Entries from JBB’s guitarist Mike Keenan

12/20 Saturday, Portland, OR

It’s usually a short and painless ride from Seattle to Portland but once again Mother Nature was challenging our commitment. As we slowly slid into Portland I received a call that my flight home Sunday at 6:00am was already canceled. We set up at the Aladdin Theater and I cringed thinking — huge venue + snow storm = demoralizing end of tour. Thankfully I was wrong. Our manager Seth moved here a few months ago and was convinced he could promote the hell out of this show. While we could have used a lot more people in there it was by no means empty. In addition, those who braved the weather were good and rowdy. That might just be Portland at night from what I hear.

Over the next few days the entire band experienced varying degrees of travel hell. I think Jocko fared the worst arriving home on the 24th. I was lucky enough to only get sodomized for cab fare to the airport, a 4-hour delay in Portland (after the initial day and a half of delays), a rescheduled transfer flight at the wrong airport in NYC, a cancelled rescheduled flight from NYC to Boston and arriving in Boston after the trains and buses were shut down. Thankfully my sister came to get me at 2:00am. 48 hours of travel, cancellations and layovers– home at last.

12/19 Friday, Seattle, WA

By the next morning the weather had calmed down but more was coming. We decided to get to Seattle early to make sure there were no issues. Seattle also was glazed over. We drove past a bus accident that left two buses dangling over the interstate. I’m guessing they’ll budget in some snow removal equipment next year.

We played a club called the Tractor in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. Someone gave Scott a shirt that confirmed my theory of the Northwest being edgy, educated and over-caffeinated. It simply read: Stalactite, Trilobite, Troglodyte, Ballardite.

We’ve had a little trouble nailing down the “right club” for us in Seattle. The Tractor might be the one. Considering that the roads were glazed and mass transit was a mess after the accident our numbers were okay. Trolls Cottage and Kore Ionz opened the show. Both bands were cool. I hung out a bit with some of the guys from Kore Ionz. They are donating 50% of the money they make on their new record to a Seattle non-profit called the Service Board. We were hoping Daniel Pak would jump up and sing with us if the spirit moved him. Maybe next time.

12/18 Thursday, Victoria, BC

The snow had been falling gently for a few days now. Back East we’d have just called it pretty Christmas weather and barely noticed. Here however, the world came to a stand still. This pittance of snow had been packed down instead of removed making the roads very dangerous. We got on I-5 to go to Victoria and it was a glazed parking lot. We put our chains on and were still barely in control. We drove a few hours before Elliot made the call to cancel the Victoria show.

We apologize and will be back.

12/16 Tuesday, Olympia, WA

The Northwest is my favorite region of the U.S. There is an edginess here that reminds me of Boston a bit. In Olympia we played the back of a large theatre. It’s a little hard to imagine but we set up with our backs to the seats and the crowd was in what would normally be the backstage area. It’s great dual usage of a cool space. The stage door was covered with posters from all the regional heavyweights that had played here. We were in good company. While the sound was tricky at first, once it was sorted this turned out to be a great gig. Prior to the gig I asked the band to help me make a video birthday greeting for my youngest son. The finished product was pretty funny but he still doesn’t like “Daddy’s band.”

After the gig Nate, Matt and I tried to hit last call at the Clipper. We were too late but the theatre manager and her husband were there and invited us to follow them to another spot around the corner. It was a pool hall that had already closed for the night. The manager was with us and asked what we wanted. We said anything local. His brilliant response was “dark or hoppy?” I went hoppy while Nate and Matt chose dark. There were no bad choices though. We played a little pool, talked about music and the Northwest scene and capped off a good night. When we left the bar it was snowing. This is apparently very unusual. In fact Olympia doesn’t seem to have plows. It snowed off and on for the next day or so and the city just shut down and waited for the snow to melt.

12/15 Monday, travel day

When we returned to Seattle it was colder than usual. It was about 45 degrees, which is not at all bad for this time of year in Boston but it was a little shock to the system after the comfort of HI.

12/14 Sunday, Big Island madness

We have been lucky enough to play Hawai’i twice this year. Each time we do I always get this feeling that I might never be able to come back so some of us try to wring every bit of adventure out of days like these. We’ve developed a new motto- “What would Shaun Goodwin do?” For starters we thought he’d go snorkeling in Kealakekua Bay. It’s an underwater marine sanctuary covered in coral and teaming with sea life. Nate, Matt, Elliot and I decided to go for it. Matt recently bought an underwater camera and got some amazing pictures of fish, eels, turtles and coral.

Captain Liam works for a small outfit that takes people in zodiacs over to the bay. Unfortunately I can’t remember the company’s name but they are located by the boat ramp around the corner from the Sheraton in Kona. Liam was a champ. He rattled off facts about the history, geology, sea life and volcanic activity of the area during the whole trip. At one point he was showing us lava tubes that fed into the sea when he got a call on the radio about some whales being spotted not far from our position. He cut short his talk and gunned the dual 150 horse motors in the direction of the whales as we had previously heard humpback whales spend their winters in Hawai’i. As we approached the position one of the whales breached. There were two young whales together. It was an amazing sight. Liam cut the engines at a safe distance and the immature whales still seemed massive. They were in a playful mood breaching several times and then vanishing into the abyss. It was Liam’s first sighting of the year and we were all pretty stoked.

We returned in the late afternoon, got a bite to eat then headed to a large patio at the hotel. At dusk they shine a huge spotlight on the water which attracts huge Manta Rays in pursuit of plankton. In keeping with our new motto Matt decided he needed to swim with the Mantas. He climbed down the patio onto the volcanic rock formations. The seas however were very rough and while he could easily get by jumping, there was no obvious way out. Mission aborted. I hung on to the patio railing and dropped my leg down for Matt to pull himself up. We know Shaun would have prevailed but after all he’s slightly insane.

12/13 Saturday, Kona

We played a fairly new venue called Rockstarz. It reminded me of an L.A. showcase club. I got the sense that this place is run by the highest-level road dogs when they are not on tour with so-and-so. The room wasn’t small but seemed that way because of the enormo-dome style lighting and PA. They took great care of us and we hope to make this a regular stop.

12/12 Friday, Maui

This morning’s paper claimed 11” of rain fell on parts of Oahu yesterday. Damn! I brought the newspaper home because no one engaged in a New England winter believes anything like this happens in paradise.

This was a whirlwind trip to the Hardrock Café in Maui. We flew in, ate, played, went to the hotel and flew out. There’s a pillar in the middle of the stage so Tommy set up in a corner and I set up next to Nate behind the horns. A little odd but hey it’s Maui.

