First actual tour update
I have not been online since we left Long Beach, and I will probably have to condense this a bit so as to not spend my whole night in a Tijuana internet cafe. Have to play a show, etc.
We had a chance to practice before we left LB, which was fortunate. We needed it. The last couple of times I played before leaving for tour, my left wrist was hurting. My wrists haven't bothered me in forever, so I was actually kind of concerned. It bothered me a little bit at practice here, but not as much as it had. And it's pretty much held steady in that condition. I've noticed it at every show, but it's not consistent or intense. Kids: learn good technique. Warm up before you play. Then when you experience pain, you'll be able to say, 'I hurt, and I have no idea why.'
First show was in LA (Boyle Heights) at the Boulevard Cafe. Unimpressive turnout and interminable, mediocre opening bands. We made over $100 in merch though, which is a really good night for us. We've got more stuff to sell this time than we usually do: three shirt designs, last copies of the LP, a few copies of the second ep, brand new third ep, patches, pins, Lotus Fucker demos, and a few copies of the Framtid 2007 Euro tour DVD that just came out. (We got a few because they included footage of all the bands they played with on that tour, and that means us. Haven't watched any of it yet.)
We spent the night at a house with a bunch of people near route 10, which we would need to jump on the next day to get to Tempe. At some point I was awoken by a coupling, the intended level of discretion or indiscretion of which was rendered moot by its extreme proximity to my head. Oh, tour.
When we left LA, the temperature was around 70, but the Phoenix area was more like mid 90s. We found a vegan comfort food restaurant and filled up before heading to the venue, which was an industrial park storage space cum practice space cum performance space. I had been trading messages with my old hometown friend Jason about meeting up in Phoenix, where he lives. It worked out, and he and his partner and I shot the breeze in the parking lot outside the venue for about a half hour. The last time I saw Jason was at his wedding in Pennsylvania maybe four years ago. He's divorced now. So it goes. It's funny: I generally think of Brighter Days as my first foray into enterpreneurship, but technically I made my first stab at selling my wares with Jason when we were 10 or 12. Those of you who lived through the 80s will surely remember friendship bracelets, those multicolored tied string thingies that were like a half inch to two inches wide that everybody wore. Jason was good at making them. I tried and kind of sucked at it, so I made a really dumbed down version of them that looked ok. We got the local five and dime to take some of our 'J and J String Bracelets' on consignment. I don't remember how many sold. It was Jason's idea, he was always an industrious sort. I distinctly remember learning what the word 'profit' meant from this experience. 'How much profit do you want to make?' he asked me. 'Oh, uh...' 'You know, how hard you wanna make it rain? We doin' this for our health or we doin' this for the motherfuckin' Benjies?' It was 1989 and I'm quoting Jason verbtim. 'Don't trip, son,' he definitely also said. Ok, maybe I'm paraphrasing.
The show was ok, nothing special. Crossing the border at Calexico into Mexicali the next day was a breeze. I'm running out of internet time and should get back to the venue, so I'll have to leave on that suspenseful note.
We had a chance to practice before we left LB, which was fortunate. We needed it. The last couple of times I played before leaving for tour, my left wrist was hurting. My wrists haven't bothered me in forever, so I was actually kind of concerned. It bothered me a little bit at practice here, but not as much as it had. And it's pretty much held steady in that condition. I've noticed it at every show, but it's not consistent or intense. Kids: learn good technique. Warm up before you play. Then when you experience pain, you'll be able to say, 'I hurt, and I have no idea why.'
First show was in LA (Boyle Heights) at the Boulevard Cafe. Unimpressive turnout and interminable, mediocre opening bands. We made over $100 in merch though, which is a really good night for us. We've got more stuff to sell this time than we usually do: three shirt designs, last copies of the LP, a few copies of the second ep, brand new third ep, patches, pins, Lotus Fucker demos, and a few copies of the Framtid 2007 Euro tour DVD that just came out. (We got a few because they included footage of all the bands they played with on that tour, and that means us. Haven't watched any of it yet.)
We spent the night at a house with a bunch of people near route 10, which we would need to jump on the next day to get to Tempe. At some point I was awoken by a coupling, the intended level of discretion or indiscretion of which was rendered moot by its extreme proximity to my head. Oh, tour.
When we left LA, the temperature was around 70, but the Phoenix area was more like mid 90s. We found a vegan comfort food restaurant and filled up before heading to the venue, which was an industrial park storage space cum practice space cum performance space. I had been trading messages with my old hometown friend Jason about meeting up in Phoenix, where he lives. It worked out, and he and his partner and I shot the breeze in the parking lot outside the venue for about a half hour. The last time I saw Jason was at his wedding in Pennsylvania maybe four years ago. He's divorced now. So it goes. It's funny: I generally think of Brighter Days as my first foray into enterpreneurship, but technically I made my first stab at selling my wares with Jason when we were 10 or 12. Those of you who lived through the 80s will surely remember friendship bracelets, those multicolored tied string thingies that were like a half inch to two inches wide that everybody wore. Jason was good at making them. I tried and kind of sucked at it, so I made a really dumbed down version of them that looked ok. We got the local five and dime to take some of our 'J and J String Bracelets' on consignment. I don't remember how many sold. It was Jason's idea, he was always an industrious sort. I distinctly remember learning what the word 'profit' meant from this experience. 'How much profit do you want to make?' he asked me. 'Oh, uh...' 'You know, how hard you wanna make it rain? We doin' this for our health or we doin' this for the motherfuckin' Benjies?' It was 1989 and I'm quoting Jason verbtim. 'Don't trip, son,' he definitely also said. Ok, maybe I'm paraphrasing.
The show was ok, nothing special. Crossing the border at Calexico into Mexicali the next day was a breeze. I'm running out of internet time and should get back to the venue, so I'll have to leave on that suspenseful note.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home