Tour Diary

Day- 1

Waking up at 4.30 in the morning is a feat... but waking up at 4.30 and driving north to seattle is an entirely different story. The only thing that kept me up was my last day at my shitty job, my last day with my girl, and the first day of the Ferocious Eagle tour. I was excited and hesitant. I don't like leaving the things I love behind for much longer than I have to, and I certainly don't like leaving them behind for no good reason. All I can do is hope that the FE tour is a good reason.

The drive was much like the show that night. Long and frustrating. Playing a shitty show out of town is no new thing to us, for that matter playing a shitty show in general is no new thing to us- the important thing is to keep a stiff upper lip and remember that then next show will be better. I hope all shows are better than this one. We played to a crowd of about 12, in a room that made us sound louder than we usually do, and with bands that were more depressed about the show then we were. When all was said and done we got paid nothing and sold one CD to Eric's nephew. I always feel bad about selling merch to family members, it seems like something they should get for free- something they are entitled to- something that they helped make.

Day 2

The next night we played in Portland, our hometown. Everyone had the day off so energy and expectations were high. The venue was the Towne Lounge. I hate the towne lounge. Everytime I've played there something happens that pisses me off or screws things up, and here we are marching into the same venue again- expecting the same result. Insane, no? We set up and played like bandits. Something was on that night. We reached into our hat and pulled out a rabbit, pissed of and on meth. I knew it was good because it felt good. After that it was happy times. We left at 11am the next day so we could go out and have a good time. The only shitty thing about the show was getting screwed on the door. Its strange to set up a show and then find out later that you are the only band that didnt get a guarentee. I ended up making a mistake that night and sending a drunken angry email to our booking agent. Not a good idea, but I was pissed that we had gotten paid shit for two shows in a row.

Day 3

Woke up on March 31st. It was a day that I had anticipated for a very long time. Finally our record is released and we are going on tour. I felt anxious and it was reflected in everything I did. I couldn't keep anything in my mind... I couldn't keep a conversation... I couldn't be myself. I did the best packing job that I felt I could and said goodbye to Kirsten. Got in the car, picked up Eric, and just like that, left home for 5 weeks solid. Things were moving fast and that speed caught up with me in the form of police lights somewhere in the middle of Oregon. A ticket in any other state is a fraction of what the tickets are like in Oregon. Two hours into it and I had already gone into debt to the tune of 250 dollars. I felt like a big ass. But as big of an ass that I felt like, that couldnt stop us from heading out.

We arrived in Boise, Idaho around 7pm. I was worried because we were a bit late, but it turned out that we were the only band playing that night so it didnt matter. The show was wierd, but good none the less. We played well to a crowd of about 10. The Neurolux is a pretty big venue to echo in so you know it when no one is listening. For some reason it was ok though. I was excited to just travel.

Boise is Eric's home town so he knew the lay out. Boise is loaded with super young high schoolers who spend most of their expendable income on their cars. Every friday and saturday the streak down the main road in town and show off what they have. All the girls walk the street and wait for a car to pass that catches their eye- when one does they all jump in and ride for a couple of blocks. Then they get out and wait for the next ride. Its a strange mating ritual but if it works then it works. After the show we walked the strip for a while and got a feel for the place. Eric's mom is a musician too so we went across town to see her play at a bar called Mr. Luckeys. The place was priceless. The best way to describe this place is to say that its somewhere that a Rod Stewart look alike would fit in (and he did). Its also a place that ugly middle age people go to get laid. It felt great to be there. We danced for a bit and took some photos of the act. Eric's Mom was good but the other singer (think Neil Diamond, minus the talent and good looks with an ego that only a small town could offer) was awful. Got drunk there and then went to a park to play some frizbee and get stoned, and we got stoned indeed. I think at one point in our game I came to the conclusion that "cement is wood"... everyone laughed but I really meant it. As soon as the pot took hold of me it was a timetable to bed. About an hour later I was curled up in the hospitality of Eric's Mom and stepdad, Mike, and slept till noon the next day.

Day 4

Our show fell through in Salt Lake City so we ended up staying in Boise another night. Eric's Mom had a BBQ in honer of her 49th birthday and we feasted. I was so tired the entire day that I only lasted about 12 hours... then back to sleep.

