Griffin Writes

I know what you’re thinking: “Hey Griffin, where the hell is Part 2 to the Athens story you posted yesterday?” Well, assuming I don’t get trashed Friday and Saturday night, and spend the rest of the weekend in a hangover coma, it should be up bright and early for Monday.

In the meantime, I thought I’d ease your Friday along by tossing out some links that have caught my interest lately. Spread the love, as they say. » Read the rest of this entry «

Walking onto the bus for one last check before heading out to Athens, I was relieved to find that the Yuengling Light jokes had died down. Dave and Jeff were briefing the crew on the day’s game plan. I grabbed a few Red Bulls from the fridge for the road. Wheels Up wasn’t for thirty minutes but I mentioned to Jeff I was going to leave right away to get a head start. The UPS shipment was in a neighboring town, and the extra time would allow me to be at the theater, swag in tow, upon arrival. Jeff told me to hold on for a second while he found Jace in the back. A co-pilot was to ride with me on all the longer drives.

I took a seat across from Tucker. He was talking with Charlie and Greg about some possible filming ideas for the promo videos they were creating at each stop. When he was done, he called at Murph-pup to get under his table (“git in yer dogger house”) so that she was out of the way as people walked back and forth. His eyes caught a glimpse of my flip-flops. » Read the rest of this entry «

I awoke on the couch in our Atlanta hotel room with a mild hangover, something I’ve become accustomed to in day to day life. Any hangover resulting from less than a dozen beers is manageable. Two red bulls on my way to the van and I was off to another early start. The night before I’d found a plaza on Google maps a few miles away that contained all the major stores I needed to visit.

Driving through the tail-end of morning rush hour had a very different feel. Whereas back home I would be on auto pilot – eyes half open, lost endlessly in my own thoughts to the cartoonish soundtrack of radio dj chatter as I took the same roads, to the same parking spot, to the same office I had a thousand times before. Instead, here I was gripping the steering wheel with two hands, my eyes frantically darting between the GPS, street signs and traffic. I navigated the unfamiliar surroundings, in an unfamiliar van switching lanes to gain time and taking turns too late and too fast. Thankfully the morning commuters were there to compensate, hardly spilling a drop from their coffees as they braked to avoid me, too tired to bother laying on the horn. » Read the rest of this entry «

I awoke on the couch at 8:15 the morning of the main leg’s first show. Since I had a thousand things to do, I skipped breakfast to knock out some errands before a scheduled 10am bank run with the tour manager Dave. Driving the fifteen passenger van was an adjustment. Many curbs made their presence abruptly felt before I grasped the concept of taking turns a lot wider. And reversing in any instance was a nightmare. The good news was that the van did have some balls. Cutting people off came effortlessly, and who’s going to risk plowing their expensive Lexus into the side of a shitty van? The more expensive the car, the easier it was to get in front of it.

I pulled up to retrieve Dave right at ten. The bank was five miles away, and it was a chance to get to know our tour manager. Dave is the epitome of multi-tasking. He’ll be talking to you about how he’s trying to secure a bus parking spot outside of a venue in Chicago, get interrupted with a phone call about room reservations in Philadelphia, make another phone call to his assistant to arrange some flights, and finish his story on Chicago without missing a beat. As I’ve mentioned, Dave is a professional at his job. He’s seen and moved beyond all the temptations that can lead to a tour worker’s demise. Work takes precedence over all – there’s time for drinking, joking, partying, when the job is done, except for Dave, the beacon for all this insanity, the job is never done. If they appointed me as tour manager, the bus would be in Mexico, upside down and on fire by the third day. » Read the rest of this entry «