After the show Matt and I made a serious attempt to get to Haleakala (the house of the sun) for sunrise. We’ve been told that it’s one of those things that need to be seen. We couldn’t find a willing and sober candidate to drive and our driver said it would be almost impossible to make it back for our flights in the morning.

As we left the venue someone a little too stoned to be trusted said “You should go swimming and listen for the whales man…” The promoters of this run were putting us up in beautiful hotels. We were on the water. For the usual mischievous suspects a late night swim was definitely in the cards. Matt noticed that there was an outrigger on the lawn by the water…and ornate koa wood paddles in our rooms. I loved the idea of taking out the outrigger but it was ultimately easier to just get in the waves. My skeptical nature runs deep especially with “hippy facts” but I have to admit there was a distant and distinct cow like sound at about 3:30 in the morning underwater. I made Matt, Nate and Scott each swim individually underwater to confirm it. I stand corrected.

12/11 Thursday, Honolulu

On the plane over from the mainland I read an ad in a magazine about how winter in Hawai’i is amazing because it rains so rarely. This was one of my first thoughts as I woke up to find it relentlessly raining sideways. It was like a hurricane that someone forgot to name. It went on all day. By the time we headed to the club it had calmed down to just plain raining but power was out in places, roads were washed out and mudslides were being reported on the radio. Our friends Go Jimmy Go were on the bill with us again tonight. We’d love to do an East Coast run with these guys. They’ve been a huge help to us in Hawai’i. I’ve always thought they’d be famous if they lived in NYC or LA but they might lose their island vibe. Another great band writing hits for their friends while FM radio vomits out drivel.

We need to thank all the people that braved the weather and made it out tonight. Mahalo.

12/7-10 Travel days from Hell

I guess they don’t teach geography in schools anymore. I don’t ever remember making the honor roll but I do take issue with traveling 4000 miles between gigs. Maybe if commissions were paid after expenses this might start to make sense. The drive through Wisconsin, South Dakota, Montana, Idaho and Washington was expectedly hellish for the season. There was snow, sleet and rain. With perfect weather it’s a long ride. Now reduce your speed to 35mph due to crap weather, spend 18-hour days in a packed van and give me your sanity update after 4 days. Here are a few things that we found amusing
during our hatefest. Yah right…no way…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skCV2L0c6K0

http://www.fat-pie.com/salad.htm

We left Seattle on the afternoon of the 10th and arrived in Oahu later that evening. The warmth of the air felt amazing after the last week. We had the honor of playing Hawaii in May and were pretty psyched to be back. My sense of time was pretty out of whack and after getting a bite to eat I walked Waikiki Beach for awhile and then headed back to the Wyland Hotel.

There were guest computers in the lobby and after quickly calculating East Coast time I thought I’d send an email to my wife to check in. She replied immediately to “Please call.” There was some family drama unfolding and I wasn’t traveling with a cell phone. It was also too late to make a Skype call from my room. So out I went wandering the streets of Honolulu in search of that increasingly endangered species; the pay phone.

Although it was very late, the bars were still open. There was a strange assortment of police, prostitutes, pimps and ultra drunk tourists out. The bar patrons seemed to re-define drunkenness. I’ve coined this state of consciousness “vacation drunk.” Everyone seemed like they were on shore leave after being told they have 6 months to live. I felt like I didn’t have a part in this play. That mixed with walking with a purpose probably made me seem a little like a serial killer with a “Jack the Ripper” complex. I eventually found a phone and made a pathetic attempt to help the situation back home.

As I walked by the bars again I couldn’t help but wonder how this late night street equation works. The cops were at each corner. The pimps would stroll out of the alleys if someone approached one of their girls. The girls were your classic dead obvious prostitutes. The pimps were monstrous Samoan looking guys that seemed like they might enjoy randomly bludgeoning tourists for fun. Let it be noted that, were this an actual Hawaiian activity, by my estimate society would be better off. What I still couldn’t wrap my head around was how much the police were actually turning a blind eye. Was it a huge racket where you agree to terms with the prostitute, get mugged and then get arrested? Curious…

12/6 Saturday, Madison, WI

Madison is one of those legendary gig/party towns that I have somehow never played. We hadn’t been there in at least three years. Madison and Chicago are the two Midwest cities that everyone loves to play and here they were back to back.

I have a lot of family in Minnesota and Wisconsin and one of my cousins made it out. It’s funny, I like all of my Midwestern relatives but only see them at weddings and funerals. Maybe we can start adding gigs to that list.

12/5 Friday, Chicago, IL

Damn it’s COLD! Now I have firsthand experience of what Albert Collins was singing about in “Snowed In.” I was freezing all night and my fingers were holding a silent rebellion. Luckily reggae isn’t brain surgery.

12/4 Thursday, Ann Arbor, MI

Ann Arbor is a quiet college town not far from Detroit. It’s been about five years since we’ve been out here. We played a place called the Blind Pig. It’s been there since the 70’s and has that classic old rock club vibe and smell. If you squint with your senses enough there can be a certain romanticism in that sort of thing. I’m sure there have been some great shows there over the years especially with Detroit having put out so many great artists.

The venue staff were a little standoffish until Jocko had a conversation with the manager about the Syracuse punk scene and thoughts of tazing hippies. Once we passed this unofficial security clearance the locally brewed handcrafted ales arrived in time for the show. It was a close call for General Veto and Toth whose respective mojos seem ale-fueled.

A large contingent of my wife’s family and their friends were on hand showing support, refusing the guest list and buying merch. Above and beyond the call of duty. Special thanks go out to the Hughes clan.

12/3 Wednesday, Pittsburgh, PA

Millvale, PA to be more precise. This is a pretty serious working class town. I didn’t see a single vacuous, white collar, paper-shuffling, self-obsessed twit in my short stay. My years working in Southie have given me a certain appreciation for that. Everyone we met seemed smarter and worked harder than their economic footing would suggest. Don’t get me wrong, watching the news you realize this community has major issues. The morning after the gig the news included 2 major house fires, an ax attack, the sentencing of a man that invaded an elderly couple’s house causing the wife to die of a heart attack, an elderly woman dying on the roof of a local hospital and eight cars being set ablaze. Most importantly it seemed was the news that Stealers QB Ben Rothsberger had injured his knee. Everybody needs heroes and hope. Fixing the economy will do a lot to fix society. I always want places like this to find the new, better economic vehicle and not forget their recession lessons.

The gig went pretty well. It was our first night out with Spiritual Rez. Scott Flynn used to play with these guys so there is a fairly automatic comfort level. The Rez crew have obscene music school chops that they brandish with reckless abandon and tons of energy.

11/17-12/2 off

Back to home and the reality check of contract work to offset the financial losses of a full-time music career. It was a good trip home and the personal guilt of being away for both of my sons’ birthdays makes leaving again difficult. My youngest doesn’t like “Daddy’s band.”

