Hello, friends! Rob here.
As I write this, I am thinking about how many times I start a first draft of an update with “as I write this…” only to edit it out later. It’s probably about one in five. I am also thinking about how the phrases “one in five” and “one out of five” actually mean the same thing.
Anyway, what in the living heck happened this week? For a measly three-day run, there were a lot of high points and plenty of oddities.
We set out Wednesday evening so we could make it to our Thursday show in Columbia, MO, which is about a 12-hour drive from New Orleans. Wednesday was pretty boring and nothing really happened. We drove for a while and slept in a hotel. Thursday we woke up later than we should have, tried to keep our pit stops to a minimum, worried about the sounds the van was making, and argued over the radio.
Things were pretty normal until we arrived in Columbia to find it overrun by cicadas. It must have been mating season, because they were just flying and landing all over the place all willy-nilly. Not only did they give the town a great sense of foreboding, but, as an added bonus, we got to watch a few pedestrians (mostly female) freak the hell out when one landed on them.
Skip ahead to nighttime, when Tab Benoit is awesome. We played our short opening set to a surprisingly punctual and enthusiastic audience. We got to listen in on some of an interview between Tab and a local music scene coolguy from www.bluescentric.com in the green room. Mr. Benoit speaks casually in a deep voice with a grumbling drawl that belies his skill as a performer and songwriter and his acute understanding of the particular intricacies of Gulf Coast politics. Also, Ed got to sit in, which was awesome. There was going to be a photograph here, but none of the ones I took came out very well, so your imaginations will have to suffice, unless anyone is willing to submit an artistic interpretation of Ed sitting in with Tab Benoit. Anything submitted within the next few days or so will probably be posted on the internet, provided they aren’t graphic or inflammatory or mean, and also provided I don’t forget.
Thanks go to our new friends Frank and company for showing us a great time after the Columbia show. We met up with them at a nearby Mexican restaurant (where, by the time of our arrival, they had already convinced the bartender to put “Vital Signs” on the stereo) and shared many a warmest/cheapest, then adjourned to what was apparently the only hotel in Columbia (fortunately, it was quite nice) for a late-night sing-along that ended, as most late-night sing-alongs do, with a neighbor yelling at us.
Friday, it was a short hop over to Kansas City to open a free concert at the city’s revitalized Power & Lights District. There were a few technical humps onstage, like when Zack’s amp lost power during our last song and Andrew and I both definitely smelled something burning from underneath the stage, but it was fun, and we enjoyed the wonderfully nerded-out Steven Page headlining.
Afterwards, Darren, the man in charge of the event (at least as far as we were concerned), was kind enough to treat us to bottle service at PBR, a bar in the KC Live area the unabbreviated of which is not “Pabst Blue Ribbon,” as I had hoped, but “Professional Bull Riders.” Half dance club, half country-as-all-git-out, some of the northerners in the band would have felt a bit out of place if we weren’t all too busy destroying a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in a roped-off VIP section. This served as a good launch pad for our adventures in Kansas City with Georgefest coordinator Chris George (“Bubba” to his friends) and some other locals. We bounced around for a little bit. I split off from the group to check out the Wesport hipster district with my good friend and former sort-of-bandmate Corey and his girlfriend Sarah. I met up with the rest of the group after last call (whatever that is) outside of some brozone (rhymes with “ozone”) where there had apparently just been a pretty big fight. We returned to Bubba’s house where things probably got a little out of hand. I decided the house was enchanted when I walked into the kitchen and asked Bubba’s roommate, Panama (real name unknown) if they had anything really sketchy to drink, and then I noticed a jug of Carlo Rossi, a “wine” that no self-respecting individual should ever consume after their Sophomore year of college. Also we made ice cream cones.
The next morning, after a few hours of jockeying for turns in the shower, we ate awesome barbecue for breakfast and headed to the George estate for the seventh annual Georgefest. I wrote a more technical description of the event as I imagined it in last week’s entry, so I’m not going to bother doing it again today. Instead, I will furnish you with a quick bulleted list (because everyone loves bulleted lists) of things that I did not realize would be there:
-A man-made beach on a small man-made lake
-A floating deck on the aforementioned man-made lake, which tipped over at least five times when too many people climbed onto it in order to get to the keg that was on it
-Lots of drunk people
-An outdoor stage right on the beach
-An open bar that ran out of mixers about forty minutes after it opened, but had enough hard alcohol to last for about five or six hours
-An ice luge
-Lots of really drunk people
-A giant awesome fire
-A fun jam session after our show featuring local awesome hip-hop guy Dutch Newman and some other cool musicians who I can’t remember
-Lots of hopelessly drunk people
Keep in mind, when trying to picture the scene, that my parents drove four hours to be at this show and kept remarkable poker faces throughout. My mom was actually considering using the ice luge, just to see the looks on people’s faces.
So that was a thing. We all survived. I ditched the band on Sunday to spend an evening with my folks and fly home on Monday. Zack and Dave ditched the band in Shreveport on the drive back so they could do some recording with our friend Maggie Koerner, whose numerous merits I discussed at some length last week. Everyone else went home.
So there you have it, friends! Another installment of Blog Wednesday! Tense action! Wild adventure! Sizzling romance! Intriguing intrigue! Tell your friends!
Also tell your friends that we’ve got this month’s Pensacola Rockend (it’s like a weekend, but with rock) coming up! Friday and Saturday! Bamboo Willie’s! Etcetera! Our very own George Gekas’ girlfriend Bertha is celebrating a her birthday as well, so things are likely to get very interesting in terms of drinking a lot and then needing a glass of water and a nap. Wish us well! We wish you the same.
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Already wrote the below on facebook but seriously you guys were awesome. Look forward to chilling with you all down south sometime soon and hopefully having you back next year!
“Got free bottle service at a country western bar/club (thanks Darren Zarter), drank sketchy alcohol with guys named Bubba & Panama, had some Oklahoma Joe’s BBQ (best in the world), and rocked Georgefest VII til the wee hours of the morning…… I would say it was an unprecendented success! Seriously though, you guys were awesome. I anticipate a KC group trip to New Orleans or Florida to see you all play sometime soon!”
Thanks so much for coming to GeorgeFest – you guys were really great! And a very special thanks for letting my little one have her moment on the drums…she LOVED it! Andrew, it was great to get to meet and chat with you. Take care and best of luck with everything! – Megan (Bubba & Brianna’s big sister)