…Half the day is missing and I don’t miss it one bit. I’m under the pressure of a hundred or more faces waiting for me two holler my sorrows at them in great length. It’s mostly paranoia mixed with a tooth ache that could make a sasquatch cry, but They don’t notice the pain I’m in or the fear I’ve forced into my psyche all morning…and that works for me. The stage is covered in stomped on marsh mellows and the remains of a few hundred balloons that the half assed magic act before me left behind to keep me company while I pace the around and bitch in a four-four time signature. The sound is sub-par which in my book is a breath of fresh air. If you haven’t played a show before you might not understand, but I’m sure you’ve been to a million shows and have heard the guy or girl on stage asking the sound guy for more of something in the monitors. The monitors are you best friend on stage, they allow you to hear the music and your voice and there is a fine line between to much of the music and to much of yourself…this sound guy had his shit together…enough. I’m running through the set with out a hitch and the rain (outdoor show) that has been the life of the party all morning and afternoon didn’t take it’s frustrations out me…just a light mist that was probably good for me anyways since I haven’t showered in three days. I smell like a tall biker with over active sweat glands…standing next to me was like French inhaling a Cuban cigar. So I’m nearing my last song of the night and the crowd was smiling big smiles. I love to make people happy…it can take a lot out of you, but it always gives back an even reward in the end and the end was near. A round of applause and a round up of the days previous acts are giving their respect, shake a few hands, thank a few bands and I’m ready to go. I’ve been looking forward to the bbq that my great friends FOOD HEAD a.k.a. Andrew Troldahl and J.P. the master chef we’re whooping up all day…I dismissed a dillenger 4 show just to taste the finished product. I get there just in time to taste the last of FOODS famous halibut dish…he didn’t miss a beat…it was out-fucking-standing! When FOOD cooks…no remains. The night is moving quickly and the liquor soaked cup cakes are barking up the right tree. There are about 12 of us (friends) dancing around a bon fire like a bunch savages, taking photos and sweeping sips off a bottle of something that burns when it touches your lips…and then again in your tummy. We did a photo shoot in front of the fire with our pants round are ankles and our wits are in no way about us. Paper tiger was snapping away at his digital camera and struck photo gold when he took a flick of me and some friends in front of the fire and some flame ball showed up in my hand like someone had photo shopped it in there…I looked like a fucking sorcerer! It’s the little things. Something is telling me that it’s time to leave before shit gets unmentionable. I call for my cab and make the round of goodbyes that are usually caked with sarcasm. I finally make it home to my room that consists of a twin mattress, a 10-inch TV. And a jar of warm pickles…luxury class baby. I put in a DVD (la vi en rose) and slowly shut my head off. Half way through the film and I’m out. I wake up the next morning with a few minutes to spare before I had to start my shift at Muddy’s (coffee shop). I get a text on my phone from a friend that said, “Do you remember what happened last night?” I replied, “I was only there for an hour, but you guy’s were on one for sure”…I get no reply back. I get to the coffee shop and my friend and owner of the fine establishment started asking if I was o.k. I said, “Yeah, I feel like a million bucks…minus a few bad investments”. She begins to get very concerned about the state of my friends foot and the state of two my best friends relationship with one another. Turns out some shit did go down after I left. One is unmentionable and the other is outstanding. My friend nick that was three enormous sheets to the wind thought it would be funny to slam a full on ten-pound sledgehammer directly on to my even drunk friend Posso’s foot…he didn’t break his foot, but he did crack a few people up. Looking back on it, it’s seems kind of stupid, and it is, don’t get me wrong…I guess the only way I could explain the type of mayhem I and most my friends get into is “a mutual lack of shame mixed with booze and a small town out look on what “fun” is equals the kind of stupidity that we fall for just about every time”
So my day of work has ended and I didn’t feel like writing for my new album just yet. I decide to write my first blog ever…I call it my yesterday’s.