11/15-16 Saturday-Sunday Live Oak FL

The Live Oak Music Festival is a big two-day extravaganza. There were a lot of great acts and a pretty jovial artists’ dining hall. We did two sets. One was inside at night and the other was outside on Sunday afternoon. Both went well.

There were also these two sketchy dudes that kept blowing shit up.

11/14 Friday, travel day/Jacksonville, FL

Another long day in the van… After the Asheville show Scott had to take a few days and go to San Francisco on some family business. Adam Dotson from the Rubblebucket Orchestra subbed for him. He’s from South Carolina and taught us the joys of boiled peanuts. Later that night he and our merch girl Jen hung out being groovy and devouring raw garlic while I dealt with the Guitar Center ordeal from Richmond. Since I normally room with Scott, Adam was in my room. The next morning the stench from our room was vile. Garlic processed through hippie ass is putting it lightly. New rule: Anybody partaking in the groovy garlic club has to room together. Case closed.

11/13 Thursday, Charleston, SC

With good reason, when people want to debate about John Brown or any aspect of his ethics etc. they are sent to me. The combination of this and my outspoken lefty views had me a little nervous about playing the reddest red state. There is after all a precedent for violence-based political disagreement in the South. That being said I found Charleston to be cool. I went across the street from the club to get a bite to eat and was shocked to see the Rachel Maddow show on in the bar.

This was our last night on tour with Mishka. It had been a good run and they’re all great people. We dragged Darryl Thompson on stage for “What We Gonna Do.” He brought a Hendrix vibe to the tune that I hadn’t thought of.

The following morning I was on a mission to experience a South Carolina delicacy that my sister’s boyfriend mentioned: Shrimp and Grits. I found it fairly easily and loved it. When the waitress noticed my enthusiasm she gave me the recipe. That just doesn’t happen in New England.

11/12 Wednesday, Asheville, NC

My older sister moved to Asheville years ago. She loves it there. The community seems like an oasis in a state that sent Jesse Helms to congress for so many years. We played the Orange Peel. It’s one of the nicest clubs I’ve ever seen and the sound is amazing. After sound check I met up with my sister and her boyfriend. I made introductions and then they brought me to a great Jamaican restaurant. My sister works for public radio and does freelance writing here. She knows everyone in the local media and helped us promote the show. Thanks for that. She did mention however that our promotional people shot themselves in the foot by not doing any follow up work. Maybe that’s why I’m still living on green powder when we travel.

11/11 Tuesday, Richmond, VA

Equipment sometimes fails. It’s a fact of life. When we arrived in Richmond we unloaded the trailer and set up. My gear was working fine. I went to tune my other guitar. When I came back my Line6 PODXT Live was unresponsive. The lights still worked but about half the buttons stopped working. The last time this happened some sales weasel at Guitar Center sold me a warranty that he claimed was perfect for the touring musician. He claimed that if something happened to the piece of gear I just walk in and hand in the broken item and they hand me a functional one. Great! He was however, lying. Elliot and I found a nearby GC where they were utterly useless to do anything other than sell me a new piece of gear. My personal favorite moment was when the GC spokes-liar claimed he didn’t have any information from other stores, warranties or past transactions. Then he asked me for my phone number and promptly pulled up all of my information, including of course, all of my purchases going back several years. In the end I was out a bunch of money but was able to do a full system restore of all my settings in time for the show. Another bullet dodged.

When all the trouble was sorted out an old bourbon comrade of mine from Charlottesville arrived. He’s an obscenely talented actor, artist, musician, comedian and now puppeteer. His name is or rather was Ben Jones until some other actor made him change it. Now he’s Benjamin Brodrick Jones. Here is one of his latest creations-
http://odeo.com/channels/2105745-Jigsaw-Video-Thing/episodes

Richmond seems like the sort of place we’ll be playing regularly. We hadn’t been there in a long time and had pretty good turnout for a Tuesday night. I saw none of the town. Next time.

11/10 Monday, Washington DC/day off

It took some arm twisting but somehow I talked the entire band into visiting the Smithsonian on our day off. We parked on the national Mall and scattered in several directions. I had never been there before and tried to cover a lot of ground. Nate, Matt, Elliot and I hit the Air and Space Museum first. Then Nate went to the Native American Museum. Matt went to the Portrait Gallery and I went to the Natural History Museum. The Natural History Museum was amazing. I only had time to see the first two floors before the lights were unceremoniously shut off. I made my way to the main entrance and found the doors locked. Then more lights went out. Now I was laughing to myself thinking about that Ben Stiller movie imagining myself locked in for the night. I eventually found the last unlocked doors and made my way to the van.

11/9 Sunday, Falls Church, VA

The State is a big, old, well-kept theatre in Falls Church, VA. It was an early show on a mellow Sunday. There was an old military motorcycle designed to be dropped from a plane for sale in the lobby. Other than that however the place was very reminiscent of a different era. Backstage it was another night of music nerding with Darryl. How often do you get the chance to discuss the practical application of the modes of the Melodic Minor though?

11/8 Saturday, Harrisburg, VA

Harrisburg is a strangely tough town. Right after we pulled in I looked down and found a 9mm bullet on the ground. We played a “split” club. Upstairs was a giant dance club that was packed to the gills with cologne-drenched, knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathers and their female counterparts who like to challenge the structural integrity of spandex. Downstairs was a dark, dingy rock hall.

After sound check I hung around the club with Darryl Thompson having a few beers and listening to music. We were both in one of those “anything but reggae” moods. The playlist included Coltrane Plays the Blues, Dominic Miller playing Bach’s partita for solo violin in G minor, Marc Ribot, Yngwie Malmsteen and some Sinead O’Connor. The gig went well. An old friend of mine nicknamed Guido showed up somewhat unexpectedly with his wife. It had been awhile since we’d hung out and we laughed about our children picking up some of the more devious characteristics of our personalities.

Around the time we finished loading out of the club all the bars on the street shut down. Throngs of the above-mentioned citizens flooded the streets and just kind of hung out. It had the disgusting air of a middle school hallway before a fight. Alcohol-fueled empowerment. You could tell something was going to happen. This was after all where I found the bullet. We left before anything did in fact “happen”. When we got to our hotel there was a mandatory evacuation by the fire department. Luckily we’d been invited for an afterhour’s tour of the Troegs Brewery. It was a short walk to fresh pints. I found the Espresso Stout to be amazing. It’s not in production yet but watch for it.

