Hey! Guess what we started the day with? That's right, leaving from Atlantic City. Although this time, it was the last time...we checked out of the hotel. And we had Max with us; he was retrieving his van after our Brooklyn show.
By this time, I was pretty much in constant discomfort from the "issue," but I tried not to let it be known. Smile and go along with things was my m.o. Still pretty much is this trip (I'm writing this on Aug. 21). But I did have a plan, and I was about to put it into action.
We got to Brooklyn early enough to check into our hotel, and grab a nap. Max decided to take a nap in our room, which was fine of course, but he lay on the side of the bed next to my already set up CPAP machine. He conked out quickly, so I went to the drug store to pick up an issue remedy. That's right, a laxative. Trouble was, I was going to have to time everything right. But at least a plan was set. Max got up from his nap, and I got a good hour and a half nap in before leaving for the club.
This evening's show was another Jonathan Toubin production at Our Wicked Lady. Someone was cooking Texas-style fare, and the people at the bar could not have been friendlier. More about that in a bit. The line-up turned out a bit overstuffed, but everything worked out in the end.
The show finally kicked off around 9 PM with a solo set from Max Jeffers. Unlike at the Baltimore brewery, a nice group of folks attentively watched Max perform his tunes. I think Max felt this and responded with intensity in kind. Great set.
Next up was a band including the Texas-bred boyfriend of a staff bartender; the band was called Lackadazies, a pretty powerful, stoney three-piece. Solid band. On the negative side, when I went to the drums following their set to begin the cymbal switch, their bass player told me "hey man, tell your bass player this rig's almost blown." After what had happened in Manhattan, I dreaded telling Rice, but I did. He shrugged.
The Harvey McLaughlin Trio squeezed into the line-up with a quick set of six songs. I felt the limited time influenced me to push the tempos a bit, but all went well and was warmly received. At least bass seemed to be coming through.
Before the HMT set, the head bartender (manager?) gave me a bottle of mezcal for the band. I told him half the band was sober, but he insisted, with the "from my heart" motion. Okay, I thought, so I stashed the bottle behind the bass rig. The key drinking members found out about the bottle soon enough. However, as the Hickoids were setting up, I noticed the bottle was gone. Then I was asked about it by one of our Drinky McDrinkingtons. Someone (I forget who) said "oh yeah, the sound man grabbed that bottle." I went to ask him about it, and he said he thought we'd brought it in. I laughed and explained how that nice bartender fellow had given it to us. He looked surprised and went to retrieve it for us, apologizing profusely. I told him I completely understood and all was well!
The Hickoids set was a helluva lot of fun. A great demonstrative audience makes it better every time. Plus, again, it was fun playing in front of my ol' pal Jonathan. Even though he's almost ten years my junior, the positive effect he had on my life is incalculable. I mean that. And I'm a much better, more relaxed drummer than I was in those days; I wanted to show him. The whole band had a good night, although yes, the bass situation could have been better.
Back to the "issue": I took a laxative right when the Hickoids began playing. I was hoping for relief sometime during the night. (Aren't you glad you're reading this?) Well....almost nothing happened. A bit of relief, let's say, but not nearly enough. This was obviously not going to be corrected until Spain. I was just going to have to grin and bear it. Not an easy task. Still, on to Spain....
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