cody's sister, her husband, and two kids live in a nice house in Arvada, just northeast of Denver proper. They just moved into the house a couple of months prior, and it was a big one. We all had space to stretch out. There were five bathrooms in the house, but the one by my bedroom had living room access, so it became the popular one.

The Denver show was a pretty good one, although I expected more people on a Saturday. I wonder if perhaps Denver doesn't have much of a rock scene now....not sure. Old friends aplenty made it to this one, including my old room and band mate Clay Brown, Chris and Stella Hay, K.K. Felvy, and Sandra Calderon. Clay (his wife Aimee was in Austin) and Sandra had just moved to Denver recently. (Turned out Clay and Aimee lived in Arvada, where we'd been staying.) We were fed some good pizza by the venue, too. And, as the Hickoids are apparently unofficial spokesmen for Voodoo Doughnuts, there were two boxes of Voodoo Doughnuts waiting for us at the store across the street from the club. Now, that's rock star livin'!

After finally spending the night in a bed, we arose early the next morning for the trek to Salt Lake City. I should mention, especially as I drew a long part of this drive, westward through Wyoming, that the van's tires were clearly not balanced. Jeff had gotten new tires for the van before leaving, but something wasn't right. And as the battery hadn't been connected correctly, the tires being out of balance was not a huge shock, either. We were going to have get them balanced at some point, and they were clearly getting worse as we went. The shaking had been noticed all the way back on the way to Fort Worth. As I mentioned at the start of this blog, the tour was pretty smooth sailing overall, so you should already surmise nothing bad happened.

Anyway, we got to Salt Lake City, loaded into the venue, and checked into our hotel. I got an extra room for that night, just to have a little extra space. We didn't have a really long drive the next day, so I thought it'd be nice to have. Rice stayed with me that night. Generally, for each night, Jeff had booked two rooms for the six of us. My thought was, if we could stay until checkout time, I might get an extra room, provided it was affordable and available.

After resting a couple of hours, we headed back to the club. I noticed some folks in Juggalo make-up as we drove around town. Juggalos in Salt Lake City. Now I've seen everything. Turns out Insane Clown Posse was playing down the street from us....substantially "down the street." We were booked into a place called The Metro, which was a very nice place, but was also outfitted for about a 1,500 person capacity. We were in Salt Lake City on a Sunday night, so I think you know where this is going. The two other bands on the bill, despite being good bands, were just not right for our bill and didn't draw anyone outside of their girlfriends/wives. We had one "superfan" there (David) who bought merch, took pictures with us, etc. Smitty jumped down off the tall stage and attempted some mingling with the girlfriends/wives/other band members and David, so it wasn't all for naught. Still, we should have never been booked in that place. Also, we were under the impression that some metal festival was going on in SLC, and that this was the first day and a part of said festival. When I asked the sound person about this, he looked at me as if I told him I'd shot JFK. I always thought any festival beginning on Sunday would be suspect; my suspicions were confirmed. We were just in the wrong place.

We got a good night's sleep, though.

Monday morning it was off to Boise, Idaho. I'd never been to Boise before, and my only previous Idaho experience was a Honky show in Pocatello in 1997. Late afternoon, we arrived and checked into the hotel; this time I sprang for upgrades to one room, which gave Jeff, Rice, and myself lots of extra space in our room. When I saw the other room later, I almost felt bad for Cody, Tom, and Carl. Almost. I spent the evening downloading video to an external drive and getting ready for laundry the next day, etc. Rice, Cody, and Carl spent the evening at Jim's Alibi, one of the best bar names I've ever seen. And apparently Cody performed the second puke of the tour, in their hotel room, although I found out about this sometime later.

The next morning, Jeff fashioned an album mailer for me out of a box, and I mailed Chris and Stella Hay the Pocket FishRmen album I had brought for them...but left at Cody's sister's house before the Denver gig. Rice, Hungover Carl, and I went to the post office, and then went to the Walmart Auto Center to get the tires balanced. I was told to come back at 2:00. In the meantime, Jeff became Laundry Man No. 1. He folds nicely. Jeff returned to Walmart with me to get the tires balanced. I bought a decent plaidish "show shirt" at a neighboring Goodwill and then we headed back to the Center to get the van. The Center rep told me the van was ready, and so I headed outside, thinking the keys would be in the van. They were not, and I would have to go back in to get them....but while walking to the van, a mechanic of dubious merit ran in front of me with a torque wrench and hubcaps; I guess the van wasn't ready after all. He tightened all the lug nuts and pressed the hubcaps on the wheels, while occasionally flashing an inconsistently toothy grin at Jeff and me. We still lost one of the hubcaps before we got to Canada. Careful if you use Walmart's auto services. Maybe try elsewhere.

And so, by Tuesday night, we were ready to perform again, at the Shredder in Boise. While the attendance was better than SLC, and the other two bands much more to our liking, there was still a lack of audience energy in the building. Mantooth opened the show and was my favorite discovery of the entire tour. Fun, fun band. Great musicians, tight playing, and a made-up bewigged front man who "had it going on." Jeeziz, were they fun. They were followed by Jimmy Vegas and the Phobes, a well-rehearsed quartet with good tunes. I liked 'em but probably would have liked them more if the lead singer hadn't resembled Ted Cruz's even crazier brother. Really. I couldn't get that out of my head. Our set was decent, but it was probably one of the only times I've seen Smitty unable to motivate anyone in the audience. And not for a lack of trying. We might've been a bit sluggish; a day off will do that sometimes.

Next up, Canada! We headed to Vancouver the next morning, crossing into Canada east of Seattle, in an attempt to avoid a long line at the border. The immigration process didn't take too much time, despite a wait in the building while some officers went through a few things in our van's passenger area. Apparently, a look at the gear in the back convinced them that we were indeed just a low-rent band looking to play a couple of Canagigs. They let us pass.

