From Chad McDonald:
Day 8. Our second day off on this tour.
Yesterday was Cinco De Mayo so we got our celebraish’ on. We ate lunch at a Mexican Restaurant in Athens, Georgia called Taqueria El Sol De - I would recommend it, good green sauce. The restaurant’s building was connected to a gas station and had previously been a waffle house. A fine lineage for a mexican restaurant. Had a few $3 dollar margaritas to start the Cinco celebraish’ off right. After lunch we went to a Goodwill and bought some sombreros and breezy Hawaiian shirts. Showed up to the venue over dressed for the occasion. Feeling inspired by Dad Boner (@DadBoner on twitter) Zac and Mike went on the search for some Bud Light Margs to keep the celebration rolling all day long. DadBoner’s twitter feed may be the most ingenious viral marketing campaign ever devised. Just a theory. Luckily a guy at the venue knew a liquor store that carried them - so that was the drink of choice for the rest of the night. While it’s not the best Margarita I’ve ever had, it’s in a can so it gets some points for convenience. Some guy waiting in line lamely bantered in spanish with me for a bit - aside from that interaction, the Cinco celebraish was contained within our band for the most part.
It’s strange how insular your reality becomes while you’re on tour. You lose touch with the events happening outside of your band. You live in a tour bubble. That’s why getting drunk in the afternoon and dressing up like assholes on Cinco De Mayo becomes acceptable behavior. When you’re together with a group of people for months at a time you develop a special kinship. Ours seems to revolve around trying to get each other to laugh at farts and childish humor. I guess that can become a slippery slope. When will we reach the point where farts are no longer funny? What will come after? Who will be the first to poop their pants for a laugh? You don’t want to become so self-involved to the point where you lose objectivity. That’s how you become an asshole and end up making bad records. Maybe that’s what happens to bands that completely morph into shit over the course of their career? I don’t know, just spit balling here.
That poop comment reminds me of a side story. There’s a really gross act called a beefstew which involves putting your butt on an unsuspecting person’s head and farting - extra points if you pull your pants down before releasing the stew. There was a band, who I will not name, that was just about to pull up to the venue where they would be performing later that night. Beefstewing was a common occurrence in this band’s van. One of the guys felt a rumble in his gut. He pulled his pants down in preparation for a bare assed beefstew. He climbed on to the middle bench, putting his butt head level with the passenger in the front seat. Just as he farted the driver tapped the brakes causing the beefstewer to lose control of his bowels and crap all over the guy in the passenger’s seat.
Day 15. Raleigh, NC.
Happy Mothers Day. Today is my sister’s birthday and also her first mother’s day as a Mom. Yesterday was my girlfriend’s birthday. I have a lot of celebrations to make up for when I get home. Since my last entry nothing too crazy has happened. The past few days have consisted of long nights and early mornings so the whole band is tired. I’ll just give a run down of the past few days.
We played 2 shows in rooms where the entire audience was seated. That was a little odd. I can’t say I blame them though. If given the chance to sit or stand, who’s going to stand?
We played in an airplane hanger.
We played a prank on Kevin from Topshelf Records texting from a cute girls phone to persuade him to send pictures of his fuzzy chicken skin. He didn’t fall for it.
The front of house provided sound guy for one of the shows seemed drunk and unable to form words. He grunted us through sound check.
We got offered moonshine on two separate occasions in the south.
Outside of a Motel 6 in Georgia where a guy gave us a mason jar of apple cider moonshine and asked us if we had seen “some shit” he had dropped - which is apparently southern slang for a bag of crack.
David was told by some guy that we reminded him of the nu-metal band Chevelle.
A guy approached Mike while he was selling merch and told him how much he loved our band and how good we sounded tonight etc. Then he said, “but man, that first band whooooo…man they were fucking terrible. They were just plain bad.” It became apparent that he thought Mike was in Moving Mountains. Mike responded with, “well thanks man, I was in the first band.”
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