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Artist Diary - The Dudesc/o: SoundProof Magazine Before you read this, you should know that I will be fuzzed out on painkillers for this entire festival due to a recent dreadful accident. DAY ONE
Dear tour diary, The plane is late so now we're half loaded, airport style. The flight attendant has good news. Apparently, if the power goes out mid flight, the floor lighting will illuminate the aisles. So we've already got that going for us.
TORONTO
Our hotel is the worst. The only window looks into the Chinatown Centre mall. Not into the parking lot or anything, you can see cash registers and discount shoes and all that. The comforter on my bed should be spelled with a U, if you know what I'm saying.
DAY TWO
We played Lee's Palace last night. It was same ol' same ol' Dudes genius. Nah, we played kind of bad actually but I won't sweat it. It's not like we shit the bed; it's more like we peed our pants. But just a bit. And we had black jeans on so it's no big deal. We saw lots of old friends. We met some people that we had never met before. We all got loaded in our gross hotel then went to the Bovine. It was sweaty packed and too many people were touching me so I split with Philly the sound guy. On the way home we got high with a couple from Delaware. It was raining and quite lovely. They said they'd come to the show on Saturday. I wonder if they will? Maybe you could make a wager with your friend.
DAY THREE
Today we hit Newfoundland. First, to Squirly's for food maybe just one pint. Brady feels sick. He says, "I don't know if my liver is telling me 'No!' or if my stomach is telling me, 'Yes!'". I'm writing this on the cab ride to the airport, so for me, the past has just become the present . . . now.
The flight was super fun. The newfie crew was encouraging us to get loaded. I didn't want to but I didn't want them talking shit about Calgary rock bands so I did. Now I sit in a hotel with my pals in the travel inn, type typing on the keyboard and the diary has caught up to reality again. Tomorrow a show with Fred Penner! No joke!
DAY FOUR
St. John's is sweet. I like it here a lot. Newfie girls are all doughy soft but hard as fuck. We met up with our bud Tim from Hey Rosetta!. He took us to a place that serves cheap white russians all day all night, seven days a week. A nice milky foundation for my party building. We had just 20 minutes to rock out so we played super fast. A girl from the conference comes up to us after the show and shakes our hands but skips the conference guy we were hanging out with. He's like, "Hey! Why'd you skip me?" she starts yelling at him, "Because you motorboated my tits last night you asshole!". He turns all white and I laugh like crazy. We saw The Tom Fun Orchestra and my new favorite band, The Subtitles. Great effing night. We were supposed to play with children's TV star, Fred Penner but he had a heart attack. Let's hope he's alright.
DAYS FIVE-SIX
I woke up and puked. And then I did it again. I remember thinking my bile looked like a a super cool galaxy swirling around the toilet bowl. Now we fly back to Toronto.
We get to do our Feldman party tonight, except I would rather do something different. Like sleep or maybe die. East Side Mario's is the worst effing restaurant but you probably already know that. Badda-boom, badda-food poisoning.
The show ended up being super fun. I got there exactly when we were setting up. I think it's funny how your body always gets itself right when it's time to rock. A dude comes up to me as I'm packing my pedals, he says, "Dan!" I don't really recognize him . . . he starts miming like he's rolling a joint, "It's me, Delaware!" Nice, they made it! Fast forward to many tall Steam Whistles later, a pocket full of business cards I'll never look at, I got to first base with a pretty girl and it's back to the hotel for a three hour drunk sleep. I thought Grand Analog killed it last night, and Said The Whale are champs. I'm writing this on the airplane ride home. There's a crazy man behind me with different colored socks kicking my seat. Dan Vacon, The Dudes
9:01 PM
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