Alcohol is a Dangerous Drug
Friday, 08 July 2005
It was a slow week at my day job, so I was able to leave early on Friday. This allowed me the leisure of not having to hurry home, load the equipment, and make it to the club with barely enough time to set up, let alone actually eat something. Since it was Knucklehead at Club 501 in Wood River, IL, this was a PA gig, so there was a fair amount of work involved. As Deron rolled in near 20:00, I had most everything set up already. He commented about my profuse sweating. Funny thing about moving all that equipment…
I did seem a bit warm in the place, after hearing his comment. It didn’t seem so bad when I had come in, but as the evening wore on it seemed to get considerably less cool. Several people had also commented to me about the heat later in the night. It seems to be a trend with club owners; don’t turn the a/c down to a comfortable level until someone complains. Cost savings, I guess.
We had the normal Knucklehead Experience that night; much of the same stuff we usually play, and way too much stuff we don’t really know. We did Van Halen for Scott, Styx for god-knows-who, a butt-load of Guns-N-Roses for some attractive young lady who seemed to catch Deron at just the right moment (she was working the room like a pro, and loving the attention). It was a pretty typical night.
Saturday, 09 July 2005
This night started off with an order of the fine chicken strips served by the kitchen at the club. There seemed to me to be an exceptional amount of odd people in the place when I arrived. One older guy asked if he could dance to our music. I said, “Be my guest!” (yep…being a jerk again) Another introduced himself to me as someone other than the name on his shirt, then proceeded to punch himself in the stomach over and over again. I believe I mumbled the word “nice” as I walked away. It was going to be one of those nights. I sat on the other side of the bar to avoid any further oddities. Deron joined me there when he came in, as did Dave Stover who showed up, too. Unfortunately, the oddities soon found us and put on their show for Dave. There is no escape.
Dawna showed up during the first set, which was nice for me of course. She was sporting her new T-shirt with the phrase “My Face is Up Here” with an arrow pointing up. It seemed to be a big hit with the other patrons as well. She didn’t stay long, though, as she had promised Katrina she would come to Eddie’s in Granite City to see Ivory Tiger and to help celebrate Geo’s birthday.
Many other friends stopped by during the course of the night, including Kevin Kalka who sat in with us a couple of weeks ago at Eddie’s. During a Metallica song, Deron was doing the pee-pee dance, and at the end of the last chorus he made a B-line for the men’s room. I motioned to Scrappy to just continue dragging out the end of the song…just for yuks. Deron – from the men’s room remember – launched suddenly into Sweet Child of Mine. At this point, Steve decided it would be a good idea to bring up Kevin for a couple of songs. Bad idea. The delay between us and Deron on the other side of the building caused a severe time problem that only got worse as we went on. Deciding not to contribute to it any longer, I just stopped playing. Deron made it back around the end of the first chorus, and I started playing once again. What a disaster. Kevin ended up playing the rest of the set with us.
When I thought we were done, as Deron had begun the Dean Martin outtro music, Steve kept egging the crowd on for one more song. I was less than amused. No one seemed to want one more song except him, but he kept it up irregardless. I made some snide comment about it, to which he began taunting me about it. Now I was really not amused. Deron and Scrappy started into another song – I don’t even remember what it was – and it was on. I had already removed my bass, but put it back on. I really didn’t feel like doing this tonight. So, I just played the bass lines on my foot pedals, including the "Cheech & Chong" ending of which we are so fond. That was at least somewhat amusing.
I began to tear down the equipment immediately after we finished…again. Deron didn’t have his truck that night, so he was going to leave his equipment for Sunday. Off to Eddie’s he went. Steve disappeared early, but then came back for the banner. Scrappy stuck around and tore down his drums, then helped me with the load-out. I’ve told him several times that he doesn’t have to, but he insists anyway. It was about 02:30 by the time I left for home.
I had called Dawna and left a message on her cell phone to call me when she got home. She called back a few minutes later to tell me that she was still at Eddie’s, and that the alcohol she had imbibed had made her sick on top of the medication she had taken earlier. She wasn’t sure she could drive home. This, on top of my own events at the end of the night, rather aggravated me. I was already in a pretty bad mood, and this didn’t help. She said she was going to Katrina’s to drink some coffee until she felt better, then drive home. She called me from home around 06:00. Needless to say, my Sunday was pretty much shot, since I didn’t get to bed until about 06:30.
Oh, well…such is the life of a bar star, eh? Now I remember why I quit drinking.