We checked into the hotel in Vancouver and then headed to the gig at Pub 340. There's been a bar or pub in this location since 1898, according to the Pub 340 website. Great atmosphere, and a really friendly staff. Nearby is a park filled with junkies in tents and on benches. Apparently, Canada has a number of "tent cities" springing up.

A downside to the Pub 340 stage was the upstage part of the playing area had a wooden box (shelf?) hanging over it, which meant I had to be really careful when raising my arms while playing. I purposely set my cymbal stands a little lower to compensate and didn't have a problem. I didn't even bump my head on the lowered obstacle. Surprised me. A couple of acts played before us. Subverter, the first one, was pretty much straight up punk, with a singer who had "that attitude." A couple of times he snarled an apology for their set not being "country." I kept hoping he'd see us, just so he could see what we actually were. A couple of that band came back, but I think the singer left after they played. The second act was Skeeter and the Deets. Nice fellas and a good set of acoustic duo tunes. Our set was raucous and a winner all around. We debuted the "Canadian Medley" at this show, and I could not believe the reaction of the crowd. The youngish punks loved the Rush and BTO every bit as much as the Subhumans and D.O.A. Surreal! And the whole show was a great antidote to the two previous lackluster ones.

The next morning we got up to head to the ferry crossing to Vancouver Island and our destination, Victoria. The ferry ride would be approximately 1 1/2 hours and was a nice respite from being cooped up in a van all day. The ferry had some nice conveniences - food, etc. - which we took part in. It was also a nice day and pleasant to be outside in a deck area. Most of us remembered the ferry ride to Denmark from Germany in 2013....that was a cold one.

But back to pleasant weather. The venue in Victoria, The V Lounge, was adjacent to our hotel. And it looked a bit, as many of us noted, liked Caesar's Palace Lite. Columns lined the back of the stage. This was one big hotel bar. And the show was great. The Jaks folks know how to put on a party. Their band, the Keg Killers, was awesome and in a bit of a different configuration than the one we played with in San Marcos a couple of months back (might've been a different band, really....I'm a bit foggy on the details). Dustin, who had been the drummer in the San Marcos show band was the singer here. He's equally fantastic at both. Our set went off well once again, and the crowd really dug our second performance of the "Masters of Canada" medley. Joe Newman, who has recorded as the Rudy Schwartz Project for decades now made it to the show. I've been a fan of Joe's for 30+ years, and it was good to see and talk with him. For some reason, I thought he lived in Vancouver and thought about him when we were there...and then he turns up in Victoria! Just an all around great night. And it was especially nice to walk back to the hotel. That happens every so often, but not often enough for this old man.

The next morning, we said goodbye to Carl, who lives in Victoria now and was staying behind. And then, we were back on the ferry, albeit a different ferry - this one went directly into Washington and was a shorter trek. Immigration was less of a hassle getting back into the States (which actually surprised us a bit - but then the official was from Laredo...and we had our Texas plates). What took an infuriating amount of time was getting to the hotel in south Seattle. It was Friday afternoon; I probably don't need to write more. After getting checked in (after one false motel stop), we hurried to Slim's Last Chance to get ready to rock once again. I saw many friends there, including Stig Stench, Kristen Lyon, and of course, the one and only Max Brody. Max helped us out by filming our show once again. Max now works for Something Weird video. I envy him.

Joining us in Seattle was Patrick Pena, otherwise known as Harvey McLaughlin, playing piano and shooting video of us. His job was to be Carl, but a Carl who was a pianist. Patrick was texting me as he was getting to the club - after his flight landed, as he had some Uber problems, and finally when he was almost to the club....which was right as we began our set. He ran onstage after our first song (Jeff had already set up his equipment), and he began tinkling along with us. Patrick, of course, was along for the rest of the tour, and I always enjoy his company.

I had a fairly major problem with the outdoor stage at Slim's (Rice seemed to think I had this problem last time, too, but I'm fuzzy on it) - the stage is about as bouncy as they come. That's a particular problem for a drummer, when you need your equipment somewhat stable on the stage. And with the Hickoids, it's really a problem on what I call "stomp songs." Some of our songs are ones where the kick drum is stomping on one-and-three, or even every beat. The bear song here was "Petticoat Junction," which is just a fast train beat, with the kick stomping on every beat. The snare drum was wobbling all over the place, and I quickly got off track with almost no way of getting back on. I already tend to have problems with the train beat anyway, as I'm not very comfortable with country music (shh...don't tell anybody). I envy some drummers (Gary [Jimmy Ned] of the Beaumonts comes to mind) who just slip in and out of that beat easily. Not me. I have to stay right on it, or else, I might just as well break into a solo.  Other than that song, though, the rest of the set went well; I think overall we did fine. We were sandwiched in between a couple of bands and The Accused; the whole night was a successful night crowd-wise.

After the show, we headed toward the hotel's direction for some food, and the night turned interesting quickly. We stopped at a Denny's, walked in after seeing some club kids and hookers outside, and were met with the sight of a young man talking to himself and darting back and forth in the waiting area, drumming on a picture frame for a bit, mumbling, etc. We noticed pants on the floor and a "mystery fluid." After a couple of minutes, we thought somewhere else might be better. So we took off for another late-night place and had better luck there, although a hooker from our first stop walked in and made her way to the bathroom while we were there. I hope she had a good night.

The next day, we had two shows in Portland: one outside of the second Portland Voodoo Doughnuts location, and a night show at Dante's. The Voodoo show was slated for 4:00. And was. It. Hot. Damn. The playing area was covered by a canopy, but other than that, blazing sun.

