Atlanta
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.
Dave played it cool as I careened off the occasional curb. I was already planning how I would fit all the other things I had to do into my day. There was still a UPS shipment, and a trip to a specialty camera store with Charlie and our lead video person Greg, and stops at Staples, Home Depot, Best Buy, etc.
Dave came out of the bank 20 minutes later, frustrated with how long it took. As he vented, he reached out the passenger window to reposition the sideview mirror after I knocked it against a pillar driving the wrong way through the ATM drive-thru to avoid having to do a u-turn. I dropped Dave at the hotel. The rest of the afternoon was spent frantically driving around the city, jogging through stores scooping supplies from the shelves, loading up boxes of swag into the van, and bringing it all back to the bus.
When I finally hopped up onto the grassy shoulder near the bus before show time, Jeff was already busy staging everything in the hotel parking lot for a trial run before the show that night. Jaimee, Ben, Jace and I all went through what each of us would be doing. Jaimee was on merchandise. Ben would handle the ticketing and wristband sign in. Jace would fill in wherever needed, and I would drive the bus driver, Jerry, back to the hotel before the movie started, get dinner, help out with the post show and then pick Jerry up again when the show was done.
The bus pulled up to the venue around 4:00pm. I was waiting for them there in the van. Jeff and Dave hopped out to do the walk through. Meanwhile, I parked the van at a back door and started lugging the boxes of swag into the theater with Jace. It didn’t help that it was a hundred degrees outside, or that I hadn’t eaten since the night before. When everything was set up as best we could, I went and sat down in the bus to relax. A minute later, Jeff came on the bus.
“We need ice for the booze,” he said, pointing to the large built in cooler underneath the big screen TV.
“No problem. I’ll get it when I take Jerry back.”
“Jerry can go back now.”
“Cool,” I said slowly rising to my feet.
Tucker was sitting across typing at his computer. He raised an eye for a second. “What are you waiting for you dumb shit? Fucking move.”
I hurried off the bus and found Jerry. The drive back was a bitch because it was peak rush hour. What took ten minutes to get there was now going to take at least twenty five minutes each way. This was something I’d have to get used to because every fucking drive back with Jerry, in every fucking city – including all the busy as shit big cities in the NE – would occur during rush hour.
By the time I was heading back, it was close to 6:30. Showtime was at 7:05, and I had to have dinner on the bus for 7:10. And I hadn’t gotten the ice. Dave called me when I was close to ask my ETA.
I held the phone to my ear while swerving through traffic. “I’m about five minutes away. Do I have time to grab the ice?”
“No. Just get back here. We can get ice later.”
I considered going back, but I knew that beer was the oil that lubricated our tour’s engine, and the last thing I needed was to have a warm beer bottle smashed over my head. I drove to the gas station up the road, got four bags of ice, and jumped back in the van. The only problem was the gas station was located on the corner of a busy intersection, and after waiting through a series of lights, the traffic flow never stopped in both directions to allow me to turn left towards the theater. Rather than turn right, and waste time finding a place to turn around, I waited for oncoming traffic to stop. With a steady flow of cars going in the direction I was heading, I gunned the van down the wrong side of the street, until I cut in front of the first vehicle to an orchestra of blaring horns.
The cold beer helped the general atmosphere on the bus. I was able to get everybody their food without incident. Inside the theater the crowd was loving the movie – laughing right on cue. The theaters that served booze really helped amp up the atmosphere.
Life is always improved with the addition of booze:
11 crew members on a bus + booze = 11 happy crew members
Laughing audience at a comedy movie + booze = Uproarious laughing and cheering audience at a comedy movie
Friday afternoon at work + booze = Air guitar solo to Freebird at desk
Pregnant woman + booze = Superbaby
Works every time.
After the show, we handed out the free shirts. There was talk about attending an after party, but the next day we had a drive to Athens and back for a show. We decided to return to the hotel and keep it low key. We bought a few cases, and some girls followed Tucker back. He disappeared with one. The rest stuck around, one of whom was adamant on repeatedly stating her tits were real.
All things considered, our first full show was a success. The fans left happy. The crew clicked and came through when it mattered. It wasn’t perfect, but we were well on our way. As we sat in the room, giving each other shit, drinking and discussing the tour, it was clear that it takes a certain kind of person to put life on hold for five weeks to travel across the country. It’s hard to sum up the collection of characters, but I can definitely think of a word that doesn’t describe anyone: “normal.”
