Wednesday February 25, 2009

Day off, no alarm to awake me from my slumber. Instead I get a little bastard kitty by the name of Chet biting the shit out of my ankle just around 10:00 AM. He's used to me being up around this time, so if I sleep any later, it pisses him off. I kick him off the bed, but the son of a bitch is so goddamn relentless that he proceeds to make his way back onto the bed to try more annoying tactics to wake me up. I finally cave, curse the little dick for waking me up, and then head to the bathroom to piss.

Tool had to work at 7:00 this morning, so coffee was already brewed. I'm still holding strong on my non-smoking lifestyle so to take my mind off of the missing piece to my morning puzzle, I head back to my room with my coffee to check my e-mail. It is successful. The lack of nicotine is getting easier and easier to handle each day, or so it seems. I'm still waiting for the slip.

I get a call from Dave informing me that he will be at his house around noon to load the van for our big Double Door gig tonight and I can either come over at noon and he can help me load my drums in my car, or I can just come around 3:30 to load them and pick up Tim. I tell him that either on is doable, but probably more likely to be the 3:30 time slot as I'm not in the mood to do jack shit until I absolutely have to.

After hanging up with Dave, I decide to catch up on some serious movie watching that I have been slacking on for the past few days. I opt for Jim Jarmusch's latest opus, Broken Flowers, one that I had inadvertently missed back in 2005. In a nutshell, the movie is brilliant and definitely made it to the top 3 of my favorite Jim Jarmusch films (the other two being Mystery Train and Coffee and Cigarettes). Bill Murray never ceases to amaze me with his acting capabilities. I feel that him and Jim Carrey are two actors that go very much unrecognized for their dramatic acting abilities. But that's just my humble opinion.

After the movie, I hit the shower and air dry myself while playing some Lego Batman until 3:00 hits. I throw some food at the cats and am out the door. I make a pit-stop at McDonalds for a few cheeseburgers because I haven't had anything other than coffee all day. I inhale two double cheeseburgers and a medium fry and make my way to Dave's house to load up the kit and pick up Tim.

I get there just about 3:30 and bomb into the shed to grab my shit. I load it all in and then head inside to let Tim know that I'm ready when he is. He tells me that we're also driving his friend Mikey to the show as well. This obviously means that I have to go back out to the car and maneuver the drums in the backseat in a way that I can fit another person back there. After about ten minutes of fucking around with the arrangement, I finally fit it all in with an open seat in the back. It's now almost 4:00 and we have to be in the city at the Double Door by 5:00 in rush hour traffic. The more and more we drive, the less and less likely it seems that we will be arriving on time.

Needless to say, I drive like a maniac on the highway trying to get there on time and trying to finagle my way through traffic. The fact that both Mikey and Tim are smoking like fuckin' chimneys doesn't help the will power of a fresh non-smoker, either. Especially at a nerve-racking time like this. But everything gets easier when I get a call from Dave telling me that our running late is not a big deal at all and that the show doesn't start until 8:00 anyway. It's good news to hear, but it makes me question just why in the fuck we have to be there so goddamn early. Regardless, after hearing the news update, I take my sweet ass time getting there.

We finally get there at abut 5:30. After an hour and a half of sitting in city traffic, all I want to do is relax and have a beer. I park my car in front of the place and unload all of my shit to carry inside. I then go to find a parking spot, which is hell at this time in the city. I find one (fairly quickly, much to my surprise) and I meet up with Dave, Tim, Ryan, and Mikey on the corner for a trip to Subway. We walk over there and all order up some subs to eat before the show. We all sit around bullshitting and figuring out a setlist.

We only have a 35-minute slot and most of our songs are around 6-7 minutes in length, so we try to find a way to fit as many songs in as possible. My suggestion is to maybe cut short some of the "jamming" in a few songs to make room for more of a song variety. Dave throws that idea right out the fucking window in a heartbeat stating that he would rather have longer jams than more songs (fuck me, right?). I take that as a slap in the face, so I decide to keep my suggestions to myself for the remainder of the evening.

