Both ILCK and the Quadrajets tried to play every show booked regardless of the circumstances– rain, sleet, or snow, injured, absent or sick band member, money or no money, two or two hundred people, promotion or no promotion. There were some cancellations during the end days of both bands, but a band breaking up is oftentimes like breaking up with a girlfriend or boyfriend. There's a limbo period before the final parting. The limbo period consists of nostalgia for "how things used to be," an inner voice reminding one's self of the deep respect for that person who's driving you crazy, "let's talk it out" themed band meetings, and consequently, dates get sporadically cancelled before the absolute final break up. So those dates broken during our limbo period aside, ILCK and the Quadrajets busted ass to make all shows. I'm proud of that. The work ethic did bring us some good things. Nevertheless, I would like to urge bands to cancel some of your shows. Nothing feels more liberating. It reminds one's self that you are still in control of your own life. Canceling shows humanizes the band. I've wondered why some show promoters refer to themselves as "talent buyers" or refer to bands as the "entertainment" or "the act" or "the Wednesday night band." If a promoter booked the Quadrajets on a Wednesday night, it's the Quadrajets (Jamie, Kevin, JR, Pudd, Jason, Rob et al) who are booked, not the "Wednesday night band" or talent bought. Names are important.

Consider how people are dehumanized into stereotypes and subsequently objectified. First, the discriminator takes away the group's identity. For instance, the discriminator stops referring to people by their names. Instead, they start referring to women as "sluts" or "bitches" etc. Second, the discriminator attaches generalizations to people: "All women are crazy" or "You can't leave a bitch at home alone, they'll fuck you over every time." Attaching those generalizations further takes away a woman's identity, thus discriminators treat her like an object rather than a person. When the woman reacts, (many times by simply being herself and drawing and converting the one time discriminator into the community, or she delivers a lazer guided strike to bring the pain) her action establishes her individuality in the eyes of the discriminator. Humanization negates stereotyping.

Canceling a rock-n-roll show is a great way to get a promoter's attention. It reminds the promoter he/she is dealing with human beings, not "acts." Too many promoters get away with too much: not hanging flyers, booking a band into the wrong type of club resulting in apathy and hatred, or maybe the promoter is a cheat, or lazy, or a person who thinks it would be cool to bring his/her favorite band to town for a Monday night. Hence, the band takes off work, throws the sick drummer with a bottle of NyQuil into the back of the band's van, and drives six hours to play for said promoter and two of his/her friends.

Being a promoter is a tough job. In fact, I could never do it. I don't have the gusto. It's a thankless task: hanging flyers, calling and begging folks to support shows, and always risking $. I remember too many times the uncomfortable feeling when a promoter handed me our guarantee on a night sparsely attended- those nights the promoter took a bath, and the band felt guilty, but we had to ask for our agreed guarantee; it was our living and we couldn't work for free. So promoters, we bands depend on you. We want you to get paid whatever you feel is worth all the hassle of promoting our shows, and we (the bands) want to get paid (not necessarily in $, getting paid in fun counts too) for our time and trouble. I hated standing outside a venue noting to myself that a flyer or mention of the show was nowhere to be found. The night before JR and I worked hours on the arrangement of such and such song, Jeff quit his job last week to go on tour, John's organ is finally fixed… and now there's no flyer in the club's front window. Too many times I played that show thinking, "at least I'm playing guitar, that's justification enough for being here." Bullshit. It's not. So, a swift kick to the balls or vajayjay would have been an appropriate reminder to the promoter that he/she forgot to hang the bloody flyers. Unfortunately, I never kicked any of those types. So they're still out there. I would like to suggest that if a promoter doesn't answer calls, if they start to treat bands like a product, if they can't remember your name, if they "lose" the flyers sent to them, if they're "out of the office" over and over, then they deserve a proverbial kick in the balls: the show must go on … bullshit. Stay home and write some new songs instead.

And to you promoters who worked hard on our shows and even helped us find a place to stay the night, let me say thank you. Good promoters are some of the best people in the world, and they don't even get to play guitar- they're too busy hanging flyers.

-- Chet