11/7 Friday, Secaucus, NJ/Troy, NY

I hate New Jersey. Every time we drive through my hatred is re-invigorated. The only possible exception I know of is Hoboken. I’m always told how nice it is but never see it. In addition our vehicles always seem to break down here. After waking up I went for a walk and immediately noticed signs warning against eating blue clawed crabs in the river next to the hotel. Apparently they, like most things in Jersey, are full of carcinogens. I walked for awhile and after finding nothing but industrial waste I turned back towards the hotel and stopped at a Rainforest Café nearby. Since we were stranded I asked if the coffee was good and if there was anything to do in the area. “Go to the Mawl hun, they gut outlets and cawffee at the Mawl.” “I’m gonna go smoke a butt while you decide what you’d like. OK hun?”

Elliot returned with the van fixed around 2:30 so we drove straight to Troy but were too late for a sound check. This also cut into the time I needed to troubleshoot my rig. Thankfully the sound crew had a cable tester. Two of my cables failed testing and that seemed to be the problem from NY.

11/6 Thursday, New York, New York

Some nights everything goes wrong. Tonight it’s equipment. We all met on our own accord in NYC. I took the Lucky Star bus down from Boston. It was the usual horror show but traffic wasn’t bad. When I arrived I set up and for some reason my power amp was intermittently cutting out. I am always prepared for this by having a direct line from my POD but we were providing backline for the other bands tonight and some people aren’t comfortable with that. Thankfully everyone was cool with the direct line. Disaster #1 averted. Next, the bass rig. Nate was spending as much time as possible with his girlfriend before she went to India for a few months. So he vanished right after our sound check. When Mishka’s bassist plugged in something was wrong. The sound crew were frantically “ruling things out.” The compressor, the preamp, cables who knows. As it turns out it was an ultra rookie mistake: active pickups that needed a new 9v battery. Disaster #2 averted, the gig went well, so far so good.

Disaster #3 proved a little more challenging. The van had sagging power, engine knock and weak breaks. As a result we drove to Secaucus, NJ to spend the night and go to a dealership in the morning. While this hotel holds some fond memories from the early days of courtship with my wife Jennifer, Secaucus itself is a wasteland.

11/2-5 Sunday-Wednesday, Home

A much better visit home. The tension from the shake up seems to have subsided as my family gets a little more comfortable with our new life. In addition contract work is starting to come in. The pieces of the financial puzzle aren’t together yet but things are looking better.
On the morning of November 3rd Jennifer and I volunteered for the Obama campaign in Gloucester, MA. We were calling Democrats in swing states, reminding them to vote, telling them where their polling locations are and offering to arrange transportation if necessary. It felt good to help even in this small way. The following evening we went to a party at Cameron’s in Gloucester to watch the election results come in. It was a pretty amazing night.

11/1 Saturday, Boston, MA

Boston is one of our stronghold cities. The Paradise is a great place to not only play a show but see one. In its long history the “Dice” has hosted several epic shows including U2’s first show in America. It’s always a mad house but a lot of fun. In the early days of JBB the “Jam band” scene was happening and they cross-pollinated the genres by inviting people to play with them pretty regularly and casually. The new lineup isn’t really going for that thing anymore but it is nice to occasionally have guests sit in. Tonight it was Dana Colley from Morphine. He’s Boston music royalty in our eyes and absolutely killed it.

Halloween! 10/31 Friday, Rochester, NY

It only took two hours and a condescending lecture to cross the border today. Tommy suggested we chant U.S.A!,U.S.A!,U.S.A! Nobody went for it. We got to Rochester fairly early. Tonight was our first show with Mishka. He and his band are very cool seasoned players. Daryl Thompson, his guitarist has played with Sly and Robbie, Black Uhuru, Sinead O’Connor and Peter Tosh among others. He is a monster player and a completely inspiring teacher. He’s the sort of player that has so much knowledge at his fingertips but still craves more and is happy to teach others. The night went well.

We got into the Halloween thing a bit. Several of us rocked zombie face paint. We think Toth enjoyed it a little too much…

10/30 Thursday, Toronto, Canada

The only thing more fun than my skull-crushing headache today was getting extorted by the Canadian Border Patrol. A couple of the guys in our crew have minor incidents on their records. We’ve been to Canada several times without a problem. Today however we had to wait 3 hours and pay $200 dollars to cross the border.

When we finally got to the Tattoo Rock Parlor the Misfits were on and there was a cool Goth vibe in the room. The stage however was tiny. We were so late that the opening band had already set up. The crowd was small but appreciative.

10/29 Wednesday, Syracuse

Today was a drive day and given the stresses of home I was happy to be out of the house. Having not played in a week, my plan was to lock myself in a room at Jocko’s studio with bottle of bourbon and a guitar. I intended to play until I fell over. Jocko’s assistant Master Mook brought Tommy, Nate and I into town to get some food and watch the last game of the World Series. When the game ended Tommy went back to the studio and Mook brought Nate and me to a place called “Bar” where shots just kept showing up. It was one of those slightly awkward moments when we knew we should have refused the drinks after a certain point but didn’t want to be impolite. The night got a little excessive. We stumbled back to Jocko’s and regretted Mook’s hospitality for the next 24 hours or so. So much for the best laid plans.

10/19-28 Time Off at home

On October 19th I returned to Boston, my wife, and two young boys. My three-year-old promptly gave me a Harry Potter-esque lightning-bolt shaped scratch on my forehead – he was a little pissed. My older son, who’s an Aspie and future Bill Gates, was happy to see me but together with my wife found the disruption to the routine unnerving. I usually leave the house before they wake up in the morning to splice fiber in the dark subterranean corners of the metro-Boston area… or worse. Being persona non grata at home is a great feeling.

The contract work I’d been verbally promised to supplement gig pay had somehow dried up. Welcome to the cruel world. I’ve always known that promoting this record would cost me money. I figured it needed to be done as an investment to get to the next level. JBB employs a small army of players and pays industry standard agent rates. What trickles down to the actual players is a joke in the context of a family of four. If you think being a musician is all groupies and popping flashbulbs, think again! The rest of the week was spent looking for work and trying to convince the state that we really are below the poverty level and should qualify for subsidized health insurance since we are legally required to have coverage.

