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I guess an explanation is in order. I contribute to a music column in a magazine called American Bear. For those of you not familiar, this magazine's readership focus is towards gay men with more traditionally masculine sensibilities. Some may call it porno, others may call it light reading. I'm still trying to figure out where the music part fits in to all of it. However, since I am a part of this segment of the gay community and somewhat knowledgeable (I guess) about music, I got drafted two years ago by a couple of friends of mine to do this music column every couple of months.
I am also a member of the SF band, A Great Laugh, as you all are quite well aware of. Just prior to the departure of a tour by the band, my column cohort, Mr. J.S. Adams, suggested that maybe I should do a tour diary for the next issues column. I hesitated at first, then decided OK, but I'm gonna need all the space in the column for that month. Little did I know that this project could possibly be a magazine all on its own. This is the first time that I've ever kept a diary, and it's been quite an interesting experience/project. I think it's taken me twice as long as the tour just to complete the diary to this form.
After composing the first couple of entries, it became extremely apparent that the complete diary would be way too big to fit in American Bear. I decided then to use the diary as sort of a letter to friends, kinda like what I did on my summer vacation or those goofy letters you get at Christmas time. I also figured this project would document this time in my life and help to put those memories behind me. Once you reach the end of the diary, you'll understand why.
I hope y'all don't find this too boring. Just to let you know, the more exciting stuff starts happening once we get to Atlanta. Prior to that, I mostly talk about either trying to get laid, or getting laid. So if you want to skip ahead, be my guest. The fact that anyone is reading this at all is ridiculous enough.
Cast of Characters: A Great Laugh
Victor Krummenacher - Vocals, Guitar, Songwriter, Captain of the ship
John Nelson - Drums, Cowboy
Greg Lisher - Lead Guitar, Snoring
Jason Fessel - Lead Guitar, Continuous questions
Chris Xefos - Bass, Vocals, Your narrator
Plus many special guests along the way!
Background info: A Great Laugh has been invited to open for Poi Dog Pondering on their spring 96 tour of the Eastern Portion of the U.S. Prior to leaving, AGL is not certain of their last scheduled show, but then come to realize that's not the only thing that's up in the air.
The Elvis Presley gun & jewelry collection is the highlight at Sierra Sid's Truckstop just east of Reno. We just left SF this morning around 10am to an almost teary goodbye from Victor's roommates, John's wife Elinor, and our friend Denise. It was one of the most emotional bon voyages for a tour I've ever experienced. It was the climax of an incredibly busy/creative 4 weeks prior to the commencement of the tour; 6 groups or artists performing/producing/mixing 24 songs, gigs, rehearsals and my day job, which exploded to bits yesterday. Long story short, my supervisor came to me yesterday and told me I couldn't take the time off for the tour. I was somewhat under the impression all along that I would be getting the time off, so I told him 'you're asking me to make a decision now?' I almost laughed at him and was out the door, practically escorted out of the building, 3 hours later. Yesterday morning, my life was of a certain structure that I had been building since the demise of KM (King Missile). Now today, what's been has been either completed or completely destroyed and all I've got in front of me is the road.
When the idea came across of doing a tour diary, some of the more recent ones I've seen made me feel like it was an exercise in large egoness. However, after thinking a little more I realized that there will probably be a couple of interesting stories, and certainly a different perspective, that maybe some guys might be interested in hearing.
Back here at Sierra Sid's, while tooling around the convenience store watching the beautiful, bearded, bellied truck drivers going in and out of the casino while the Emmylou Harris is coming out of the muzak speakers, the whole touring vibe started coming back to me. I'm having a hard time, but having a great time. I hope it's not too long before I get laid. These truck drivers are making me crazy, but then again they always have and always will. I guess it just gets my testosterone going, so if I don't release it with someone, I can at least release it on stage. Touring can be so inspirational!
