Whee-Lee-Doo

Tomorrow night is this show that has been in the works for about eight months. Not that I have been working towards this particular evening but the band has been all up in the air with new folks joining and so forth since April and this is the first gig with all the new pieces in place. The pieces are named Philito and Benjamin, they’re good pieces.

I had almost forgotten what a maniacal dope I get to be as these things approach. Last night (for real) I had a dream that we played one song and then I saw people walking down the steps of the Velvet Lounge (where the gig is). In a panic I look to my left and see Philito stretched out on a cot sleeping, on my right Wesley was in a La-Z-Boy sleeping and behind me Benjamin was flat on his back…also asleep. So I kicked Philito as hard as I could in the ribs and he said, “Leave me alone I’m bored”. The dream then segued into a sequence where there was some sort of poison gas being let loose in the bar and the bars grew to be nine feet tall and thus I was unable to drink at them. The dream ended with me walking around the empty upstairs at the Velvet Lounge with a Rolling Rock and a gas-mask. No shit. How dopey is that? Did I mention that I also puke before almost every show? Like, five minutes before we start playing? It’s a charming habit.

I do love the live show though and more often than not it turns out to be really fun, we play and rock away the night and then I get terribly wasted and Wesley drives me home. On a couple of occasions upon returning to the estate I have logged on to the old ‘puter and posted on message boards, always with abysmal results. Once I posted something on a message board frequented by cover bands that if you play in one you are a disastrous pussy without an ounce of worth and should be destroyed. I also mentioned something to the effect that I was a god among men or some such shit.

For some reason they revoked my posting privileges……puny humans.

As it is I’m really geared up for this show tomorrow and will tell tales from it good and bad after it goes down. Hopefully I won’t puke but if I have to let it be from my friend Ira making me drinks god-awful shots of tequila and not from a nervous stomach.

Thanks to all the new folks reading this blog and to the ones who have been down this road before.

Cheers!