As I was unpacking my drums, I made an unfortunate discovery. My front kick head was pretty much destroyed. This is the "Slowpoke" head I've had on the Hickoids set's kick drum for the last six years or so. Granted, I'd been thinking about replacing the kick head with something else for awhile now, but this wasn't the time to have to make the change. I mean, it was destroyed, not just cracked or torn. It looked to me like something had been dropped on the kick drum. (A certain someone told me he thought this was the case, but no one from the band confessed to anything.) The left-middle of the head was sliced from top to bottom, and the bottom, for about a third of the total circumference, was separated from the rim. I could not patch this up. As I had to get set up as well, Jeff volunteered to go with someone at the show who said there was a music store nearby and grab a new head. Turned out it wasn't the right kind of store, but they had a 22" pedal-side head they gave Jeff. I thought I'd have to use that, but a guy whose band had just played before us offered me his front head. He even started taking it off before I could answer. It was a nice Pearl head and served the rest of the tour. He's my Portland Angel, you might say. I still slipped him some money, even though he complained.

The set was okay, although there were audio problems...lack of monitors, etc. Typical outdoors show. Still a lot of fun. And we got doughnuts!! Tres really has a thing for us. Crazy guy. He needs help.

I headed to the hotel I'd gotten for.....drum roll, please....Michelle and me! Yes, she was coming into town for the show and hanging out a couple more days with Jessie Sundvall and Janet Hammer. The hotel was not quite a mile from the place we were playing and seemed suited for anything Michelle might want to do while she was there. It was a nice, big room in an older hotel. Michelle got in about 8:30 and we Ubered over to Dante's later on.

We ended up just eating pizza at the club and just hanging there for the duration. Janet and Jessie showed up later, as did a couple of other folks Michelle knew. The show itself was just okay. There were some people there, but they were spread across the club; it's a pretty large place. Michelle opined that Portland might be a "younger place." That's probably true. My memory of the night is colored by her being there anyway, so I had a good time. There were band shenanigans after I was gone, but obviously, I can't comment on them, other than I got an earful.

The next day, I bid my lovely wife adieu, and the band headed to Bend, which was south and to the east a few hours. We stopped at Indian Head Casino (of course) along the way, and I picked up a t-shirt for my mom in a crafts store nearby. She digs the Native American-flavored stuff. I had booked a motel room tin Bend at Jeff's request, as lodging was being arranged by a member of the other band....who was Jeff's girlfriend's cousin. Jeff wasn't sure how much room there'd be. And that turned out to be a good call. The room wasn't even $100 and the motel looked to be an old Motel 6 completely redecorated with a solid Indian vibe. I dug the way the room looked. Patrick quickly jumped to room with me, so he and I stayed there. But, the show.....was surprisingly good. And it was a Sunday. There were a decent number of folks there, many being friends of the opening band.

Another equipment note: the previous night in Portland, I had been dismissed before load-out. I had packed everything up and had it together and ready. Somehow, my fan did not make it into the van. I like having a fan. So, we found a van backstage that I brought up to use. And I would need to buy something else before the SF gig. A slight annoyance, but I can't complain much as I wasn't there for that load-out. The broken kick head still had me steamed, frankly.

Monday morning, we began the trek to San Francisco. Keep in mind, this is during fire season, and one of the worst fire seasons the western part of the States has had. Much to our ultimate surprise, we didn't see much fire....I remember a small one in the distance at one point, but I don't remember exactly where it was. We did see more burned trees and some lingering smoke, but that was it. So, the drive to San Francisco ended up being much less eventful than I thought it might be. We pulled into the city around 9:00 and checked into our rooms. I bought one more room for some added comfort, even at SF prices. Not cheap, by any means. Still, we had some room, and we were near the Marina. And we were going to be there for a bit. We ate at Mel's Drive-In that night, which is not a drive-in but a diner. Still, it's fun to say you ate at Mel's. Gettin' all Tayback and shit. And later that night, I walked to the Walgreen's near us. Boom, clip-on fan for $7.50. That would last the tour, for sure.

The next morning I got my laundry to a nearby laundromat for some Wash and Fold service. Even put my ever-stinkening jacket in for a dry clean. While waiting, I took a walk into the Presidio, a place I used to go with my dad back in the early 70s. The Officers' Clubs were there, so we would stay there when visiting the city. It was interesting to see it now, and I took a special trek to the Yoda Fountain I saw on Atlas Obscura. After getting back to the room (I was rooming with Patrick), I told him about the fountain, and he was intrigued enough to make his own way there. Late in the afternoon, while hanging with Rice (and hurting), he made a comment about getting a massage, which is something I hadn't thought of. Phone out....booked one at a Thai massage place for the next hour. That was an experience. It's the type massage where someone holds onto suspended poles above you and steps on different parts of you. It was also something I needed after too much time sitting in a cramped van. My knee was really stiffening badly. The masseur, despite barely knowing any English and not really understanding my jabber, caught on quickly to what was going on with me. After the massage was over, he suggested a lot of maintenance work that my own physical therapist in Austin has been suggesting. Didn't take him long!

In the evening, it was off to the gig at the Elbo Room. We were playing with Sluggo Cawley's new project, Req'd, and our friend Bobby's band Bellyfruit. It was a Tuesday night, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but the night turned out pretty great. The crew ran everything really professionally, so there were no shrugging shoulders when you needed some help. "Professionally".....yes, I just wrote that word. Jello Biafra even showed up and stayed through our set. It was kind of funny to see him wearily sitting down near stage right by the end of our set as I thought, "yeah, we're all getting up there." The other Grannies made it to the show, and it was fun catching up with them. I can't really remember if we had any late night food. Our nice parking place in the center of the hotel parking lot was gone, so the van had to be parked on the street with someone checking on it periodically. I can't say that the hotel was especially accommodating to us band folk, but it WAS a Super 8. I had gotten charged three times for my room but got that all worked out in the end. Ugh. Still, I call San Francisco a success.