Day 5

On the 2nd we drove out to Logan, Utah - aka Nowhere, Mormonsville. When we drove in it felt like I was in the middle of what Nazi Germany had always dreamed of, blond hair, blue eyes, youth... it was disturbing. Our show was on campus at the collage so we drove in and loaded our stuff. "Family Home Night" was the sign that read outside the show. I guess family home night is something that mormons do as a once a week activity for the whole nuclear unit. I don't understand how they thought that we would fit the bill but somehow we were on it. Maybe it is our song "Lionhearted" that convinced them that it would be a great thing for all ages. The other bands were good but they were good in the punk pop Los Angels sort of way. Not my bag, but what they did- they did well. Our show went as well as we could have hoped. There were 30 people there and about 15 of them were very excited about what we were doing. The crowd cheered and screamed for us and we gave them all we had. At one point a little girl about 3 feet tall and barely aware of the world walked up to the stage in between songs and said "did you guys know that you're songs really rock" but it came out more like "did you guyws know that you songs weally wock". It was adorable. We gave her a t-shirt. We also met 1/2 of the ownership of our record label. He was in the area for his sons wedding and happened to come by our show. It was good to finally meet him because until that moment our record label was made up of cyborgs who randomly generate 1's and 0's into emails and websites. It was nice to finally meet a person. Afterwards we drove to Lyman, Wyoming to stay with Eric's dad for the night.

There is something that the west coast offers you that I haven't seen anywhere else. Its a feeling of space and privacy. On the drive out to Lyman (a three hour treck through the mountains and planes of Utah) we got to feel it in an extraordinary way. Though it was night, the moon was clear and there was snow everywhere to reflect light onto the landscape. The giant white fields butted up against mountains and lakes made me feel like things were going to be just fine. I understand why people want to live alone so far away from civilization, you can trust the mountains and the water, they are reliable in the same way that your grandfather is. It feels like they have been there forever and aren't going to leave anytime soon.

Day 6

The next day we woke up in Wyoming and at 9.30 in the morning and left to shoot guns. I've never shot a gun before. I didn't know how much power a gun can give you, or how much fear a gun can give someone when they are at the barrel. The first thing I noted about shooting is the volume. Ferocious Eagle is a loud band, but this gun did much more to deafen me than any guitar or drum beat has ever done. I shot the same rifle that rouges use in Afghanistan to fight Americans. It gave me a strange feeling of connection and sympathy to them. I also shot a 30 ought 6, a powerful gun. If your not ready for it you'll be on your ass before you even had a chance to know what happened. Shooting was fun but it made me feel like I was making a sport out of power and violence. Its like football on drugs. I'd had enough and so we drove to Denver.

The only remarkable thing about Denver is how hyped the show was and how few people showed up. We were booked with all local bands and I think a total of 4 people paid to get into the show. Not even the girlfriends of the bands came the the show. It sucked but in the end we met some cool people and made some good connections. That's the point of a tour after all.

We stayed in Boulder, Colorado that night. Kirsten (my girlfriend) used to live there so she had some friends for us to stay with, Justin and Malichai. They were two solid dudes. They fed us and gave a place to sleep and then took us out to breakfast the next morning. And just as quickly as we came to Colorado we left.

Day 6 and 7 (they blend together)

The drive to Manhattan, Kansas is flat. It looks like the kind of America that you seen in the movies. Red barns, cows, corn fields... pretty boring stuff. It made me feel safe though. We drove for 9 hours to finally get to our venue. We showed up at nine thirty to an empty venue and a bored bar tender. The sound guy didn't show up until about 10.30 and he was high on meth. I didn't trust him. He kept on waxing about how shitty the town was and I couldn't help but think that he wasn't doing much to make it any better. The other band showed up at 11.15 right before we were about to play. They had no crowd so the show was a bust. On thing I knew was that staying there for the night would be folly. When our set was done we packed up, got paid and left. It was 1am and the drive to St. Paul was 9 hours.

