Tour Journal Entries

Shinybass journal entry 05-16-11

First things first…

Last week I was having some serious computer problems. Not like The computer and I weren’t talking, or it kept leaving the seat down in the bathroom, but some trouble with my recording software program. I have been churning out music without issue (except for the actual content, but we can debate that later), and for some reason, it decided to start locking up on me. Not good when it is a Mac, although when anything is pushed too far, it will crack and eventually break. So after coercing a friend over to try and fix it (to no avail), reading all kinds of forum boards (it is amazing how many people really know the inner workings of these things), and no choice but to resort to soft, muffled sobbing, I decided to up my RAM and clean my system out. Call it a cleansing, or exorcism, or detox, but either way I am bound and determined to not let this glitch slow me down. Of course, I am typing this as the cold, lifeless RAM upgrade chips stare me down from just left of my keyboard like two final exams for which I have not studied. If I screw things up, then I guess I screw things up, but I wanted to type this BEFORE I attempt the install, just in case.

Not that I plan on screwing things up with the install. Sometimes I just don’t get along with inanimate objects. Except guitars, I guess. We get along just fine. Heck, I take my guitar all over the place. Like Florida, for example. (Wow, my segue skills are pretty amazing, if I may say so)

When we see ‘private event’ on our calendars, we tend to get a little excited. When we see this scene out of the bus windshield, well, we are all suddenly children…

As well we should be.  Children, I mean.  Of course, this sign was a little misleading.  Yes, we were technically at Walt Disney World.  Did I see any of the park.  Well, I saw Epcot from my hotel room.  That was about it.  Turns out we stayed at (and performed) at a big resort complete with a Boardwalk, white sand beach and too many restaurant choices.  Terrible, I know.  Just to show you HOW terrible…

 

The last picture was taken to demonstrate the hopelessness I felt when I saw my room number – 7001 – which meant not only at the end of this hallway, but entailed another turn of some kind, followed by an oxygen tank.  I couldn’t drive that far without getting tired, let alone walk it.  Happiest place on Earth, indeed.

As you can see, the downtime was well-spent, and I got my share of sun, exercise, and sweating in the 90-degree Florida heat.  A damn shade warmer than Loves Island, Illinois, site of our next show.  You talk about cabin fever at this one.  We were at a racetrack, which was near, well, nothing.  Our hotel was a solid 20-minute drive, so that was a bit of a hassle to get to and fro, and to make things better – it was 50 degrees and raining the whole day.  But am I complaining?  Nope.  True, we were a little punchy and ready to play by the time the rain delay was lifted, and the smiles on our faces were evidence of that.  Plus once the crowd gets going, then we get going.  So if you were there, thank you for braving the elements to make the show great.

This week we head to Niagara Falls and to Baltimore to rock the Preakness.  This is my first big horse race, so I am looking forward to losing some money on the horse with the craziest name.  Of course, that would have to be King Congie, which is awfully close to King Konga, so I have to roll with that one.  We are playing the infield with Puddle of Mudd, so it should be a hugely crazy event.

Thanks to everyone who downloaded Phil’s new single.  I hope to see you all singing it at a show very soon, and even better, you should bug your local radio stations to play it.  It looks to be a fun summer, indeed.  Here’s a parting shot from Rockford, IL, and thanks to whoever shot this.  I think we were having fun, yes?

 

See you on the road!

 

 

Husband, Dad, Brother, and Son. Bass player for the creative, lover of all life, most coffee, and great tone. Play every note like it is your last.

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