Four Beers and a Coke- CN's Tour Journal Part 1

Pomona, CA 1/28/05-
Pomona kinda sucks. It's far and there's not much around here aside from a rock n' roll teeshirt place, a taco house, the Glasshouse and the club we're playing at, 51 Buckingham. Come to think of it, that sums up where we play no matter where we are. Does it suck where you are? Drop us a line, we'll play there.
Joe the sound guy here is actually pretty cool, a refreshing change from all the other jackass club owner/board operator guys we deal with constantly. We played well and the turnout was good, rather it was good to play in front of more than the usual 12 people... too bad they were here to see the other bands and couldn't give two shits if we were on fire. I don't know if it was worth the 50-mile drive from my day job, but it was fun nonetheless, even if we have to put up with the typical California bullshit--arms folded, no clapping, only here to see the band I know. Left my open mind at the door, thanks. Hurry up and finish. I know the guy in the next band and he's cool. You are not.
Shirt count @ 11:30- 10. Not bad. We made 20. I mean, we sold most of them to the FG "family", but 5 bucks is 5 bucks. The donuts Ringo's girl, Andra, bought were pretty good and brought a smile to many a drunk and/or fat person's face.
At any rate, we were happy to be here--Cry Havoc was headlining this show as their record release party and they had at least 100 peeps rocking the joint. They are incredible. It makes me sad and happy at the same time. I wish I could of kept the record label rolling to see their album all the way through... it hurts to think I left them kinda hanging, but I'm reassured by everyone in the band that I did a good thing by helping them as much as I could--except Matt. He always gives me that dig about "dropping them" from the label... I guess it's funny to him, but it sucks to hear and makes me feel like such a failure.
I leave the club at around 12:30 or so, after taking a pee, buying the Cry Havoc cd for Ringo, and milling around with no purpose. The funniest and scariest part of the night came when I went to go take a leak and overhear two dudes in the next stall over up to something. It's late and Pomona isn't the nicest of cities, so I pretend to be drunk and not hear anything. Unfortunately, I finish peeing about the same time the two cholo-looking dudes bound out of the stall. No eye contact, I leave. I don't know what they did, but I know they are looking for some shit to start. 15 minutes later, I happen to have another bout of impeccable timing and luck.. I've said my last goodbye and start making it up the street to the car. I notice two very wide latina ladies in front of me that were in the club and just ahead of them, their boyfriends are guess who. At this point I am walking in the street just to get away from them.. eyes forward. No luck there this time. Cholo #1 cuts in front of the ladies and attempts to cut me off from my car. He stares me down and says: "Hey holmes, where did you park?" I thought they only asked where I was from. I must of run into valet-parking gangstas. Good night, Pomona. I'm going home.
Santa Monica, CA 1/29/05-
Now we're talking--The Northeast Records Night show was pretty cool, I have to say. It was definitely in a more familiar place (for me at least) and the crowd was more interested in what we had going on compared to last night. I have to say opening for two rock bands then a punk band is much harder than opening for the Psychotics. Red Letter M did kick some ass yesterday, for sure. Maybe we'll tour with them and Cry Havoc in the spring.. it was the topic of discussion last night.
Either way, this night was going to be a lot more relaxed. We opened up with a Drawback cover, just to impress the label folk, haha. Drawback rocked the mid-90's, I don't think Garry from Northeast will ever know what kind of impact that tape made on me. Or maybe he will now. Anyway, we gave out gifts from the 99-cent store. I threw them at the crowd with deadly precision, knocking over beer cans and hitting people in the face.. but hey, it's a free fucking gift--heads up! Ringo bought some great shit for that show--a 6 pack of sponges, eyeliner, an awesome dart gun, condoms, some kind of suction cup hackey sack that would glow red.. good times. We had fun and played ok.. my voice was a little scratchy from the night before, but it didn't stop me from belting out the hardcore shit. Duane and I went to buy donuts before the show up the street at Yum Yum. The homeless guy with the swollen, diseased ankles and legs almost made me want to lose my cookies, but we pressed on and bought a darn good selection of donuts, I have to say. Shirt count @ 10:30-2. We sold 4 to Garry, gave him one free. I asked Duane after we played to give out the demos, thinking that we might get rid of 4 or 5. I told him not to take it personal when someone didn't want one. He came back 5 minutes later empty handed. Rad. People actually kinda liked us, maybe.