Meanwhile the republicans in this town, who are pretty reticent, private and unmotivated until faced with things like a wildly well-organized Obama 4th of July parade presence and a town full of Obama-Biden lawn signs, have taken to surreptitiously removing all the high-visibility signs. The signs were promptly replaced by the Cape Ann Democrats – only to be stolen again. Trespassing and stealing: at least they’re in the correct party with the proper role models for that sort of chicanery. Even though we’ve been heeding the advice of our local party organizers – “don’t get mad, get involved” – it’s hard to resist the urge to walk down School Street and attach a small sign that says “another moron for,” “the fundamentals of the economy are sound,” “Bush III,” “Iraq forever,” or “F the people,” on all the McCain/Palin signs. Now the Dems are getting enormous, porch-sized signs, some are even decorating them with lights, and putting them in their front yards. Halloween should prove interesting…

10/18 Saturday, Englewood, CO

Englewood is a Denver suburb with a strange David Lynch vibe to it. We played the Gothic which is another big old theatre. Jocko and I walked around the street the club is on and quickly found a survival store that had books on how to survive the apocalypse and such. The owner was friendly and gave us a pile of CDs to listen to and a list of essentials we’ll all need “when the time comes.” Our next stop was a huge Catholic shop. It was the Home Depot of Christianity. The proprietor was a woman that seemed too young for such a career and had a creepily soothing voice. Jocko asked permission to take a picture by the wall of crosses.

After this photo was taken we briefly went to a cool locally owned music shop. In the age of the Guitar Center monopoly they are becoming increasingly rare and worth supporting. Jocko then went back to the club and I continued to wander. There were two army surplus stores but they weren’t the kind I like that sell slightly used inexpensive practical outdoor gear. In fact one of them was a bit of a labyrinth that had a leather store way in the back. The employees had a strange angry gay rapist vibe. I expected to see the trap door under a rug where the “Gimp” from Pulp Fiction would be “waiting.” I’m out!

A little up the road was a Native American arts shop. Normally I wouldn’t bother but I was killing time. There were standard bead type things in the front but in a back room there was every fur, feather, hide, bone and shell imaginable. In addition there were large jars of herbs that could be purchased in bulk. Not your standard issue Bread and Circus herbs either. While I was there a woman came in looking for buffalo scraps to make a baby bunting. I loved the idea of it and could easily imagine her bunting being sold in some upscale Newbury St.-breeding-yuppie-twit shop for an ungodly price. And also the pretentiousness with which it would then be paraded around town.

Back at the club everyone was getting used to the smell of the backstage and killing all the flies they could. Nog chompra stat! Later in the evening Sean Goodwin returned. On his kayak trip with the future Olympians he’d paddled through some pristine areas where nothing could be left behind. Without access to running water I think you know where this is headed… The girls left several bags of their personal refuse in one of the hatches of Sean’s kayak. Sean, being friends with GPGDS saw this as an opportunity to play a world class prank. He snuck into their Sprinter upon arrival and hid the refuse bags under the seats of their vehicle. Brutal. All band vehicles smell. BO, morning breath, drunk breath, gas, gig shirts, garbage, leftover food all add up to make the unique smell of a band vehicle-your home away from home. Maybe it’s because the windows don’t open in the Sprinter but their van is particularly pungent. My best evidence of this is that they didn’t stop to solve the “problem” for about 2-3 hours after the gig! When they finally did they were convinced something had died in there. The horror! Revenge has been sworn but avenging the Goodwin brothers is a tall order. To add insult to injury Sean and Matt composed a tune called “Shit Sprinter” that they sang to James while the smell of death issue was being resolved.

10/17 Friday, Boulder, CO

There just aren’t many venues as cool as the Fox Theatre. Another great night. GPGDS asked the horns and Matt up for a new dub. There was a loose coolness to it but it sounded much better in Englewood. We had Dylan up again on “Struggling.” Great vibes all around.

10/16 Thursday, Vail, CO

As the locals might say- “Drivin’ from Breck’ to Vail is like nuthin’ brah.” Not to mention 8000’ feet above sea level feels great now. We arrived early. Seth, Nate, Matt, Alex and I began a fairly brutal game of “Wall ball” at the hotel. It’s a silly school yard game that gets ugly in the hands of adults. With nothing broken and minimal blood lost it was time to load in. The Sandbar is an unlikely venue for us but the only one in Vail I’ve ever played. It’s a sports bar where the post-work patrons get pissed if you attempt to sound check. Thankfully the evening crowd wants there to be live music. There’s no more useful tool for inducing the crowd change than Slayer’s “Reign in Blood.” It didn’t come to that but we keep Slayer on call. On this particular evening it wasn’t the locals that kept us from sound checking but a Red Sox/Rays playoff game. It was the best game of the soon to be ill-fated series. The Red Sox made a huge come back late in the game. Finally they looked alive! Later onstage Elliot gave mock congratulations to the Sox fans in the room and then added that the last time the Red Sox won in an election year we got four more years of Bush. “So root against the Red Sox and for Barack Obama.” In the immortal words of Jocko, what an idiot.

10/15 Wednesday, Breckenridge, CO

Way up in the Rockies (9600’ to be exact), load in/out becomes a challenge. We played 320 Main. It was the first sold out show under new management/ownership so spirits were high. The bar and stage are downstairs. When the venue is full it feels fairly claustrophobic. The backstage area is under the stairs and has a sauna-type feel. That didn’t help. My involuntary worst case scenario thoughts brought the Station Night Club to mind. Hold the pyro please.

On a lighter note, the consummate life of the party- Sean Goodwin arrived tonight with the US Women’s Ski Team prospects. They had literally just gotten back from a week long “team building” kayak trip. They hadn’t seen running water for a week and just raged out without an ounce of east coast hygiene neurosis. I remember asking Sean how they know who would make a good prospect at such a young age. He said it takes a fairly unique personality to strap on skis and do 65 mph down a mountain of ice. It takes a psycho to know a psycho I guess.

The girls played a dirty trick on Sean later in the night that was repeated in Englewood to GPGDS…more on that later.

10/13-14 Off in Boulder

Since Elliot is still in recovery mode from his throat surgery our tour schedule is intentionally spotty. This makes for easy touring but is financially nerve wracking. That being said Boulder is a great place to lay low. We stay at the University Inn. It is right next to the Boulder Creek and they have several bikes that are available to guests. Across the street is a Wild Oats Market. There are several great locally owned coffee shops and hiking in the nearby hills.

I took this time to work on a few music projects, catch up on emails, hike and of course enjoy the benefits of Vega meal replacement (aka “the life affirming powder”). It has been decided that I must contact Brendan Brazier, tell him that I live on this stuff on the road and get an endorsement deal.

10/12 Sunday, travel day

Late last night we spent a very long time trying to find our hotels in a largely uninhabited ski resort. There were a string of dark jokes about going out on a Buddy Holly style high note. After playing a sold out show with a #1 record it seemed like the point where we have an icy crash on one of those crazy Colorado cliff roads. When we woke up this morning the view was magnificent. Our rooms were on the third floor looking out over a beautiful Rocky Mountain valley. With no particular obligations today other than a drive to Boulder I enjoyed a breakfast of beer and bananas followed by long boarding and snowball fights which devolved into picking off the long boarders with snow balls.