Happy St. Patrick's Day! I've always wondered what this place was like, especially since it is the name of an R.E.M. song (and an early tour of theirs also). Basically, Little America is this motel complex/ truckstop made to look like a little community, complete with it own post office and zip code, in the middle of NOWHERE! I mean the high plains are beautiful to look at, but there's nothing to do out here, which is actually the point.
How did we get here? Typical tour bullshit, which I'm getting reacquainted with; We were going to stop for the night 250 miles west of here in Wendover, NV, but of course, Saturday night, Mike Tyson fight,...no rooms available. We decided to drive on to Salt Lake City, two hours east. We arrive at 1am to find that there's about 50 conventions happening plus weekend skiers all in town. No rooms until next week! We end up at a truck stop to consider our next move and crash for a little while. Victor goes in, drinks coffee and writes postcards, everyone else crashes out in the van. After a couple of pinball games I thought 'Why don't I try cruising the truck parking lot'. Now I know there's a certain technique and certain codes used in truck stop cruising, but I guess the best way to learn is by doing. With all the touring I've done, I've never had an opportunity like this. By 3am, I figured most truckers were asleep in their rigs, but what the hell. I walked around the lot a couple of times, and nothing. Oh well, maybe I'll have better luck next time. Victor and I end up falling asleep in the truckers lounge while watching this incredibly surreal mid 80's John Travolta vehicle.
We decided to wait 'til sunrise, and then I'd get behind the wheel and take us to Little America, about two more hours east. Victor and Greg had stayed here a few times during CVB (Camper Van Beethoven) days, and they have some stories associated with here, so I guess familiarity breeds comfort. We arrived at 9:30am MST (24 hours out from SF w/o any real sleep stop) and are kicking back 'til Monday morning. While I was driving this morning, I said to Victor, 'once we get on stage, this will all make sense'. He smiled and laughed. I hope he was agreeing and not thinking I'm an idiot for saying that.
As always, beautiful truckers coming in and out of the restaurant here while I write this. And there's this one in the next row of tables eating alone and wearing a cap with a bear on it. Maybe??? I'm doing my best to find out. If this doesn't work, there's always the truck parking lot out back. I think a little walk later may be in order.
Editing note: Victor told me that the trucker with the 'bear' cap cruised him heavy, but then I figured it was because Victor was wearing his Lone Star cap(that I gave him btw). DAMN!
This is the third time I've ever woke up in this same fleabag (small/non chain/mom & pop owned) motel here. The first was when I drove across the US (SF-NY) alone in 3 1/2 days after moving to SF, 12/91. The second was a sleep night during a KM tour, 6/93 and now today. It's that familiarity thing again. I think we even got a break on the rooms cause Victor said I had been here before.
Yesterday was a pretty uneventful drive to here, except of course for the white-out driving (explanation; sudden and short snow squalls that at their height reduce visibility to zero, and all you can see is white through the windshield) we experienced twice during the trip. I think back to a week or two ago and the safety of my day job and the life that I had going on. Now, I've thrown that all away and am even risking my physical well-being just so I can play music for people who don't know me or this music and make almost no money doing it. I must be crazy, but I feel I have no choice.
For a first gig, last night was pretty good. We had to play two sets, but that gave us a chance to work out and play almost all of our songs. We had some technical problems and musical problems, so this was kind of like a dress rehearsal, but the 35-40 people that were there on this cold Tuesday night during spring break didn't seem to mind. In fact, there were a couple of CVB fans there getting their CDs autographed by Victor and Greg.
There were also plenty of corn-fed mid-western boys around including this one that, in between the two sets, came right up and started talking to me and Victor. I had been checking him out all night and I guess he sensed I wanted to talk to him. We introduced ourselves and I shook his hand (big and firm, just how I like 'em). We bs'd for a little while and he bought a CD. His friend came over and we all talked for a while. His cute big boyishness made me a little tongue tied. Some day I'll figure out the deal with these boys. I can never tell if they're honestly being friendly, or that maybe they are seeing some opportunity in me, since I don't make too many bones about it, or...oh, I don't know, maybe I'm just a little horny (A LITTLE?!?). Anyway, our conversation died and they went back to their table. Oh well, maybe next time.
