Hey everybody,
There are mad stories to tell.  Crazy things have happened, and continue to happen.  For example, just three weeks ago, I saw the Grand Canyon, the Hoover Dam, Salt Lake, and the Mormon Temple, all in less than 48 hours. 
We got through the worst of it, and Isaac lit out from Vegas, only to be replaced by Vikesh.  It's weird and disorienting to have people popping on and off the tour, but fun.  I would not say I can barely remember what it was like to be in the North in April, but I CAN say I feel like I've been through about thirty different lifestyle changes in the past two months.  Some of these shows have been simultaneously amazing and humbling, and I'm pretty sad to see this jaunt coming to a close.

However:

We pulled into Cincinnati last night, for a show at a pretty cool looking bar.  I didn't have much hope for the show, as I'd booked it only a few weeks before, and hadn't been able to get a flier off to them.  THIS WAS MY MISTAKE, and I was resigned to dealing with a wash gig on my head.

But it looked like it was gonna be okay:  we got in and found out they'd booked a local with a draw, and we were on time for show time.

A couple of hours later, this band shows up, two nice enough dudes and this peacock lookin' idjit in button down, khakis and a ten gallon hat that still had the price tag on it.  Vikesh gets onstage, Peacock dude starts in on me about his band playing next, instead of me.  A bunch of shit talk happens, Dan gets in on it.  This chubby fucker gets in Dan's face and claims to be their manager, shouts Dan down and the band ends up getting onstage.

I wish I could remember anything about how the band sounded, but all I could hear was static and all I could taste was rage.  Peacock talked shit about me and Dan during their set.  All of their friends (all seven of them: this was what we were fighting over) were gathered at a corner table.  Peacock addressed them as "girls" (all of them dudes), and I realized: gay bar.

Not that this is a problem.  Simply, this is now a different playing field.  You have to conduct yourself differently in a small town gay bar than you do in an anarchist collective, a hip NYC bar or a Barnes & Noble.  So I did the only thing I know how: tear the roof off the motherfucker.  I started out in the back room, where everybody quickly exited for the outer bar.  I did the scream in the middle of "A Brighter Light" deliberately and immediately into peacock's ear, who was trying to ignore me and carry on a conversation.

Ignore me, motherfucker.  I have menaced bigger and tougher (and smarter [and more talented {and better looking}]) men than you in my life.

After a couple of songs, one of the stragglers suggested I go out in the outer bar and sing to the crowd out there.  So I do, and it's comical and magical.

I go out in the outer bar and start singing "Remain Upright," staring right at chubby fucker.  I made a catty comment in the middle, "This part is for anyone who's ever traveled outside of their zip code to play a show," and chubby starts making noise, "Gay Men Unite," like I'd got their hackles up and they were gonna gang up on me.  I was not, for a moment, afraid.  Again, I have stood up to bigger, meaner people than you, boy.

I hope the cool dudes from the local band know I have no hard feelings for them.  Nice guys, both of 'em.  Eventually peacock went and hid, and chubby fucker resigned himself to being shouted down, ultimately shining a flashlight in my eyes for an entire song, which I stared straight into.  I out-played that idjit, and I shouted down his loudmouth friend.  Eventually, most of the people in the outer room gave a shit, and the two problem children looked like fools.

This is what a professional does, people: represents under the greatest duress and into the faces of the most unappreciative audiences.  And wins them over.  I hope you'll take that as an important lesson, whether you find yourself in my position (take-no-shit touring musician), peacock's (talentless local) or his band's (nice guys in bad circumstances).

To my New York friends, my birthday party is Thursday, June 18th, at Sidewalk Cafe. 
The lineup:
730 Ted Hadji (from Austin)
8 Elastic No-No Band (from the A/V department)
9 My Idea Of Fun Collective (from Johnstown, PA)
10 Brook Pridemore (from the timeout room)
11 Endless Mike and the Beagle Club (from Johnstown, PA)
12 Huggabroomstik (from Bizarro World)
Free Show.  Tip Jar.  Buy a couple drinks.  94 Ave. A at 6th St.
love
brook