Wednesday, we began driving down Highway 1 (or PCH) to Santa Cruz. It's a nice drive I hadn't been on in years, and we stopped at one point to get out, walk down to the beach, and snap some nice shots. We got to Santa Cruz by early afternoon and checked into our rooms. We were a short walk from the Santa Cruz Beach & Boardwalk, and so Rice, Patrick and I headed down there. Someone (me, maybe?) acted like a kid all over again. I rode the Great Dipper roller coaster four times. Tom joined us, and he got in on the roller coaster action, too....which surprised me a bit! It had been many years since visiting there. When my dad had his sailboat, we would sail from Monterey to Santa Cruz. As a kid, it seemed like an interminably long trip, but when I'd see the roller coaster in the distance, I'd know we were almost there. Ah, memories. Like the corners of my mind.

And later, it was off to the club (how many times have I written that sentence now?). We played the Blue Lagoon, which seemed a misleading name. It was an interesting maze of a place, and right next to it was a record/CD/DVD store that was actually open a little later. I picked up the only two discs of the trip that night, a copy of the limited edition of "Demon Wind" and the 4 Film Favorites version of the Batman movies from the 80s/90s. Met my price point, finally. The show itself was okay. Fang played before us, and their set was good, but I suspect they were going through the motions a bit. Didn't seem as intense as when we played with them in San Antonio earlier this year. Our set was pretty good, not a great crowd, but okay for a Wednesday. There was a giant fan built into the wall behind me, sort of an exhaust fan in reverse. And it was loud. Made it a little difficult to hear what was going on, but not that difficult. And I like staying cool.

The next morning, we bid Santa Cruz adieu and headed south to Ventura. In all my California years, I don't believe I'd ever been there. We checked into a somewhat sleazy Motel 6 there and headed to the night's rock residence, the Red Cove. A funky place, for sure. Nice folks working there, but the set up was strange. The stage was really deep, which swallowed a lot of the sound. And the stage was a bit "soft," let's say. Everything sounded strange to me on stage, and it was one of my lesser moments playing. Just didn't have a good show. I think the others might have liked it more than I did. And...at the end of the night...we got stiffed. Or at least, the bar people on duty had nothing to pay us with. I was outside, jawing with Patrick while all this was going on, but there was something about the vibe of the place that....well, let's just say I wasn't terribly surprised. Jeff was going to have to go there the next morning and try to get paid. Hoo boy. And the night ended with a late night McDonald's run with a very drunk Cody mouthing off continually in the passenger seat. By the time we got back to the motel, I took my food (sic) and headed off to the opposite end of the motel to eat in peace. One thing I've started to learn more (finally, in my fifties!) is that it's better to just excuse yourself and find a corner to go to than start a bunch of shit with an otherwise likable bandmate.

Off to Los Angeles the next day. Jeff had booked rooms at a Ramada there, and I swear, it took us almost an hour to check in. There was new, fumbling, management and an upset guest in the lobby. I thought we'd never get our rooms. But we did, and then off we went, as you do (or used to, anyway), to Hollywood. As with most other cities in the U.S. of A., Hollywood has become a sort of gentrified Disneyland. It was still fun to walk amongst the stars in the pavement, and we ate at Roscoe's Chicken 'n' Waffles. It's amazing to me how many silent stars are amongst the memorialized in the pavement. And how many of them I actually know of and have seen their work!

We headed to the club, Cafe Nela, which was toward the north a bit and was an older punk rock dive that felt a bit like....home. The stage manager had everything running smoothly, with each band setting their equipment in one of four numbered spots outside the main floor. I'd never seen that sort of organization for a smallish club before. Interesting. And helpful, ultimately. The only thing I can say I didn't like about the club was their lack of water, even for the bands. You had to pay for water. Right before we went on, Pat Todd brought us all bottles of water....not sure where he got them, and I hope he didn't pay for them. Pat and his band went on before us, and before them was the Golden Rulers, a band fronted by Dave Duet, and they rocked most ferociously. Brian Stack was the drummer, and it was a lot of fun catching up with him. The last time I saw him he was throwing chairs around a club in Houston at a Honky show and was ejected. It was good to see him more in control, and he had a nice wife in tow. Our set was pretty damned sweet. (Recent development: a torrent of our set was found and just might become a live album for us. We'll see.) As a matter of fact, I might go so far as to say it was the best overall show of the tour. Cody got drunk again.

We had a late night sup at a cool Mexican joint, with some added "after hours restaurant drama" to entertain us, and then bunked in. Long drive the next day to Tucson.

Tucson. I hadn't been or played there since 2001, and it looked quite a bit different, too. A very white, gentrified, downtown area, where we played at a place called Club Congress. We were supposed to be able to stay in the adjoining hotel, but it was booked for the night. The club contact had set up rooms for us at a Ramada Inn about a mile away. No problem, really. While the rest of the band ate dinner with Rich Minus' brother, I snuck away to check into the hotel and get a little "me" time. We were on the home stretch, but I needed a little solo medicine.

The show was.....okay. Once again, we played a place where everything was well organized. I was able to fully set up before leaving for the hotel. The opening band, the Pork Torta, set up in front of us. Very entertaining band. Three-piece, with the drummer setting up in the middle, and singing the majority of the tunes. I dug 'em. Our set was all right, but a bit of a let down from the night before (as it would be, of course). Still, I thought we pulled it off well. Immediately after we finished (at 10:00!), a DJ began setting up to play dance music for the rest of the night.  We hung around the downtown area for a bit before heading back to the hotel. Strange time. It was sort of like a big dance club party outside the club itself. Live music is definitely dying out in some towns. And Cody became insufferably drunk again.