Jon and Eric found a restarant and I slept in the car. Eric drove through Kansas City and I slept in the car. When Eric was too tired to continue Jon drove... and I slept in the car. Jon drove through Missouri and I slept in the car, he drove through Iowa and I slept in the car. He drove all the way to St. Paul and pulled into the city just as I woke up, fresh as a daisy. I couldn't understand why he wasn't excited to be there. We found the venue and at 10 in the morning parked there. Mark, our friend from Portland, had moved there recently and offered his place for the night. A very welcomed thing. We waited at the venue for hours before Mark met us and gave us the key to his place. There was a really cool surplus store around the corner from the venue. It was a place that I could see myself spending hours wandering the aisles and collecting thing for projects inspired by projects. They had an iron lung from the 60's and dentist chairs with sexy girls in them, circuit boards and bolts and everything a kid could ever hope for in a store. I bought some fake ants and a book light.

Mark showed up about an hour later and gave us the keys. A beautiful moment of reunion and relief in the tour. I need a shower, I needed a shave, I needed a nap and Mark provided all of that. His place is in Minniapolis in a really cool area. Its the top floor of a old brick building with a great view of a church steeple. I took care of all my bathroom needs and sat down to relax. In that same moment I took in my surroundings. A nice apartment, warm, quiet... quiet enough to hear the birds out side... quiet enough to hear the tow truck taking our van from off the street. When I realized what was happening I ran down stairs as quickly as possible and jumped in the van. They hadn't hooked our van up to the tow truck yet so I was able to just drive away with no problems but if I were a few seconds late then we would have had to pay impound fees and miss our show that night. Im glad it was quiet in Marks apartment, I'm glad I had a moment of peace.

The show that night was the best show of the tour so far. The venue was awesome and the people were excited to see us. The bands were really well matched and the door paid well. We also sold a bunch of merch. I couldnt imagine a better show. The blind shake was one of the best bands I've seen in ages, the shredded in a way I couldn't believe. They were also really good dudes. After the show we went to Marks favorite bar. It reminded me of a bar in PDX called The Sandy Hut, only much bigger. The drinks were strong but the place did last call right when we sat down. We toasted to a great show, had our drink and when back to Marks place. Drank some whisky there and smoked a joint. Every now and again the universe aligns and you get the perfect mixture of pot and alchohaul. Tonight was my night. I felt great, and it was awesome to be around someone as interesting and engaging as Mark. We talked for hours until the sleep was pushing my head into the pillow. Jon was so tired that he fell asleep in the bathroom and we had to rescue him, he had no idea what was going on. I fell asleep wishing Kirsten was there and feeling good about the tour.

Day 8

We woke up at 11.30 and Mark bought us some breakfast sandwiches and coffee. People become so generous when you are on tour. We drank the coffee, ate our sandwiches packed our stuff and left. Minniapolis is a good city.

The drive to DeKalb is about 6 hours. Im getting so used to driving long distance that 6 hours feels like nothing. Driving into DeKalb is like wandering through a corn patch and finding a city on the other side. Its not a big place but it does have a couple of good venues. We didn't play at a good venue though. It was a filthy basement converted into pool tables and a bar. The stage is off to the side and makes it so no one has to get close to see your band play. The show was shit but we got a couple people exctied about our music. We were also drunk. We found a place to stay with the door guy Ian. Ian is young and big. He still believes in punk rock and getting trashed. He thinks its artistic to be out of control and loving it. He's a dude in every sense. He had us follow him 45 minutes out side of Dekalb to a place called Evanston. The house lies in between two small towns so no city police or government can mess with it. It is the shittiest place I've ever stayed at. When we walked in the place smelled like sulfer and flood water. The floors hadn't been cleaned in years and its primary use was a venue. It's a condemned house but no one has gotten around to kicking the tenants out or tearing it down. The walls were tagged with the punks, junkies and bands that had been there before. They looked like the walls of a downtown bathroom in New York city. The place was just rotting. I grabbed my sleeping bag and tried to make the best of it. It was 25 degrees outside so I wanted to sleep inside but the house was so offensive that I may have been better off sleeping with the wolves. I bag down on top of filth and garbage and tried to think happy thoughts. A few moments after laying down and getting comfortable an entire party showed up, drunk and awake. They smoked and laughed and I closed my eyes hard. I tried to imagine me in a warm bed next to my girl with the covers pulled high and her in my arms. I tried to image my cat curled up on the couch with me, snoring away. I tried to imagine anything but where I was. Then the giant dog sat down on me. I realized I was already sleeping with the wolves. I pushed the dog off, grabbed my sleeping bag, put my shoes on and got in the van. Eric was there already there.