.

.
.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Proof that I'm really here (whereever we are).

Show date: Hot as hell on a dirt track in Beatrice, Nebraska. While setting up my table the merch guy beside me says he’s been doing this on and off since he was 17 years old. Mike Tipton (out of Atlanta) said in one of the earliest of days he sold for Ted Nugent. This was during “the hay days” of the early 70’s. After only a coupla months of doing this, I’ve found that there is such a camaraderie among all the merch guys. They’ve ALL been incredibly helpful in teaching me how best to do it. One guy (Tom from Travis Tritt’s outfit) even went so far as to get out his fan from the bus and made sure Jason had it blowing on him in the 90+ degree heat (while he was signing).  I’d met the guy only 2 hours earlier.  
Back to yesterday: Being out of town so much, I’m trying to get to where I find a gym as much as possible. We’re in luck. One’s a block from the hotel (the “Elegant Victorian Inn”). Me and John head that way. We both do our own thing and after about 30 minutes, he’s finished. I’m about half way through. Here’s the deal. John’s got abs like he does nothing all day but crunches. Me, I've got abs that look like I do nothing all day but drink PBR. Not one to be snitty (like a girl), I do hope that one day he becomes the first pregnant man and ends up with the abs of Roseanne Barr. Fuck him (promise to not use the “f-bomb” often but this is an unavoidable occasion and the only word that really expresses my emotions and by the way Hemmingway used it, didn’t he?). Well, I end up working out another 30 minutes, blow off my “cardio” part cuz it STILL ain’t gonna make me look any better and head back to the hotel (I’ll say it again,  and in the words of Hemmingway (I’m guessing), “fuck him”). 

Mike Tipton-Steel Magnolia's Merch guy. He didn't like me.

My view of the stage. Keeps me from throwing shit at the stage,I guess.

Aaron passing gas around helpless bystandards

My favorite part of the night.
The show goes pretty good. It’s the first show of this run and a little loose given that these guys are usually tight as shit but it all goes pretty smoothly. THEN comes my favorite part of the night. The “autograph line”. You see Jason has a serious problem. He sincerely likes people. I don’t think he wants to sign their picture, have his picture taken with them as much as he sincerely wants to really meet them and talk to them (bizarre, ain't it?). Well see, since this isn’t a Sunday dinner, I have to be the A-hole who tries to get as MANY people "through" as possible in the limited window and before the next act starts. As good as this guy has really become as an artist on stage, this IS his God given gift (I believe) meeting people. Anyways, I gotta get all my shit done, so I kindly (in my on sweet way) push/pull/pry and cajole them along, take a blurry picture and tell them that it’ll all be “photoshoppable” (just trust me). Well, we get through it, load up, shower at the hotel and hit the road for what turns out to be a HELLAVU night/drive to Twin Lakes,WI.  Sloshing onward and upward….  X's to one and all, S

No comments:

Post a Comment