Last night's show here was somewhat interesting. The venue was the student union pub of Iowa State University. There were probably about 50 kids there just sitting the whole time, while we worked our butts off. Then afterwards, many of these kids came up to us and said what a great show it was, even one apologizing for how lame the crowd was, yet he was one of them. This is a situation I've grown accustomed to so it didn't throw me. We played well, they said they had a good time, job done!
There was a cute red-bearded big boy whom I had recognized from the last time I was in Ames with KM. Apparently, he had found out about the show because he is a friend of the promoter. After our first set, I saw him milling about towards our merchandise table/stand/area. I told Victor to sell him a CD and give him my phone number (duh, like he's gonna call me in SF) while I went to change a broken string and get ready for the second set. When I came back in, he was talking with the promoter and then, came over to us to have us sign the CD he had purchased. After talking to him, I found him to be kinda nervous, but a genuine music fan. After the show we got into a deeper conversation about analog synthesizers and about how he used to be 1 of 15 punk rock kids in Iowa 15 years ago. He was still rather nervous, but I figured that was his general disposition. He then said he had to get up early for work the next day, shook my hand and said goodnight. As he left, a song lyric for some years back came to mind to put everything into perspective: 'If we communicate for two minutes only, that would be enough.' (Boy, is that cheesy or what?!)
Well, it finally happened. I played a gig in a shopping mall! It was actually a bar/club in a shopping mall, but the crowd was basically Indiana mall-kids (old enough to drink of course). The best moment during the show was we finished playing 'Out In The Heat' (our slow, waltzy number), about 3 of the 100 people there applauded. We didn't care since we were all a little drunk, high, full from the huge dinner they served us or a combination of all three. Another good thing about this show was that we were on stage by 9pm, off by 10pm and rolling out of the place by 10:45. We were checked into this fleabag on the outskirts, and rather dicey part of town by 11:15. Talk about fleabags, a rotary phone in the room, so I couldn't even check my messages. So I took the van and went down the street to make a couple of phone calls.
It was early enough to go out, but unfortunately I didn't know where to go and knew no one to take me wherever it was to go. I thought about getting some White Castles, since that's where I found a phone booth, and head back to the room. However, by the time I got off the phone at midnight, the drive-in window line was way too long. As I'm pulling out of the WC lot, I look around at the neighborhood and I say to myself, 'There must be a (adult) bookstore around here somewhere'. I look over to my left and not 200 yards down and across the road, there it is! Now, I don't do the bookstore thing that well, but I thought 'what the hell, it's right here, let's check it out, I'm not doin' anything else...' I'm much better at cruising in a bar and talking to people. The no talking, anonymous sex thing is a little strange to me, though not unfamiliar. After walking around the booths in the back for a little while, I end up in this 'buddy booth' with this cute/nervous/possibly mostly straight guy in the next booth. We go at it for a few minutes, then he ran out of tokens and I thought he went to go get more. We he came back, it ended up not being him, but this really cute brown bearded bear guy. This was certainly not an unwelcome change in the least, so we went at it for a while. After we finished up in there, I followed him out of the bookstore and we met up in the parking lot across the street. He said he was on his way to The 501 (the bear/leather bar in Indy). I explained to him that I had a van full of equipment, but he thought that it would be safe around there. Again, what the hell! So I followed him to the bar. All of a sudden, I'm on the freeway headed back into Indianapolis, following some guy I don't really know to the bar. I'm shaking my head in disbelief all the way.