10/11 Saturday, Aspen, Colorado

Aspen, CO: yet another playground of the privileged. We love the upper classes and they do seem to like us but at some level it feels like being a medieval court jester. “Muffy let’s go see the proletariat perform their heartfelt music.”

The drive from Fort Collins to Aspen is beautiful. At 8200’ of elevation these clubs have unique features like oxygen machines backstage. It’s officially the off season for Aspen and the staff had a low expectation of turnout. To our pleasant surprise we sold the club out! We played the Belly Up. The club features high quality pictures of many of the artists that have played there. Early in the set Nate broke the A string on his bass. By some feat of musical genius he finished the entire set without missing a beat. Later in the evening as he and I were reviewing things we wondered if there’d be a picture of him on the wall missing his A string next time we come through.

10/10 Friday, Fort Collins, Colorado

We drove all day yesterday to buy ourselves a bit of chill time. Fort Collins is a dead cool city. The bike to car ratio has got to be damn near 1:1. I don’t mean to harp on about food but I see a direct correlation between the availability of good healthy food and the intellect of a city. It seems that every block of the downtown area offers some form of great food, coffee and locally brewed beer. In fact the last time we played here the good people of the New Belgium Brewery gave us the full tour and a major hook up.

The show was filmed tonight and interviews were done with all of the members of the band. Matt, Nate and I did our interviews prior to sound check outside Mugs Coffee. We rarely talk about real things in this organization so it was interesting to hear some of the answers the guys gave. Sometimes just saying something out loud gives it a bit more gravity. One example of this was when I was asked about my history with the band. I recounted first working with Elliot back in 1990 and it suddenly seemed like a million years ago. Without a #1 record that might have hit me like a ton of masochistic bricks I’d somehow dropped on myself.

10/8 Wednesday, Santa Fe, New Mexico

This morning Seth informed us that Amplify made its debut at #1 on the Billboard reggae charts. Damn that feels good. It validates those career choices that conventional wisdom would deem insane. To be honest I didn’t believe him – I needed to see it online. Maybe FM radio will give us a chance now. There’s no musical reason they shouldn’t. Then maybe we could crack the regular charts.

Santa Fe is a great looking city. The downtown area is mostly adobe style architecture. There are 300 restaurants, tons of local art and jewelry. It’s a great place to purchase something to make amends for being away from a wife or girlfriend. The gig was at the Santa Fe Brewing Company. We have a collective weakness for micro-breweries so actually playing one is potentially a recipe for disaster. Thankfully it was an early show so we got the “work” out of the way early. There was a small but enthusiastic crowd. Sometimes these smaller gigs can be the most memorable. I dare say tonight was one of those nights.

10/7 Tuesday, Flagstaff, Arizona

First off – happy birthday Mom.

I received an email from my mother today saying she’d become fed up with the coverage of the election and had fired off a letter to the editor. She assailed McCain’s ignorance and arrogance. I like it.

Sometimes I believe iTunes is prescient. The first thing I heard today was Public Enemy’s “By the Time I Get to Arizona.” For those that don’t know it’s about AZ and NH not celebrating MLK day and a possible consequence. After the previous night’s border patrol fun I couldn’t stop thinking about how screwed up AZ is. It is insane to populate the desert. It’s fall and the noonday sun was so strong I couldn’t imagine what August is like. There is no water. The landscape is beautiful but dead. In the east cities traditionally rose from sheltered harbors and rivers. It seems in the west a railroad line was enough. We drove for hours through lunar landscapes that would be brilliant places for massive solar arrays but we saw a lot more of that in California. That in itself is a reason not to vote for McCain – no matter what he says in the “say anything” season about his new found love of alternative energy.

Flagstaff sits at a fairly high altitude and as we rose things like trees started to appear again. We loaded in, chilled, and chicanery immediately erupted. It involved a package of dried shrimp purchased somewhere… Our little crustacean friends began showing up in people’s bags, on keyboards and even taped to Elliot’s vocal mic.

The show went pretty well aside from a few bumps in the road. At the end of the show all the stage lights were shut off as we left the stage. It was pitch black. Kal tripped on a monitor and badly damaged her tenor sax.

Elliot again made his plea for people to support Obama. Once again a bold move, this time in a red state. Maybe all our fans are in the tank for Obama or maybe everyone here is polite but the comments were well received. Our crude polling methods bode well for Obama.

10/6 Monday, travel day to Arizona

After milking our San Diego experience for all it was worth we got in the van around 5:00 to put a good dent in our long drive to Flagstaff. Everyone was in decent spirits. Around Tempe Jocko found a vegetarian restaurant. Talk about a needle in a soulless strip mall haystack – nice one! Soon we were back on Interstate 8. We watched an episode of Salad Fingers and then Elliot suggested a DVD called “Chopper” about an Australian screw up/folk hero. The movie didn’t keep my attention and I nodded off. Before the movie had ended we were pulled over at a random border patrol checkpoint. Not the actual border, just a check point on Interstate 8. There were huge lights set up, tents where we waited while guards frisked and checked our id’s, many armed guards and several German Shepherds. Travelling with 10 people, their personal items and a trailer full of gear usually presents such a daunting chore that we usually get a quick search then a wave through in situations like this. Not tonight. One of the guards was convinced we had “something.” We stood under a tent watching giant desert insects crawling towards the bright lights for two hours as the border patrol went through every bag. In this time we made several observations that struck us as funny. All of the guards had Mexican sounding last names. What would Lou Dobbs and Rush “drug- addled-gas-bag” Limbaugh have to say about that? In fact one of their name tags read “J Garcia” which elicited a series of Grateful Dead stoner jokes. That probably didn’t help our cause but this was absurd. In our time under the tent we observed several much sketchier looking crews get waved through. One character got a cursory search of his truck. He seemed drunk and announced loudly that they’d find his personal firearm under his seat. He walked over to our tent and asked comically why no one brought drinks to this party? He was free to go in about 5 minutes.

After about two hours the guard with the “guilty until proven innocent” mindset had given up his quest to find “something.” He had the air of a half-assed Scooby Doo villain when he told us that we “got away with it this time…”

10/5 Sunday, Solana Beach, CA

I consider Solana Beach to be America’s Garden of Eden. It’s beautiful – birds of paradise, palm trees, great surfing beaches, cool cafes and Spanish style architecture. It is so different than the New England landscape I’m accustomed to. After sound check I had dinner with Mike and Demetra Brodsky, old friends that are transplants from the east (Mike was in the Tribulations horn section). They have lost weight, are tan, surf and no longer suffer from seasonal depression. Sadly as a consequence of living in Eden they appear to have lost their Boston-area “venom gland.”