The Psychotics rocked the fucking house. They were great, they have a good look and a lot of drive to be doing this full time. I talked to Steve after the show about doing a tour... he was as stoked on the idea as I was.. hopefully in March we'll be doing a weekend with them up the coast. I have mixed emotions playing north of here in places like Santa Barbara and Santa Cruz, but I'll be a big boy about it and rock the house for the fun of it. I'll leave my emo shit at home with my backpack, cardigan, black horn-rimmed glasses and copy of Dashboard Confessional.
My throat is an absolute sand trap. I can barely talk. I am wrecked and tired and I should be going to a party after this my friend Breea is throwing, but she'll have to forgive me for being old, sweaty and tired.
Glendale, CA-1/30/05-
How the fuck did I know this show was going to blow a hairy ass? Oh yeah, it's the fucking Scene Bar in crazy Glendale, California- the city that ALWAYS sleeps. We took this show as a favor to Chris (formerly of the Nicoteens) because we are hungry to play and accumulate favors for better shows. Not only that, Chris is the coolest guy and knows something about every fucking punk band ever created. He starts talking about stuff and it makes my head spin.
Getting back to the suckfest, we played in front of 6 people we didn't know, and about 7 people we did know. Fuck it. We end up playing all the covers we know and I throw in about 4 of our songs when I see my pal Jerry in the crowd. Our last song is the Bouncing Souls version of 'Born to Lose'.. I notice some commotion backstage behind the curtain so I decide to check it out midsong and almost lose my concentration--a guy putting makeup on in the corner, fake rubber severed limbs lining the floor, and two girls... standing there in bikini tops, g-strings and velour robes--what the fuck? I say hello to everyone backstage on the mic with no responses of course then decide to end this miserable night screaming and writhing on the floor. Fuck it. My voice pretty much gave out during the NOFX cover of Linoleum we did, so why not make it so I can't talk at all on Monday? We had no donuts, no demos and no shirts. We were there for the pure sport of it. We start tearing down and this guy with a ponytail and glasses starts getting dangerously close to me while I'm trying to help Jorge and Duane with their shit. Eventually he nudges me enough for me to want to rearrange his fucking face with my microphone, inch by inch. "Hey, thanks for waiting until we were completely off stage before you set up your stuff.” I say to him sarcastically. "Thanks. You guys were great.,” he says to me, completely missing the boat that I want to kill him. I don't know what's more insulting, the fact that he's too stupid to understand sarcasm or the fact that he just gave me the bullshit musician blow off "you guys were great" line. Fuck.
I was tired and ready to go home, or at least celebrate a good weekend of shows with the guys... then the inevitable happened. The guys take enough good looks at the burlesque girls and blood starts rushing to the pants--suddenly the Scene is the place to be. I have to admit I stuck around to see this car accident of a performance called Heavy Metal Happy Hour.. God forgive me for linking that bullshit. I have to give him credit, I don't think anyone would want to hear piano versions Van Halen, Guns N' Roses and Black Sabbath played solo by some guy in makeup that reminds me of The Crow. The girls were nice to look at and had all the right moves. In 30 years of living, I have never once set foot in a strip club. Last night was my first real taste of that lifestyle, I think. I found it depressing and desperate. I found myself looking at those girls like they were rib eye steaks, and I felt bad. So I left. A strange end to an odd weekend. It didn't dampen my mood. I have a great time with these guys, better than any time I ever had in any other band. It was a tough weekend, I'm tired and sore, but I wouldn't trade it for anything... even a lap dance from the girl in Heavy Metal Happy Hour.. the one on the right. Yeah.

CN