We walk back to the Double Door and Dave suggests that I park my car closer to the theater because there are more spots open now that the traffic has died down. I hesitantly agree (I didn't feel like getting in the car again). Long story short, I end up getting fucking turned around and lost because of all the "one-ways" and closed streets in the city. This is why I absolutely fucking LOATHE city driving. After spending a half hour just trying to find my way back to Milwaukee Ave., I finally arrive and only end up getting a spot maybe a block closer than I already was. Now I'm pissed and I need a beer before I fucking stab someone.

We walk inside the unopened theater and the bouncer escorts us to our private dressing room. Once in the room, I immediately hit the fridge and grab one of the many free beers that are supplied to us from the bar (I'm usually very humble, but it's times like these that I'm glad to be in a band). I sprawl out on the couch and relax on my beer while Tim and Dave go through vocal harmonies. The day has arrived: I finally feel like a rock star (or as close as I've ever been to feeling like a rock star).

We chill in the room for awhile, cruising in and out to meet the other bands we're playing with and to catch some fresh air every so often. We head upstairs for a sound check just before the doors open. Everyone starts pouring in around ten after eight and we wind up with a fairly huge crowd. Tool, his friend Erica, Russell, Hart, Jerry, Phil and Rob all show up for the show, which makes me fucking ecstatic. The first two bands play their sets as I continue to mingle and take full advantage of the fridge full of free beer in our dressing room.

It's just about 9:45 when we get everything set up for our set. I grab a beer to chill on during our set and then get to it. We have a solid opening and everyone seems to enjoy us. We keep the set going, stopping in between songs just long enough to throw down a few swigs of beer. I'm buzzing pretty hard during the entire set, but I surprisingly played my fucking heart out. I guess it was the fact that I was having such a good time and was so caught up in the moment of playing such a huge gig that I really couldn't make an error. Shit was just going too fucking well.

After our set, we got a long and loud applause, which was really just an indescribable moment. I've always been the guy on the outside looking in. I've been to a shit load of concerts and have always been the guy applauding the well-respected band as they rocked the stage. Now I was on the other end. People were applauding for me. I even heard my name being screamed throughout the crowd from my little personal cheering section. They were all my friends cheering for me, but it was pretty moving and powerful nevertheless. I probably made a bigger deal out if it than I should have, but fuck it, it felt so good.

We finish hauling all of our shit off the stage and I bomb over to where my friends were to thank them a million times for coming. Phil greets me off stage with a beer of congratulations. I accept and we all bomb outside so they can smoke before the final band goes on. Once back inside, Russell orders up a round of shots for us. I sadly have to decline because I'm already pretty fucked up as it is and I still have to drive home in about an hour. We all sit around and listen to our friends in Debello play their set.

The show ends and all the bands rocked the shit out of the Double Door (especially for a Wednesday night). I load up all my shit in my car and head back inside to bid all of my friends farewell and thank them again for coming. I then make the rounds to the other bands to commend them on their sets and thank them for sticking around to hear us. Surprisingly, I get an ass load of compliments on my drumming. This makes me feel even better than before because now I know that the applause wasn't fake. I felt like Sally Field at the Oscars screaming, "You like me! You really like me!" I hold back though as to not look like a total pussy and just simply give everyone a handshake and bid them farewell.

We all leave the theater and I drive Tim and Ryan's mom back to Dave's house. It's a pretty long ride (or so it feels like because I'm pretty buzzed and Tim and Ryan's mom are flat out wasted). We get there and unload my drums back into the shed. It's already close to 1:00 AM so I back out of chilling and drinking more because I'm tired and have to get up for work at 10:00 again tomorrow. I say my goodbye's and head out the door.

On my way home I get hungrier than balls, so I cruise by the drive-thru at McDonalds for the second time today. I get a late night McChicken just to snack on for the ride home. I get home and cruise inside to find Hart and Tool both chilling at the table. I shoot the shit with them for awhile while I snack on what's left of my sandwich. Hart cruises home not too long after and me and Tool decide to call it a night. I do my nightly routine and pass out in my bed watching more episodes of Batman: The Animated Series.