[ 03.30.03 | 05.43 pm ]
mood  |  indescribable  ]
talking to  |  bonnie  ]
music  |  nothing  ]

yesterday i got up and went to party city to buy children's size fishnet pantyhose to make armwarmers out of. i got those and rob got some orange and black striped stockings to make his out of. after feeling like a child molestor playing with a tiny pair of pantyhose i got my armwarmers finished and we started packing everything up to go to the show. we got out of the house about half an hour later than i wanted and still had to stop and get gas. with that out of the way we drove the 25 miles to the club the show was at. halfway there i realize i forgot the cord we borrowed from the club's manager, my camera, and my guitar picks. but we're already late so we can't go back. we get there and unload. they haven't found my laptop so i'm going to have to borrow the manager's brother's. i'm pissed but at this point i know i need to keep my composure. we start trying to hook everything up and find out we're going to need AV cables. the club is close to a little podunk town called vivian (that incidentally, my father grew up in) so we head into town to the radio shack. we find it closed at 4pm. fine, they have a wal-mart. and i thought shreveport's wal-mart was infested with inbred sons of bitches. it was a goddamn 'i sleep with my mama' convention. and i'm in the middle of it in a clergy collar and white contacts. and to top it off they don't have what we need. so we're stuck driving 25 miles back to shreveport to go to the fucking radio shack. somewhere in the middle of nowhere we run across a dollar general store across the street from a sheriff's station. we stop there, thinking they might have AV cables so bubba can hook up his newfangled DVD machine. we get out of the car and a black guy with a gold tooth in a babyshit-brown cadillac asks me if i 'wanna buy some bud' 'some what?' 'grass, man.. bud'. no i don't want your fucking pot. it's probably oregano if you're fucking stupid enough to sell it in a parking lot across the street from the sheriff's station. the dollar general doesn't have what we need either. on the outskirts of shreveport we find a radio shack and i get 2 AV cables, 2 AV-to-Phono adapters, and a surge protector. there's 40 bucks i might as well have just set on fire. why? the only thing we actually ended up using was the surge protector. because after we get back to the club and plug things into the PA with the AV cables we get no sound. at all. nothing. so i plug the laptop into rob's bass amp, run my guitar off my amp, and put the mic in the club's PA, since they had one phono jack on it. i have a spare guitar amp with us that i try to get rob to put his bass in and he refuses. he wants to use his bass amp, which, unfortunately, is the only thing we have with us that can handle the drum patterns and synths the laptop would be putting out.. even the club's PA was tinny. by now even the shreveport radio shack would be closed.. and we need a splitter. after driving back out to a nearby truck stop and looking through the CB radio stuff, we drove to a karaoke bar we remembered passing on the way to the club. we thought maybe we could borrow one from them. but we left when we saw a 400lb man with a budweiser in hand, a sign that said '21 means 21 - We ID' and a sign in the parking lot reading 'Parking for Rednecks Only' (swear to god, i couldn't make shit like this up). we're defeated.. we were headed back to pack our shit up and go home when rob remembered he had send and recieve ports on his amp for a foot pedal. it was worth a shot. and it worked. i estimate at this point we've driven at least 100 miles thus far. so now we've got everything hooked up, we're going to play off our amps.. plug the laptop into his bass amp's receive input.. and run the mic through the club's PA. after spending 20 minutes tweaking the mic for feedback we start running through some things and the nightmare continues. rob can't keep a beat for more than 2 bars and i couldn't sing on key to save my life. it sounds like fucking amatuer night. on top of usual pre-show jitters now i'm tired, and frusterated, and i just want to go home. a lesser man would've downed a cyanide capsule right about now. i go sprawl out on the couch, diet coke in one hand, marlboro red in the other, and think about telling the manager we're just not ready and we'll be back next week. my friend ashley nobis that came to see us does her best to cheer me up (while they play 'lemme ride that donkey.. lemme ride that donkey donkey..' every 10 minutes). during the show we'll be alternating sets with another band (called no education). they show up, and are real nice to us, and let us use their mic since we can't get the club's PA loud enough without it feeding back constantly. they do their first set and we go up to do ours. i got into our cover of nin's piggy and rob's doing a lot better, but i still can't sing. less than being nervous i was just exhaused.. physically and mentally.. which meant i couldn't put much feeling or energy in it.. and because of that i wasn't getting any energy from the crowd to feed off of. it flopped. i didn't get booed.. nobody threw anything.. they just sat there. and i hate that. i hate apathy more than anything. next up was a cover of eighteen by alice cooper. i drew energy now from not only being pissed at the circumstances.. but literally pissed at my audience. it went great.. my voice had power and sustain.. my lead guitar was scathing. i changed the lyrics to what i'd heard alice cooper do on the live CD that came with my special edition billion dollar babies.. 'i gotta get out of here.. mom and dad got me drinking whiskey..'. i finished and i got a round of applause. it was slow and then in built. they had paid attention, and they had liked it. what my mother said about me was right.. i had always been a showman.. and when i got up there and got a response that would come through. i don't remember much about the rest of the show. i know at one point i ran out of songs on my setlist and nobody in the crowd wanted us to get down yet. so we borrowed no education's drummer and jammed on some black sabbath and ac/dc. when no education went back up people were asking me if we were doing another set and when. we went up, and all i really remember about the second set was i did sympathy for the devil better than i've ever done it in my life. it was fun.  
 
after getting handshakes and congratulations and talking to the manager about finding the laptop for me we packed up our stuff and got out of there. tired, sore, and ears ringing. i wanted to die. i don't really know why, i just did. i felt like i was finished. i don't know why, i didn't feel like me. i felt like i was slipping. i've had some of that today. we're going back next week to play again. i feel so.. different now. i've been almost manic today.. when i started writing this i was incredibly depressed and i feel pretty good now.  
 
look ma, no hands.  
 
i'm a rock star.

disfigure