We had another long drive the next day, to Marfa, so we headed out reasonably early. At some point in the trip (I don't remember where), we stopped at a casino (surprise!), and I had a truly excellent pizza there. Biggest food surprise of the tour. The waiter had recommended the steak and avocado sandwich special to everyone, and most got it. I opted for the pizza, and while the others only gave their sandwich an "okay" at best, well, I was in a bit of pizza heaven. I don't say (or write) that often.

We pulled into Marfa and had to start setting up quickly. It was a Sunday, but there were folks there waiting for a show. And we put one on. It was a strange set, and definitely not one of my best, but we entertained everyone, and that's the goal, right? I clammed something on PM, that, well, I'll just say, I hope I never do that one again. It's the type of thing I sometimes do when I'm tired, I'll put it that way. Ha! Good to see Jeffro, as always, and Todd and Bonnie Kassens happened to be there as well.

It seemed to take forever to get out of the club and on the road. And I have to admit, I was obsessed with watching the final episode of "Sharp Objects," which I did. On my phone, with an HBO app. Sad. But I enjoyed it! The drive back was pretty smooth. When we got back, Jeff asked me if we could just go to my house, and I'd take Rice home. I agreed it was best, although that meant 8:00 in the morning on a Monday, driving into Austin. I took the toll road and got back home within an hour.

That was the tour. No breakdowns (after the first day, anyway). Most of the shows were great; the only real duds were the Sunday/Tuesday of the first week. My leg cooperated more or less, although I have more ideas for the next van tour we'll do, assuming we do one. Once I got back on the exercise bike at home, I was fine after a couple of days. Damn knee. Well, I'll deal with it. And now I have a lot of video to catalog.

The Video Boy Troubles and Upcoming Shenanigans

And.......when we left our boy last week......wait, that was two weeks ago.....yes, well.....

I was writing about a crash my Mac had, just as I was about to finish a promotional video for the Hickoids. Said video project had to be reconstituted on a PC laptop (the one I'm typing on now), using the editor in Movie Studio Platinum (an offshoot of Vegas). The editor turned out to be okay, although it's missing one crucial feature for anyone editing anything over a minute in length - the ability to set up individual sequences. Since the total time of the video ended up being 1:42, it wasn't super necessary, but still a bit painful to navigate around. The previous one built in Premiere was several sequences of a few seconds in length each.

Within a week, I had it done, and it came out.....okay.

Got a bluish tinge going on in some of the shots which comes from the residue of removing green screen, but I'm not sure why blue. If anyone asks me, I'll just say there was a blue light in the dungeon. That makes sense, dunnit?

Continuing along with computer woes, or more accurately, fixes.....

In the last entry, I stated I was done with Macs, and I'm sticking to that. I ran into my friend Larry Stern a couple of weeks ago (he got me the Mac system several years ago), and he thought it was fixable, although perhaps at some cost. I politely declined. I'm still done with Macs. There's just something I don't like about the Apple company in general, and hey, if I'm going to get political about it....Bill and Melinda Gates have my vote. So, back to a Microsoft operating system.

I chose a Lenovo tower that is set up for gaming, which means it'll be fine for my non-gaming, yet sometimes video-involved self. I decided on this one after much shopping around, and so far, so good. The OS is on a separate SSD drive and boots up really quickly. I haven't done a lot with it so far - still deciding on what video editor I should use - and as I'm about to leave town for awhile, it'll be some time before I really get down to serious usage. But that'll also give me time to decide on software I want to put on it. And, since this laptop I'm using has Windows 10, I'm fairly familiar with it as an OS.

This recent purchase inspired me to get a hard drive enclosure and do some "house cleaning." I pulled all the hard drives from towers I'm declaring dead (two from the Mac, and two from previous PCs), and I've been able to read the data from the two Mac drives - with the help of cross-platform software - and one of the PC drives. The oldest PC drive is an IDE drive, and my enclosure is only suited for SATA drives. Frankly, I'm sure I didn't need anything off a drive inactive for ten years, so I'll just destroy that one. I was able to donate the PC towers to Goodwill, and I'll figure out a home for the Mac tower. It might go back to Larry! Cleaning house!

I mentioned leaving town for awhile...and the video gives that away....yes, the Hickoids are about to embark on an 18-day tour, going west. At the halfway point, we'll be in Vancouver and Victoria, BC, which will be my first foray into Canada. We're not going far into Canada, but still, it's Canada. It's a bit like going to Reynosa and saying you've "been to Mexico." Still, I'm looking forward to a bit cooler weather. Hopefully, we won't run into any of the awful blazes going on in California right now. Jeeziz, those poor folks dealing with that.

On this tour, I'll have responsibilities exceeding drumming and occasional yodeling; the sampler's coming with, and the tour will be documented on digital video. We have folks lined up to shoot the video, so thankfully, I won't have to do that. A really nice fella named Carl is coming with up to Canada. He's a native San Antonian who now lives in Victoria, BC. He was down for a couple of months visiting family, and so he's riding back home with us. He'll be shooting our misadventures, etc. I'll give him a quick tutorial on the camera, and hopefully he'll get some good stuff. We're so photogenic.

We'll leave Carl in Victoria, and Patrick (Harvey McLaughlin) is joining us in Seatlle for the trip back. He'll, of course, be playing his piano on stage with us, but in the van, he'll be cinematographer. There might be more interesting stuff in the second half, I'm thinking. Sleep deprivation is a big cause of tour hijinks, let's say. Although, our significant others are meeting us at different points on the west coast....so that might cause us to behave, if only for a bit.

The sampler is coming as a sort of "audio enhancement" for the stage show. There's an intro, recorded by Jeff, for the show. There's a version of "O Canada" to preface our wonderfully awful "Canadian Medley." And, there's Plastic Patrick's "Hickoid Massacre," to play as an outro. Easy stuff, but I think I'll add a few more things to keep it lively. The sampler's a pain in the ass to set up but worth it, if you have a soundman willing to play ball. I'll elaborate more later.

