11/18/01: Somewhere, WI. At an abandoned truck stop. Last night’s show in Milwaukee was an interesting one. Played a club called the Cactus Club. We had to open, and the local band, who were all of about 15 years old, played 2nd. Then the Pavers. We played a bad-ass set, and I’m finally feeling better, but now the flu is starting to hit all of us, both bands.
Right after we played, the next band knocked Brent’s guitar over. The look on his face was terrifying. One of the kids goes, “Sorry,” and acts like it’s no big deal. When Eric plugged-in Brent’s guitar later that night, it didn’t work. The kids were gone, but that was probably for the best. We decided that we would have to hit a music store early in Green Bay so we could get it looked at.
Scott had to play sick. He pulled it off, though, and the Pavers put on a great show as usual. He taught Brent this new trick of sucking on lemons, so a common site is the two of them, walking around with a little baggie of lemons each, making these messed-up faces while they suck on these lemons. They swear it works, and I guess that’s all that matters, but it looks pretty damn funny.
So, after all the bands played, I was sitting there on the stage, talking to Michelle on the phone, waiting to load-out. Seth came up to me and said, “Don’t freak out, OK?”
“What? Why?”
“Just don’t freak out.”
“OK. What is it?”
“We locked the keys in the van.”
“Fuck . . . .”
I got off the phone and asked Mark Paver for a coat hanger out of their RV. Tony swore he could get the van open, so we took his word for it. Mark also let us use a flashlight. Tony got to work, and Brent held the flashlight. Things started to get ugly, and it was too much for me to watch, so I was out of there, trying to think of what we would do if we didn’t get the van open.
Finally, Tony came back in the club with a big grin on his face. The van was open. It was decided that I would hold on to the keys from now on.
Meanwhile, a certain band member (who again will not be named, but it was the “couch dancer” from the other night) was in the alley with this girl earning his new nickname: Alleycat. And it was COLD!
After the show last night, we thought we had a place to stay with these girls who said they had some big house or something. So, we all got ready to follow them in their little car. We kept following them in circles, until finally they pulled over and admitted that they didn’t know where the hell they were going. OK- Plan B. We head North towards Green Bay and find a truck stop.
We pulled into some Gas Station and asked the attendant where we should go to get back on the freeway North. Of course, he didn’t know. Asked him where we were and he didn’t know that, either. As I was beginning to lose my faith in the general population of Wisconsin, I wandered outside to see that they at least bothered to have street signs in this part of the country. Back inside to look at the map inside the gas station. Even though the streets weren’t on this particular map, we somehow figured out how to get out of there and it actually worked.
So, we’re heading north, looking for any kind of a Truck Stop, when all of a sudden, it gets VERY foggy. There’s almost no visibility and we have to slow down to about 1 mph. The Pavers are somewhere behind us, or at least there’s a set of headlights behind us every now and then that we THINK is them. No one else is on the road.
Apparently, Wisconsin have no truckers ever going through their fine state because we didn’t find ANY truck stops. Finally, after what seemed like hours, we just took an exit and found this abandoned gas station that looked like it may have once been a truck stop. We decided this was as good a place as any and pulled into their parking lot. There was no one around anywhere except for us.
So here we all were, sick, tired, and about to sleep in the freezing cold. So what did we do? We had tailgate party, of course! Isn’t that what you’d do? It was a good idea at the time.
Scott came out of the Pavers’ RV in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, beer in hand. When he realized how cold it was, someone handed him “The Coat.” The Coat became legendary on the tour. It was fur coat that Brent bought at an estate sale just before the tour and it became a symbol on the road that whoever was wearing the coat had gotten some the night before. Well, of course Scott hadn’t gotten any, but we let him wear the coat anyway. He proceeded to get out an acoustic guitar and play and sing in this coat and his shorts. Fucking hilarious! Everyone else is bundled up in hats, jackets, scarves, earmuffs, and whatever other bullshit, and he’s in a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a long, black fur coat. While Scott showed Tony and Brent some Pavers and ALL songs, Josh and I went scouting around this truck stop/gas station to see if there was anything to this place. We found a place to plug in the RV, but decided against it because there were a few semi cabs around, although they seemed to be abandoned, too. I kept thinking we’d turn the corner and run into Cujo, a redneck with a gun, or Ed Gein. Fucking Wisconsin, man.
Finally, the cold got to be too much and we all crashed out. Brent slept in the RV, I slept on the front bench of the van, Seth in the middle bench (snoring louder than a fucking Jumbo Jet), and Tony made himself a bed in the back of the van. By now, I’ve spent so many nights sleeping in close proximity to Seth that I’ve learned to wear earplugs. I missed Tony’s Oscar winning performance, “I see dead people,” because I had the plugs in.
Woke up this morning to find a TON of people in this gas station, all of them talking about the big football game. Everyone was either on their way to see it or buying supplies to watch it at home. I walked in their looking like a Lumberjack/Serial Killer (something they should be used to in Wisconsin) and got some of the craziest looks as I bought orange juice and donuts. Now we’re getting ready to leave and find a music store in Green Bay. Maybe we can find a shower somewhere, too.
More to come . . . |