For those that don’t know what I mean I’ll try to explain. When something annoys someone from Boston – be it traffic, a co-worker, a priest etc. – we instinctively prepare in our heads roughly three responses. One that serves as a polite nudge to move the situation forward, one that acts like a car horn to startle the recipient, and one that serves as a verbal beheading. What’s interesting is that while we generally keep our actual responses polite, when we relate the story to others we generally go straight to the beheading. The Brodskys like to see this in full effect with me.

The club we played is called the Belly Up. It’s another one of our favorite stops and for the last few years has always been at the end of our west coast runs. Dylan from GPGDS sat in with us on “Struggling” and added a nice dose of Wailers-style sweet licks.

We have a lot of friends out here including our old horn section (Chris “C$” Welter and Dan Delacruz). C$ was on hand with his required entourage, a million stories and the latest in metrosexual/gangsta wear. His stories on this particular evening included lots of Sly & Robbie anecdotes since his new band Slightly Stoopid were on tour with them.

On the way back to the hotel we were having a laugh at the notion of C$ in his 90’s living in a nursing home but still dressing like a pimp and creating a buzz for whatever new project he’s in. At about this time we realized we’d left Tommy B aka “General Veto” at the club. Uh oh. There had been some confusion about whether he’d left with C$. He hadn’t. He was fuming but his rage subsided when he met with a barrage of lighthearted abuse upon opening the van door.

At this point it was pretty late but we could still walk to the beach. So we did. Everyone but Elliot and the General went. I was part of a small contingent that felt the need to body surf in the warm SoCal waves. The next day we came back for more before beginning our drive to Arizona. San Diego rules!

10/4 Saturday, West Hollywood, CA

All right, I’ve been beating around the bush. Last night’s gig was pretty bad. Nate and Matt mentioned having a similar experience. This made us all focus our energies a bit more and made tonight’s gig the best in recent memory. The International Farmers started things off before GPGDS. Both bands played well. We played with IF in San Diego before and it was good to hear them again. They seem very radio-ready and well connected. Their drummer Preston Nelson is the son of Juan Nelson, Ben Harper’s bassist. In fact on this occasion Juan joined the band for a tune he had written.

10/3 Friday, Redondo Beach, CA

After the listening party we stayed in Venice Beach and had a short drive to a club called Brixton in Redondo Beach. The club has a very English vibe with a pub above it. We loaded in, set up and soon discovered some serious wiring issues that plagued me all night. A bunch of my settings would just buzz or squeal in a really unmusical way. I’m not making excuses, just noting that I don’t think I handled the issues well. Ironically I got some playing compliments tonight. I think situations like this sometimes force you out of some ruts that you may not have realized you’ve fallen into.

Prior to the gig Tommy, Scott and I were watching the Red Sox in Kilkenny’s (the pub). The locals definitely didn’t appreciate Red Sox fans in their pub. Maybe that has something to do with the Sox being up two games to none.

All things considered the gig went all right but some drama did erupt later in the evening. Matt O’Brien of GPGDS was loading his gear out when some random homeless looking white dreadlocked character walked up and told him he “played like a faggot tonight.” Words were exchanged until the instigator lost his temper and hit Matt square on the nose. Elliot, Dylan and Danny from the International Farmers promptly tackled the guy. The police were there amazingly quickly. I didn’t see the whole event occur. When I walked upstairs Matt and the other guy were sitting on the ground as the police tried to figure out what happened. It seemed fairly obvious since Matt’s nose was bleeding profusely and the other guy was unscathed – filthy and pathetic but unscathed. The police eventually cuffed and stuffed the wretch. Shortly after that another fight broke out. The cops ran off leaving one guy continuing to question Matt and the other mug in the police car. That might have been a good plan had they…..wait for it…..locked the police car doors. No, I’m not kidding. And people wonder why shows like Reno 911 are made. When the police realized the instigator had escaped they began questioning Matt more intensely. He was eventually arrested for instigating a fight in public. Brilliant. The whole issue was sorted by around 8:00 am.

10/2 Thursday, Santa Monica, CA

We had an Amplify listening party tonight at a club called Zanzibar. Prior to the party we watched the vice presidential debate attentively. It went about as well as can be expected in our PC world. Had Biden or the moderator pointed out Palin’s gaffs or simply requested that she actually answer the questions that surely would have been evidence of “liberal media bias.”

After the debate it took a concerted effort to convince ourselves to go to a club at which we would surely stick out for not being cool or wealthy enough. In the end it was the first night out that I can remember that we all spent socializing together. While the drinks were expensive no one felt horribly out of place. In addition the CD seemed well received by a “club” crowd that we don’t usually rub shoulders with.

10/1 Wednesday, Santa Barbara, CA

Santa Barbara seems like a super upscale beautiful coastal town. I’d never been here before but had heard a lot about the area from my wife who briefly lived nearby in a previous life. The club we played is called Soho. The walls are adorned by several paintings by a local artist. His name is Morris Bear Squire and he was quite the character. He was in his eighties, dressed in a maroon, velour, running suit, dropping names and parading around with his 27-year-old Cambodian trophy wife.

The club treated us very well and didn’t even mind that Tommy and I were rooting for the Red Sox over the Angels as we watched game one of the playoffs.

9/30 Tuesday, San Juan Capistrano, CA

After our day off in Santa Cruz we set off again. We knew it would be a long drive down to Orange County but miscalculated LA traffic a little. I passed part of the time attempting to edit the video footage we got of Scott serenading sea lions on a pier in Santa Cruz. 10 hours later everyone (except Elliot of course) had become a little stir crazy. People were randomly and playfully provoking one another with a moderate emphasis on Jocko. He was being shredded for such crimes against humanity as ordering “hoppy” beer and needing an egg for his first meal of the day in order to consider it breakfast. The horror! After endless ridicule, some wrestling and mindless sign reading aloud we finally got to the club.

The Carriage House is an odd club. Directly in front of the stage are about 8 rows of tables perpendicular to the stage. Directly to the left and right of the stage are the designated “dancing areas.” We do fairly well here but sometimes you look out and see people sitting down looking bored that are actually enjoying the show. You have to remind yourself to look left or right to see people dancing.

There were four bands on the bill: JBB, GPGDS, the Zach Hillyard Band & Roots Vision. I think everyone played well. Roots Vision is a young reggae band with a cool vibe. The ZHB seemed like well-schooled Steely Dan fans that featured a great guitar player. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him but as an unabashed guitar nerd I had to mention this guy (and that’s saying something since I can’t stand Steely Dan).