We had a couple of warm-up shows this weekend, one in Austin, one in San Antonio. The Austin one was a fun, but hot, affair. We played after the Beaumonts, which might not have been the right call. The Beaumonts had a huge crowd that diminished somewhat by the time we took the stage. Still, we put on a pretty good show, although it felt like it was petering out toward the end - probably the heat. The best thing about it was we had Wade Driver in attendance, and he jumped up and played guitar on a couple of songs. He's recovering from a stroke currently, but the energy was there, for sure. It was great to have him on stage. I tried to get him to come up and drum with me on "Back in the Truck," but he didn't seem to want to. No matter. He was a major drum inspiration to me back in the bad ol' days, so I was just honored to share the stage with him. We also stumbled through the Canadian Medley, although it needs work. We're not far off, though.

Last night's show was, as some of my friends like to say, "tits." Fred Greene told me he thought it was one of the best shows he'd ever seen us play, and he's certainly seen enough. The stage at Bang Bang Bar in San Antonio is pretty tiny, but somehow we all got up there. I thought for sure Patrick would have to set up on the floor, but no, he didn't - although he was hidden by a speaker main. Cody was somewhat hidden by the other one, as well. Basically, if you like looking at Jeff, Tom, and Rice only, this show was for you. Jeff didn't want to do the Canadian Medley, so we didn't. It does need a little tightening, still. The only issue I had was getting the soundman to actually put the sampler into the speakers. He seemed a little, shall we say, slow on the draw. He didn't understand that we were using it as a pre- and post-show entertainment, as well as occasionally through the show. After finally getting him to turn it on before we started, he just turned off the channel for the rest of the show. When I quizzed him about it later, he seemed....not really uncaring, but not really cognizant of it, either....I think chemicals were involved. But really, all this is my fault. I realize I'm going to have to have a chat with every soundman on this tour to explain what I need for the sampler to be worth bringing out. It's not much, but it'll need to be said.

I'll try to chronicle along what happens on the tour, although I may just do it in one big chunk after getting back...sort of like I did with the 2013 Euro Tour. We'll see. Until then......stay cool, friends. Your working drummer boy loves ya.

The Heat Is On - "Anguish"/"Autopsy"/"He Ran All The Way"

Ah, summer in Texas. Or pretty much summer anywhere, probably. These days, anyway. We've hit the 100-degrees-every-day mark, and it shows no signs of subsiding soon. In some ways, I'm happy about it, because I'd like to lose some weight. 20 pounds, at least. But then I'm using the verb "like," instead of something more demanding....my health is reasonably fine these days. It's just that I'm a bit of a chunk, and it'd be nice to not worry about how jowly I look at times. Not that I'm going to work out in the heat, nothing like that....but I have taken some steps.

One is purchasing a recumbent bike/working desk combination. (I think I've mentioned this here previously). So far, so good. I tend to bike anywhere from two to four hours during a work day at home, occasionally even a bit more. I've lost a couple of pounds over the last few weeks, so I'm thinking that the pedaling must be working a bit; my diet certainly hasn't changed. Project work has dried up for the moment, so I'll have to be more conscious of keeping to the riding while I'm working on whatever time-killing grunt work I get. Or just riding while watching a movie - there's that, too.

Last night, the Hickoids played a truly fun one in San Marcos, outside at the Buzz Mill. Hot? You bet. Maybe I lost a couple of pounds last night, as well. We hadn't played a show in a little over a month, and we were on fire. The band before us was largely made up of JaKs skateboard team guys, who were having a reunion in the San Marcos area but currently live in Victoria, BC. They were a really fun punk rock band, keeping the tempos lively, which inspired me for sure. I think I drove all our tempos at least 10-20 BPM faster than normal after seeing them. Didn't hurt.....kept the crowd in it. The night (and our set) ended with our rendition of "Brontosaurus" where, at the end, we throw in the marching snare-driven guitar solo of "Free Bird." About that time, I realized some guys had gotten into a full-on brawl by the front of the stage. For a while, I was certain they would crash back into the drums.....but it didn't happen. They were thrown out right as we were wrapping the song (and set) up. Hilarious way to close it.

Another bit of news: I have ordered the "corn wrap" for my Sonor drum kit. I sent the hi-rez image I found to the company, Bum Wrap, and they said "order away." The end result should be that my plain-Jane Sonor drums will look like corn cobbettes. The only thing that has me a bit nervous is that I have a question concerning the size of the bass drum wrap, and they have not answered my question, even after I sent the question twice. Hopefully, they're just not checking email for a bit, as I received the response to my image submission within 30 minutes. Still, I've already ordered and paid. Answer me, y'all!

One thing I haven't done in awhile is write about movies watched. There have been several, but I'll pick two that have been on my "gonna watch" pile for a bit but just hadn't gotten to. Both were released on DVD by Blue Underground, and both begin with "A." How's that?

"Anguish," from 1987, is something I've read both positive and negative about for quite some time. The plot is nothing too special, although the execution is. For the first 25 minutes or so, you witness a rather meek and nervous optician's assistant who is dominated by his mother. Mom drives him to kill ladies and take their eyeballs. Grisly stuff. Then....out of nowhere....the camera pulls back, and you realize that we have a "movie within a movie"; there's an audience watching this story in a theater. And there's a serial killer in the theater, influenced by the movie he's watching. Other reviewers think the premise for this movie is great but not developed very well.....I disagree. I think the director did a fine job in keepin' it creepy. You never get to know much about the characters, but I do think you develop an affinity for them and even root for, well, the two young ladies, anyway. The inner movie has Michael Lerner (you probably know him from Coen brother movies) as the optician's assistant and Zelda Rubenstein ("Poltergeist"s medium) as his wacky mother. The other cast members are pretty much unknowns (the movie was a Spanish production). I give it an "A."