It was a slow week at my day job, so I was able to leave early on Friday. This allowed me the leisure of not having to hurry home, load the equipment, and make it to the club with barely enough time to set up, let alone actually eat something. Since it was Knucklehead at Club 501 in Wood River, IL, this was a PA gig, so there was a fair amount of work involved. As Deron rolled in near 20:00, I had most everything set up already. He commented about my profuse sweating. Funny thing about moving all that equipment…
I did seem a bit warm in the place, after hearing his comment. It didn’t seem so bad when I had come in, but as the evening wore on it seemed to get considerably less cool. Several people had also commented to me about the heat later in the night. It seems to be a trend with club owners; don’t turn the a/c down to a comfortable level until someone complains. Cost savings, I guess.
We had the normal Knucklehead Experience that night; much of the same stuff we usually play, and way too much stuff we don’t really know. We did Van Halen for Scott, Styx for god-knows-who, a butt-load of Guns-N-Roses for some attractive young lady who seemed to catch Deron at just the right moment (she was working the room like a pro, and loving the attention). It was a pretty typical night.
Saturday, 09 July 2005
This night started off with an order of the fine chicken strips served by the kitchen at the club. There seemed to me to be an exceptional amount of odd people in the place when I arrived. One older guy asked if he could dance to our music. I said, “Be my guest!” (yep…being a jerk again) Another introduced himself to me as someone other than the name on his shirt, then proceeded to punch himself in the stomach over and over again. I believe I mumbled the word “nice” as I walked away. It was going to be one of those nights. I sat on the other side of the bar to avoid any further oddities. Deron joined me there when he came in, as did Dave Stover who showed up, too. Unfortunately, the oddities soon found us and put on their show for Dave. There is no escape.
Dawna showed up during the first set, which was nice for me of course. She was sporting her new T-shirt with the phrase “My Face is Up Here” with an arrow pointing up. It seemed to be a big hit with the other patrons as well. She didn’t stay long, though, as she had promised Katrina she would come to Eddie’s in Granite City to see Ivory Tiger and to help celebrate Geo’s birthday.
Many other friends stopped by during the course of the night, including Kevin Kalka who sat in with us a couple of weeks ago at Eddie’s. During a Metallica song, Deron was doing the pee-pee dance, and at the end of the last chorus he made a B-line for the men’s room. I motioned to Scrappy to just continue dragging out the end of the song…just for yuks. Deron – from the men’s room remember – launched suddenly into Sweet Child of Mine. At this point, Steve decided it would be a good idea to bring up Kevin for a couple of songs. Bad idea. The delay between us and Deron on the other side of the building caused a severe time problem that only got worse as we went on. Deciding not to contribute to it any longer, I just stopped playing. Deron made it back around the end of the first chorus, and I started playing once again. What a disaster. Kevin ended up playing the rest of the set with us.
When I thought we were done, as Deron had begun the Dean Martin outtro music, Steve kept egging the crowd on for one more song. I was less than amused. No one seemed to want one more song except him, but he kept it up irregardless. I made some snide comment about it, to which he began taunting me about it. Now I was really not amused. Deron and Scrappy started into another song – I don’t even remember what it was – and it was on. I had already removed my bass, but put it back on. I really didn’t feel like doing this tonight. So, I just played the bass lines on my foot pedals, including the "Cheech & Chong" ending of which we are so fond. That was at least somewhat amusing.
I began to tear down the equipment immediately after we finished…again. Deron didn’t have his truck that night, so he was going to leave his equipment for Sunday. Off to Eddie’s he went. Steve disappeared early, but then came back for the banner. Scrappy stuck around and tore down his drums, then helped me with the load-out. I’ve told him several times that he doesn’t have to, but he insists anyway. It was about 02:30 by the time I left for home.
I had called Dawna and left a message on her cell phone to call me when she got home. She called back a few minutes later to tell me that she was still at Eddie’s, and that the alcohol she had imbibed had made her sick on top of the medication she had taken earlier. She wasn’t sure she could drive home. This, on top of my own events at the end of the night, rather aggravated me. I was already in a pretty bad mood, and this didn’t help. She said she was going to Katrina’s to drink some coffee until she felt better, then drive home. She called me from home around 06:00. Needless to say, my Sunday was pretty much shot, since I didn’t get to bed until about 06:30.
Oh, well…such is the life of a bar star, eh? Now I remember why I quit drinking.
posted by Paul J. Smith | 14:33
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