We get there and walk in, and I come to find that there's a leather run going on in town this weekend. All these guys dressed in their leather duds, and I'm dressed like a complete shlub like I just got off a work at my tow truck job, which I guess wasn't too bad, but I still felt a little out of place and overdressed. My 'buddy' and I went upstairs to the almost-completely-dark cruising room, had a beer and talked for a little while. After a bit, I excused myself to go stow my sweatshirt and cap in the van and get a little more comfortable. When I came back in, my 'buddy' was talking to this really cute chubby bear, whom I was cruising earlier as we were talking. As soon as I walked up to them and said something to my buddy, out of the darkness I hear a familiar voice say 'Chris Xefos!' This cute chubby bear ends up being a friend of mine from Chicago whom I hadn't seen since Bear Pride '95. We had a great reunion hug right there. He then explained that he was just passing through Indy on his way to visit his dad. As we were all talking there for a little while, the surrealness of the situation hit me and I thought 'this is all not supposed to be happening'. This is however what the adventure of touring is all about. The three of us talked for a little while longer, then I sensed our conversation going elsewhere. At that point, I began negotiations and got all three of us agreed to head back to my friend from Chicago's motel room. We went back and had a great time!
We played our first show with Poi Dog Pondering last night, and it went pretty well. They are a lot better and I like them at lot more than I thought I would. They are this sprawling ten piece unit that includes an amazing percussionist (Leddie), violin (Susan), two great backup singers (Robert and Arlene though she's not joining up with the tour until NYC), keyboardist doubling as an incredible trumpet player and a completely sweet guy (Dave a.k.a. 'Max'). In fact, all of whom I met so far are very sweet and nice, including the road crew (Eric, Jim and Bob). The bass player (Brent) was showing me his brand new instrument after the show and had offered for me to use his amp at any time during the tour. A really great guy and a great player too. All of these people are led by mastermind/lead vocal/songwriter dude Frank Orall. Frank seems to have a good amount of control/non control over the situation. I have a hard enough time dealing with the five people in our band. I could never imagine holding the reigns over a ten piece unit. They're sound is very dance/groove oriented with a pinch of folk/world beat thrown in. I usually find this combination rather annoying, but they seem to pull it off really well incorporating both sequenced and taped rhythm tracks in combination with the already grooving live rhythm they've got going. Victor told me that the drummer (Steve) was the guy that played on the first Elvis Costello record and has played for a long time in The Mekons. I haven't met him yet, but he seems like a nice enough chap.
Unfortunately, the stage here wasn't very large, so for us to set up our gear in front of theirs was a little workout. That, combined with the fact they were at least two hours late, made it a pretty crazy time for us. However, their crew was extremely accommodating and helped us out a lot more than they had to. They moved whatever gear they could, and Eric had the club hold the doors (keep the audience out) until we finished getting set up. We played pretty well under the circumstances and were received surprising well by the crowd. Considering all of this, it seems like this tour may be a somewhat easy and certainly a fun ride. I'm looking forward to it.
Goddamn its cold! Back in Louisville, it was short sleeves, 70 degrees and great! Now, it's back to sub-freezing without the wind chill. I'm spoiled by SF. Last night's show here was OK. I'm sure we're gonna start hitting a groove soon, I hope! As we were setting up our gear, I noticed photos of past performers of the club hanging on the wall. One of these photos was a rather large one of Mitch Easter and Faye Hunter of the band, Let's Active. These are two of my heroes, with Mitch being an ultimate hero of mine. I thought it rather odd to have such a large photo of a relatively unknown group, but the people that run the club probably think it's just another cool photo. It certainly warmed me up and made me feel pretty good to see it.