"Autopsy," from 1975, well.....that's something else, entirely. This is an Italian production, shot in Rome primarily, starring Mimsy Farmer as a doctor dealing with......oh, boy, where to start? Apparently, due to solar flares, people are committing suicide at an alarming rate. When one death comes into the morgue and is examined, the method of death leads Farmer to realize it was a murder and not a suicide. Turns out the dead woman was a mistress of her father, etc. (I think that's true; there are still things about this movie that baffle me.) Farmer also sees visions of dead bodies in the morgue coming to life and laughing at her. The amount of nudity in the first 20 minutes of this movie (and really the whole thing) becomes laughable quickly. But, if you stick with it, the movie gets better in the second half...and becomes a more regular giallo. Still, I'd never heard of the director (and I've watched many a giallo); there might be a reason for that. The cast is pretty good, though, particularly Farmer, Barry Primus as a is-he-a-priest-or-isn't-he, and Ray Lovelock as Ray Lovelock. There is some great location shooting. Michelle and I are hitting Rome in October, so I enjoyed all of that, even if it is Rome 43 years ago. I'll give this one a "C."

I also, after obtaining a rather obscene number of Warner Archive and Kino Lorber titles from the library, watched "He Ran All The Way." This one, from 1951, has the distinction of being John Garfield's last film. Garfield plays a fellow from not-too-good stock, who goes in with one of his crime buddies on a robbery...and that goes wrong, leaving Garfield on the run, and eventually in the house of female lead Shelley Winters and her parents and young brother. He holds the family hostage, and.....well, it goes from there. Good film. Very clearly defined characters, maybe almost too much so, but the movie isn't very long; no time is wasted. At first, it seems Winters is too old to play this role (she was 31 at the time), but as the movie goes on, you realize how perfect she is for the part. I always thought Shelley Winters was an underrated actress, even if she did have two Oscars. Garfield is great in it. I'm still sort of a Garfield newbie; the only other film of his I've seen is "The Postman Always Rings Twice." "He Ran All The Way" rates a "B."

Don't have much else to write today. Feeling pretty drained after last night, but it's good to get "something down." Until next time.....

Hickoids, Dan's Silverleaf (Denton), 3/31/2018

Well, well, well.....haven't written in awhile. Time for a recap of last Saturday night's shindig to the north. North of D/FW, even. The Hickoids returned to Dan's Silverleaf in Denton for the first time in 3 1/2 years. Last time we were there was on a Sunday afternoon after playing a weekend wedding in Oklahoma City. Not the best attended show, but I really liked the venue. Last Saturday, we were playing with Slobberbone, a longtime Denton band playing its first show in awhile. The whole night was fantastic.

For some reason, Slobberbone played first and as the kids say "killed it." I was worried the crowd would dissipate when we hit the stage, but nope, they stayed. And we took our sweet time starting.....jeebus. It seemed like half an hour, maybe more. But once we started, we were cranking. I felt a little sluggish for the first 20 minutes or so, but I think that might have had to do with a possibly unwise decision to eat a barbecued brisket sandwich about half an hour before we got to the club. Yep, not smart. I recovered to come to life midway through the set and finished strong. The sound was fantastic on the stage and in the audience (when watching Slobberbone). And it's always nice to play in a place we don't play often and see folks laughing at Smitty's "story songs." When we do those in places we play often the reaction is more, uh, just agreeable.

Anyway, not much else to say. I rode up with Smitty in the van, picking up Tom and Peggy in Austin. I only drove from 20 miles north of Temple to Georgetown. Smitty did all the rest. Got home at 6 am. Was wiped for Easter but still made a family dinner that evening.

That's all for now.....

Hickoids, The Mix - San Antonio, 3/28/2018

Hello and welcome to another "I played a gig" post. Last night (technically two nights ago, as I'm writing this after midnight the day after, or two days after....oh, whatever), the Hickoids played The Mix in San Antonio, warming the crowd up for Fang. The show managed to occur on the second night of some immense rain in San Antonio. My entire night was made when, as I pulled up to The Mix, I saw Jeff Smith walk out and save me a parking space right next to the front door. I love this man.

Our show went okay, although the sound was pretty weird onstage. The vocal mix was sadly lacking, on the stage and in the audience. Jeff's vocals frequently sounded ultra-distorted and mine were barely audible. Fang and the special surprise guest at the end, Natural Velvet, had the same issues. Maybe a better PA for The Mix someday? It was the first time we'd played there in roughly three years....maybe more....I'm not sure we had played there with Cody in the band yet. Decent crowd, though. They braved the rain, seemed to enjoy us and definitely rocked out to Fang. And Fang......man. It may be about three times as tired watching them as it was playing our own set. That band fires on all cylinders and does not let up. They're a textbook case of professionalism in punk rock, if that doesn't sound too weird. Each song led straight into the next. No one took a drink or tuned. No breaks. Wow. I was floored.

Natural Velvet, from Baltimore, was added to the bill at the end. They were on a tour, and Michelle and I had just seen them on Monday in Austin at the Sahara. Nice folks, good music, and a drummer whose style I loved.

That's it....I'm off to bed in a bit. Maybe write some more about other goings on tomorrow. Yeah, that's it......

Hickoids, Voodoo Doughnuts/04 Lounge, 3/17/2018

And so, it ends. This SXSW, anyway. But we went out with a bang. It was like this...

Originally, I had three gigs scheduled for Saturday, two with the Hickoids, and a sandwich-filling one with Pocket FishRmen playing with the Skatenigs at Rockfest. Very early Saturday morning, the word came through that the entire Rockfest show was cancelled. Apparently, Rockfest had not collected enough funds through the first days of SXSW to pay the bands, so the event was off. So, I was down to two Hickoids gigs, but man, were they fun ones.

