We’ve already reached that point in the tour when water has become more valuable than beer.
While I do enjoy indulging in a new region’s local cuisine & customs, sometimes a hot cup of soup is enough to get me by. The ‘tour cough’ has started going around & we’re all banding together to nip it in the bud before it gets worse, so no more sharing bottles and sampling each other’s menu choices. This is reality, & rules as well as roles must be maintained in order to function as a unit.
On a good day it works like this:
We arrive in the town of the gig & czeck into the hotel first thing.
Between the rhythm section & lead guitarist, there is always a single room up for grabs. At the beginning of a tour, a rotation of the single room is established, usually by a game of cards, Roschambaud or a pissing contest (distance & accuracy both taken into final scoring – see appendix for details).
In the rare but occasional case there are three single rooms, OR the due recipient waves his right to the single room, the order is reestablished the following night either in continuation or determined anew via Gnagno, gin rummy, poker, backgammon, ping-pong, shit on your neighbor, or Scopa, etc.
Bus call determines the time everybody is to be ready to board the BSAV (burgundy suburban assault vehicle)the next day for travel. We’ve trained to be able to wake up, gather our clothes & all sundry accoutrements, zip up the cases, shower & be fed or stocked with edibles & ready to roll. Believe me, this isn’t always so easy, but we’re all getting better at it. Realizing & owning the notion that this hotel room & this van & this club & dozens others just like it are where you will be living for the next 9 weeks is a big idea to get used to. The best part of all the labor is playing– it’s the reward for the gear humping, the learning, the rehearsing.
The soundczecks are either pointless or loads of fun depending on the mood, the atmosphere, the equipment & the backstage & rider. The last two are of utmost importance in determining the mood. If there is, say, a bottle of cranberry juice that isn’t loaded with sugar, or a good local cheese, fresh fruits or a bottle of decent Absinth, there is an immediate uplifting of spirits before the load in begins. This is an ideal situation of course, but hell, I’m happy if there is plates & plasticware and a decent knife so we can properly cut the cheese.
Tonight, “My Black Cloud” was fantastic & so was the introductory medley of songs from the new album– the 3-headed monster of “Lust Pavillion,” “Invisible,” and “Launching Sanity’s Dice.”
OK the reception just called & said in a cute french accent “you must leave the room since 20 minutes… will post more pix when we get to Montpelier.