As part of last night's festivities, Jason and I had a little spat. We had only a few minutes to get all of our equipment set up on stage before the doors of the club were to open. We were under this pressure because Poi had some technical problems with the PA and consequently their soundcheck went long. My experience had told me to expect this, so I was not surprised and was moving as quickly as possible. On the other hand, this is Jason's first tour so his experience in dealing with these situations is a little limited. In the melee of setting up, Jason had brought his guitar in his case onto the already cramped stage. I asked Jason not to do that, it's better to have less cases on stage, less to trip over. He, unfortunately, took my suggestion the wrong way and made some snide comment, which then set me off. After a brief outburst, we diligently finished setting up and our soundcheck. Jason then outrageously decided to continue this argument in the dressing room as we were getting ready for the show. I became so angry with him that I was shaking, which doesn't often happen. Most of my tension was probably due to pre-show nerves. I've been down this road before, so I knew after the show everything would be alright, and it was. In fact, it was probably better for Jason to play the show with that little edge of anger on. He probably played better than he would have without it, and maybe someday he'll realize that.
Also on the schedule of events last night, an old friend of mine came to the show. I hadn't seen him in 3 years and was looking forward to the reunion. I met him originally at a KM show back in '91 when he and his partner at the time came to that show 'cause they saw me wearing a BEAR magazine hat in a photo in Rolling Stone. We had a great time that night, and have kept in touch since then. I've seen him everytime I've been in Cleveland, except the last, hence the length between meetings. Now last night, I saw my friend walk into the club just as were hitting the stage. It always inspires me to see my friends in the audience, and even more so when I'm on the road. After our set, we hung around the club and our dressing room, caught up on each other a little, and watched a bit of Poi's set. We then went off to this bar, Rocky's, for a drink. For many reasons, I'm glad to have connected with guys like my friend here (a friendly face in a strange place, the whole bear family thing,...). Unfortunately this evening, after we caught up with each other's lives, I didn't feel we had that much to talk about. At Rocky's, we ended up mostly just sitting there and watching the Academy Awards (how fucking gay is that!) He is real nice and way cute. Maybe we just weren't clicking last night. After a few awards, he dropped me back at the club, he of course having to get home and get ready for work today, like most normal people. I hope I see him again soon.
Right now, we're driving along the Ohio Turnpike and there are already highway signs that say 'blah, blah, blah, New York City'. I can't believe we're that close. It's been a while.
Dear - - - -,
Last night, as I was standing on the cold, wet sidewalk in front of the club and saw you walking up towards me, it all came flooding back to me. I flashed back to the first time I saw you at The Lone Star, that Thursday night of Folsom Street Fair weekend. I couldn't take my eyes off of you, and was so glad when I finally spoke to and connected with you. I wanted to ravage you right then and there, but then it got worse. That next night, while I was DJing and you recognized the Guadalcanal Diary album cover from ten feet away, I almost lost it right there. I thought 'I need to get to know this guy better'. Then on that Monday night, when we went to the Great American Music Hall to see my friend perform (not to forget the Taco Bell bonding we did before the show) it was absolutely magical. With you wrapped around me while watching this amazing music happen and knowing that you were enjoying it too, I was definitely in heaven. Then, as suddenly as you appeared, you were gone.
Thanks so much for bringing all your friends to the show last night. It was a good idea on your part to use the show as an excuse to catch up and hang with your friends. It made me real happy to see that happen and I wished more of my friends would do that at our shows. I'm sorry I couldn't hang out more with you and your friends. They all seem real nice, though I'm not surprised.
It's been good to stay in touch. I had been anticipating and was actually quite anxious about seeing you last night. After the show, when just you and I were talking, I know it was only maybe 15 or 20 minutes, but it seemed like hours and I wished it could have lasted a lot longer than that. I really wanted to go home with you and spend the night, but then again I want to spend a lot of time with you. Something is telling me I could ..., but right now I can't. I'll explain more later, after you move to SF in Sept. Maybe by that time, no explanation will be needed. I can only hope. I also hope we can spend a lot more time then. Fuck, I hope I have the time to spend with you. There I go again, full of hopes and dreams. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you soon. Take care bud.
-----Chris
We played a show here without Poi, headlining at J.C. Dobbs. It went pretty well.
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