On The Road With The Band

 Whew!

I just got back from twisting off and going MIA.

Ben’s parents took the boys for a week while his band played a bluegrass festival and three fairs. It was fun to be on the road, touring. Touring? Touring! I think that’s the right word. Somehow when I think of touring…I don’t think of driving our old Tahoe and pulling a trailer held together by bondo and bailing wire. (You think I’m kidding. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture. I was too busy standing there gawking with my mouth wide open to take one I guess.) Anyway, when I think of touring, I think of a Silver Eagle touring bus or buses, semis, and a whole herd of folks to set up and tear down for you. I don’t think of a Tahoe tethered to bondo-mobile. But, you have to start somewhere, the bottom is as good a place as any, I suppose.

And Don, remember Don? He is the one with the depot and longhorns. Anyway, Don rewired the trailer and painted it up real nice with a custom color. “It almost matches your Tahoe…” is how he put it as we put the last piece of sound equipment in and closed the door (that was still wet.) Almost. Would someone please tell him, close only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes. Thank you.

Life on the road sounds like a blast until it comes right down to it. Eighty or ninety percent of the time we were setting up, tearing down, eating or driving. We didn’t sleep much on this trip. Like I was telling the reporters… 

“Yes, I’m the booking agent… I do some promoting too… *sphnicker sphnicker* Sound? That would be me. I’m the sound guy…Security. Hello, me again. (More about that later…) Ben even lets me carry his banjo once in a while too…”

They always write it up real nice in the paper, making us sound almost famous…like we are somebody. Bless their hearts.

So anyway we wound around and finally ended up in a small town in Missouri. They wanted acoustic bluegrass in the park Saturday afternoon and wanted us to plug in and play old country and rock and roll for the street dance after the rodeo. No problem.

Now people let’s get something straight. My life has been interesting in the most backwards, silly hillbilly way, but I’ve ain’t never seen anything like this before. I’ve been to D C and had to seek cover because of a drive-by-shooting on the backside of the block. I’ve rode horses into bars and dismounted on pool tables. I’ve canoed the boundary waters of the US and Canada and cliff jumped off a 40 foot cliff half in Canada half in the US… I’ve even been held at gun point while collecting information for tax purposes, but the events of Saturday night left me speechless. Now that’s a first.

After explaining all this to Ben’s sister, Aunt Sissy, she giggled and said, “It was like going from Mayberry with a parade and candy for the kids,

three legged dogs running around stealing hamburgers and Grandma in the parade as the Grand Marshall to Roadhouse in one fell swoop.

Friends, it was exactly like that. I’m telling you SINthia, has nothing on these people….

I can’t start to tell you everything that happened but my three favorites were…

The little gal that felt it her patriotic duty to inform me if the band didn’t start playing again, “THEY” are going to riot.

Of course, being the kung-fu flighter I am…I said, “REEEEEALLY? Wow. Thanks for telling me that. I’ll let the band know they need to get started right away. I’d hate to see a riot.”

She was satisfied with that, slurred “Yeeeer welcommme,” and she was on her way.

They started back up 15 minutes later, just like they said they would and I didn’t have to open a can of whup-ass. Glory be.

Another chick decided our 65 year old lead singer needed some beads. The Marty Gras, type.  After dancing for him she, uh, presented him with the beads. Bless her for not showing anything, AND not having said singer show anything either. It kept the nice festive atmosphere that way I reckon.

The most amazing thing of the night was the law enforcement that was there. I think we started out with three deputies and ended up with what looked like six deputies, three reserve officers, and two State Troopers all with  grass stains and scuff marks on their uniforms from having to ride people to the ground. It wasn’t a full moon, but the natives were darn sure restless. After making the 60 mile round trip to the jail five times they gave up and brought over the paddy wagon and hauled another eight people in for those some of those special 8 by 10 color glossy photos complete with reservations on the group W bench, compliments of officer Oby. (You’ve heard the song, right?)

 Anyway. The drummer and I decided we had the best sit in town, but derned if it ain’t hard to work while chaos ensues around you. Bless the law enforcement guys that were picking up some overtime. I’m pretty sure, even with the overtime, they didn’t get paid quite enough.

We finally shut it down about 1:30 am packed up the bondo buggy and headed back to base camp with the lights only working on the buggy when we had the turn signal or the brake on. Funny, I don’t think Barney or the Sheriff cared by that point. I guess they were waiting for Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliot to run in and save the day. We arrived at MiMi’s around 3:30 in the morning and dined on PBJs, ham, cheese, cheetos and fruit in lieu of stopping at Alice’s Restaurant.

See why I’ve been MIA? You don’t recover from something like this over night. In fact I’m not sure I’m right yet. The boys and I have spent most of the evening watching YouTube videos of Larry the Cable Guy’s farting grandma, dancing to Elvis singing ”Hound Dog”, and bellering out ”OOOOmp Papa Mow Mow” with the Statler Brothers.

To say touring with the band has affected me, some, would be an understatement. Next year I’m bringing chicken wire and duct tape.

Dang it’s nice to be home.

Simply,

Sis

Tags: Alice's Restaurant, Bluegrass Music, drunken brawl, gigs, group W bench, life of the road, mayberry, on the road with the band, Patrick Swayze, roadhouse, Sam Elliot, sliver eagle, touring band