9/28-29, Sunday & Monday, Santa Cruz

Our reward for staying in the suburban abyss is usually a good grocery store in the morning. Today, it was Whole Foods in San Mateo. I purchased a large vat of Vega meal replacement powder with the intention of not eating any overpriced nutritionally void garbage on the road. We’ll see how that goes. There are skeptics. This was my first trip to Santa Cruz. Our friends The Expendables are from here. We toured with them in 2006 and hear they’re doing very well now. The club we played is called Moe’s Alley. It’s fairly small but very cool and hosts tons of high level legacy reggae acts. We had a decent showing for a Sunday in a town we haven’t played in three years. After the gig we had a small Indian Feast on Moe’s patio. Nice! Very California.

Monday was spent catching up on emails, recording sketches, mailing post cards to my son’s first grade class and checking out the boardwalk. While out walking, Tommy discovered what could be the best bumper sticker yet- “Impeach Bush, Torture Cheney.” Again, very California, great!

9/27, Saturday, San Francisco

The Great American Music Hall is by far one of the coolest venues I’ve ever played. It was built after the infamous earthquake and has been maintained beautifully. The staff are great and serve dinner each night to all the employees and musicians. That sort of thing goes a long way in our fast food nation. The show went very well and GPGDS sounded particularly good.

The show was attended by a huge contingent of Ithacans in town for a wedding in the Ashton family. We didn’t have time to take in the city or wander very far. We tried to find hotels in the area but there was some sort of festival going on that would rattle conservative America to the core (always good). As a result we did our standard move of play some place cool then drive some place less cool for the night to save money.

9/26, Friday, Lake Tahoe

6:00 am arrived a little too quickly. Nate arrived with Big Pete to give us a ride to the airport. I wouldn’t normally spend any time describing the joys of air travel but… this day was special. At the American terminal there was one person checking luggage so the line quickly became obscene and people were heated because of that and the new fee to check bags. Tommy, Nate and I got through but Scott, who was in line behind us missed our flight. The first leg (Boston to Chicago) was uneventful. From Chicago to Reno though…ugh. We were in the back of the plane and the temperature was sweltering. Nate was directly in front of me. Sitting in the seats around us were an extended family that didn’t seem to check ANY bags. Sitting behind me was a charming woman that owned a bag whose handle wouldn’t retract. She would then yell at any of the extended family that touched her bag while trying to make the limited storage space work. To the right of me were three 40-something women with SNL-style Chicago accents. They seemed like they had been drinking…but hadn’t. They were just naturally ridiculous and LOUD. I closed my eyes and willed myself into a light sleep. All of this before take off. This usually works well for me. However on this excursion one of the “flight hands” had the hindquarters of a McDonalds worker and would bump every person with an aisle seat as she waddled by. Clearly the wrong profession.

“SHIT Ahhhh!” This was the sound that jarred my curiosity and brought me out of faux sleep. While it may seem fairly obvious to most vaguely intelligent people not to put your in-flight beverage on the aisle-side arm when the flight is staffed by exceedingly large people, it hadn’t occurred to the charming woman behind me. She was drinking her coffee and was “bumped.” She treated this like a winning lottery ticket. Who knows — maybe she was the actual person that sued McDonalds for millions over spilled coffee in the 80s and now lightning had struck twice! In any event her plan was clear. This put the flight staff into a state of frenzy looking for ice packs and ointment. More bumping…

I tried to return to unconsciousness but couldn’t shut out the Chicago accents. I wasn’t listening but they were loud and you could hear their thoughts form slowly — like turning on a cold fluorescent light. Towards the end of the flight one of them was going on about being demoted at work by the “Commish.” Her joke was that she was de-commissioned. “You know like the Arizona…” “That’s a destroyer or a gunship or battleship or something right?”

At this point a retired Navy veteran (probably in his 60s) turned around and was so mad he could only speak in sentence fragments. “You’re ‘mericans…you should be proud…so many lost lives…that’s their grave…the Japanese…Pearl Harbor…It’s a landmark for Christ’s sake” For a few seconds all was quiet. GREAT! Then the de-commissioned lady went into damage control. Also in fragments with giant spaces between thoughts. “I am proud…………..I went to, you know…………….New York…………………ground zero….after…………………..9/11…………really spiritual……….I guess……….it’s…appropriate to …Thank you for your service”

Soon enough the flight was over. We met Elliot in Reno. We had lunch at a great Greek place named Ova’s near the airport and waited for Scott to arrive.

A little while later we were driving through the rugged hills of the Tahoe National Forest on Rt. 80. Much better. It was a short ride to the Tahoe Biltmore. It’s an odd little casino that always reminds me of The Shining. This could be because the backstage area is the staff break/dinner area adjacent to the main kitchen. A lot like the scenes where Scatman Crothers talks to Danny Torrance about having “the gift.”

After setting up our gear we watched the Presidential debate attentively at the bar. Several minutes into it Seth Herman brought to my attention that the Casino had become very quiet. People briefly stopped what they were doing to hear the debate. This was an interesting time to be in a “purple state.”

Giant Panda Guerilla Dub Squad arrived during the debate. We greeted them and that broke the silence. This seemed to cue everyone back to gambling. I watched the rest from the break room and was pleasantly surprised to hear a group of dealers firmly in the Obama camp.

Finally it was time to play. When JBB is firing on all cylinders it’s a force to be reckoned with. We’d just come off a fairly long break where we all played some gigs we’d like to forget. So it felt great to wake the giant (so to speak). We brought in a new dub tonight tentatively called the Unity Dub. We’re playing more dubs these days to break up the set for Elliot who is still not 100% after last winter’s surgery. Later in the set Elliot made the case for Obama from the stage prior to playing the “W” inspired “What We Gonna Do.” He has done this before in safe markets like Burlington, VT to huge applause. It was a much bolder move in Nevada. Thankfully the same effect was achieved. I love seeing Elliot politically motivated. For years he didn’t see a point. I remember seeing Jerry Brown speak on the Boston Common back in the Tribulations days(1992) and being all fired up about the changes he was proposing. My enthusiasm fell on deaf ears among my musician friends and he was run off the national political scene for such missteps as dating Kim Basinger and associating with “Hollywood” types. His bold ideas were co-opted by both parties to win votes and never implemented. Anyway… good to see him in the game a bit.

9/25, Thursday, Boston

The last day of work after the ultimatum was issued: Your job or your music career. It was an easy day of work with a lunch at Uncle Pete’s. After work I drove home briefly. I then dropped off my keys and truck in Watertown. One bus and a cab ride later I was at Tommy B’s house watching the Red Sox with the volume down and a special DJ Tommy B soundtrack. PBR’s were the beverage of choice (at least until the Harpoon IPA arrived). After three years of juggling touring and a “day job,” a “new” full-time profession had begun.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 9th, 2008 at 1:12 am Both comments and pings are currently closed.