Also, I came down with some sort of allergy cold Friday night, so I wasn't feeling my best. Personally speaking, I'm glad I didn't have the FishRmen gig. It was nice being able to rest between the two Hickoids shows. Phil of the Skatenigs is talking already about doing the same bill somewhere else at a later date. I'm all about that. And hopefully, it won't be anywhere near downtown.

So, here's the scoop: the Hickoids first gig was at Voodoo Doughnuts, which is on Sixth Street between Brazos and San Jacinto. In other words, hell during SXSW. I got down there about 1:15 (the trek wasn't too bad) and sauntered up to the parking payment kiosk. I expected $20 for half a day, or something like that. Nope. $30 for four hours. Wow. I walked a little funny for a few minutes after paying that. But at least I was only a block and a half from VD (buh-dom bish!).

The line-up at Voodoo Doughnuts was Count Vaseline, Hickoids, and Dinola. Dinola had ponied up their equipment for us to use, nicely enough. I guess they hauled it over from the same parking lot I was in, in a few trips or something. Jeez. I'd done my newly-discovered "pack stands and throne in suitcase" routine and had extra stuff to flesh out Jimmy's admirably lean drum kit. As I was setting everything up, Stefan (the Count) asked me if I'd play along with him, as he didn't have his electronics - he usually has a drum machine, etc. going. I said "sure!" and proceeded to play a full 40-minute set with him, mainly just keeping a beat. He'd lean over and say "Motown beat on this one," or "that 'Stand By Me' rhythm." It went surprisingly smoothly.

After a 15-minute or so setup break, the Hickoids started, and we delivered to the sometimes baffled doughnut shop patrons. Smitty really worked 'em, and I had the best vantage point in the house. It was hilarious. At various times, everybody (except me, of course) ended up outside, performing for the passersby.

I had parking paid through 5:25 and was determined to use up every penny of it, so I stayed to watch Dinola (and partake in a maple bar). Their songs have been growing on me steadily for some time now, and it's hard to leave one of their performances without singing "Vaporizer.....Vaporizer...." I bought a shirt.

Drove home and thought about hitting Indian Roller (I still have not been there) for Pure Luck but my growing congestion (i.e. general snottiness) dictated I needed to eat Vitamin C and take a nap. Which I somehow did. Michelle got off work at 9, came home, and we headed to 04 Lounge together. That worked out nicely!

We got to 04 Lounge in time to see Texas Bob Juarez, from San Antonio, who had James Flores playing drums. I did not know James was playing, so that was a very nice surprise indeed. James was playing the backline kit (another Rock n Roll Rentals kit; thanks, Chad!), but the kit wasn't situated on a rug. There was no rug in sight in 04 Lounge, and of course, I hadn't brought one. But I noticed that James had no problem with the kit, so I gambled that I wouldn't, either. The Texas Bob Juarez set was a bit loose, but James got to give it his all at times, and I really enjoyed that. He's an inspiration.

Dinola played next, Jimmy again using his kit instead of the one proffered by the event. And, of course, they rocked it, although we spent a lot of time outside with folks we knew who were hanging out.

And then, it was the Hickoids turn to close out the night. We started about midnight and played a pretty damned good set. We only duplicated one song from earlier ("Driftwood"), and yes, the drum kit didn't budge....well, once, but I think one leg ended up on Smitty's shirt for a bit. The kit was great overall.

Afterward, I could feel the old cold feeling coming over me, so I packed up while chatting with folks outside. Tim Swingle and I were talking about, well, whatever we were talking about ("heh, you remember when Mob played Liberty Lunch with.....," etc.), and I noticed a woman approaching us, and she stood near Tim for what must have been ten minutes. I thought she was waiting on Tim. But all of a sudden, she found a break in our blathering and walked over to me, saying "I just want you to know that I've been at the festival all week, and that you are the best musician I've seen playing." I thought she must be drunk, high, or maybe hadn't seen that much music this week, but what a compliment. That's one I'll take to the grave. She didn't tell me her name after I introduced myself, so lady, let me say "thank you very much!" Compliments like that keep us going!

I'm going to try to kick this cold now. After I unpack some gear. And I'll go back to writing about other topics soon. At least I think I will.

Three gigs today! Oh, wait......two gigs today!

So, last night, I took it easy, stayed home, did a little laundry, watched a movie, practiced drumming, etc. My usual Friday night when I'm gigless for the last couple of years or so. There were a few shows I was interested in, but most of them were by folks who play regularly around these parts. So, I stayed home. Plus, I was getting a bad sore throat and feeling a bit sickly (just how I woke up today).

Around 1 in the morning, technically today, Phil Owen posted on the Skatenigs Facebook event page that today's show is completely off. Pocket FishRmen have no gig today now. A post by Adam Brewer of Texas Rockfest on someone else's wall today confirmed that they just haven't had enough people through their gates to pay for the show today. In his initial post, Phil promised we'd do this bill somewhere sometime. So maybe it'll happen in the near future. I'm somewhat disappointed, largely because we tore the paint off the walls at Nomad Thursday night and was looking forward to a quick 30-minute onslaught with the FishRmen today. But....it's not to be. I still have two Hickoids gigs. Maybe, feeling the way I do, that's for the better.

The first gig is at Voodoo Doughnuts, on Sixth Street, where we played their grand opening a couple years back. The second gig is closing out the 04 Lounge tonight. Both gigs will be mostly backlined for drums, but I've packed my "contingency suitcase" anyway. About to head downtown, figure out where to park, and roll these suckers (my cymbals/snare combo, too) what might be many, many blocks. Still, I'll take that over the alternative. I hope Jimmy Ford can get the Dinola van down into VD territory to get gear out to play. We shall see! Complete report tomorrow!

As I mentioned, I'm feeling ill, so I'm ending this here. It's been a pleasure, folks. Write ya real soon now, ya see?