It’s all about the law of diminishing returns. Our returns for what we do diminish. I think. Actually, I’m not sure what the law of diminishing returns refers to, but it makes it sound like I could have made it on Wall St. instead of been in a band. I could have, but I don’t have to prove it to you. I know.
I can’t remember what I wrote last in Denver. We had some nice folks from Cheyenne buy us WAY too many shots. I do recall putting down my computer after typing some stuff and then heading upstairs to the mezzanine to kick some people’s ass. Whiskey makes you think you can do stuff like that even when you’re as scrawny as me. I guess my overconfidence worked, because these schlubs who’d accidentally spilled some beer on me seemed very intimidated. Go me.
I guess the rest of the night was me yelling at things, by all accounts. Sean kicked what he thought was an empty box and it turned out to hold Napalm Death’s merchandise. He put a nice hole in it, right in front of Napalm’s point man. Talk about getting off on the wrong foot.
We had to get a hotel as the places where people said we could stay disappeared with them. I guess people aren’t so into the whole Greek notion of showing strangers hospitality like they used to be. They’re also not into the Greek notion of sex with little boys, but that’s probably a good thing.
The next day we drove for a long, long, long time to Ogden, Utah. This show had been moved several times, and to the day it still said we would go on at 8. So, that’s when the few folks who wanted to see us showed up. Too bad we’d been made to go on at 6:45. That was fifteen minutes later than it was supposed to be because we had to wait for the myriad of lights and backline to get organized before we could throw up our own tattered cabinets and duct taped amps. Then we got a big ol’ 15 minutes to play. Three songs. We drove how many hours for this? This wasn’t because the show was running late, either… that was how it was planned. Well, we sucked it up and put on the best 15 minutes show we could for the two people in attendance. OGDEN ROCKS!
The show was pretty much a failure. We were paid less than half of our pittance of a guarantee. I guess I shouldn’t call that. We were paid less than half of our “hopefor.” There were some karate kids for the hardcore meat between the death metal bread, but not many. A lot of them left when Napalm went on. It was pretty rough, but kudos to Napalm for putting on their full show and rocking out as if they were playing for 300 kids instead of 30.
We stayed with a fella named Caveman, but I think they should call him Basementman as we stayed in his basement in Salt Lake City. Our myspace friend Connor hooked it up. Still, I was a bit disappointed we didn’t stay in a cave. We could’ve ended the night with some sweet cave painting.
Onto Boise. So far, the highlight of our day is eating cheese curds at A&W.; And they wonder why the midwest is fat. Fried cheese is heavily advertised. I keep reminding myself I don’t have to worry about the truckers at the stops giving me dirty looks because all I have to do is make my escape through a narrow space. Go me.