I grabbed a bunch more beers for everyone from the fridge and sat down on the couch. While talking to Charlie and Ben, a girl interrupted, “Do you guys think my boobs look real?”
“They look pretty fake to me.”
“HEY! They’re totally real, I swear.”
“Hmmmm, I don’t know. I think you’ve had some work done.”
“Shut up. I did not! Here, you guys feel them if you don’t believe me. Seriously, go ahead and grab them. You’ll see.”
So glad to see you writing again. Fuck anyone who says you’re long-winded, keep them coming and be yourself. I love reading every word, and with the TMMB gone, this is my new favorite site!
Griffin: It is a shame about the TMMB/RMMB, but Tucker’s got a ton of other things to concentrate on.
Hopefully we’ll see you over at http://attentioncrash.net/forum/ which will be more artistically focused. In the meantime, I’ll be sure to keep writing. The first posts are tough because I want to give a feel for the day-to-day, but once I’ve established the general routine, I’ll focus on the more interesting things that happened. The tour gets better as the crew gets to know one another, and the crazy factor increases.
It’s good to see another perspective on the tour. I’m looking forward to your future posts, preferably with some of your artwork in them.
Griffin: Thanks Jeff. There are definitely moments on the tour that would be better summed up in MSPaint. I’ll work at least one drawing in at some point.
keep it coming. consistently good posts so far, i wish i could constructively criticize, but for the story you’re telling, the format you write in seems perfect. i’d always like longer posts, but that’s of course extremely subjective.
Griffin: Glad you like it. If you’ve ever got any kind of criticism, feel free to toss it my way. I will always appreciate the help.
I think this is your best piece so far. Is your tour manager still alive?
Griffin: Dave is still very alive to the best of my knowledge. Although my driving was the least of his worries. These early days was when we were still being “polite” and were concerned what others might think about us. His skills really came in handy down the line when hangovers had compounded and we’d started mainlining redbull.
Very funny. I look forward to reading about those stories. I know based on my experience that after week 4, we all lost our damn minds. And the hangovers….yeah. Try being a make-up artist and inhaling vodka fumes coming out of their pores for 6 weeks. Keep up the writing. I’ve been really enjoying your style.
Griffin: I was just reading Jeffrey Stepakoff’s Billion Dollar Kiss on the weekend, and he says one of the most important things he learned in showbiz is that the make-up/hair stylists know everything that goes on. What tour did you work on? And more importantly, send me all the best gossip.
have you got a personal e-mail add, people can contact you on?
Griffin: Yup, it’s under the “about” link. griffin.chris@gmail.com. Just like Family Guy — you can’t fuck it up.
It was for a TV show that did some traveling. Really great people – no gossip than just a lot of hooking up with one another, and I’m sure you know, the “stars” don’t wake up looking the way they appear on stage. It was many hours of hair and make-up. I wish more women would realize this although DOVE foundation has been doing a great job of conveying this to teens. How about you…any hookups w/ the actresses/actors?
Griffin: Sounds like a pretty cool experience. You should be the one writing a blog. And, I’ve heard that hair and make-up for movies/tv is really an art form in itself. As for hookups on tour, there was a ton of that. Thankfully none of it was between crew members.
Griffin,
you are an excellent writer. Keep posting, your perspective on things is very refreshing.
A side question I wanted to ask, kind of lame, but did any of you feel the girls tits? And also out of curiosity, were there really loads of attractive women, with huge tits, at every stop wanting to mess around with you guys?
I ask because I really am beginning to notice how fast a ‘fame’ image gets a girl, hot or not, really horny.
Griffin: Thanks for the kind words. And yes, the realness of that girl’s breasts were confirmed. I wouldn’t say there were loads of attractive women that wanted to mess around with us as much as they wanted to mess around with Tucker. But you are right in your assessment of “fame.” Although, nobody on the tour besides Tucker and Bill Dawes had even an ounce of fame, the girls did treat us differently when we were wearing the All Access pass around or necks as opposed to when we weren’t. I hope to explore this phenomenon in future entries. I think there are several factors that contribute to this strange dynamic — hopefully I can touch on some of them.
Naa. I’ll leave the writing to you. You mean a stud like you couldn’t woo the likes of the gorgeous Keri Lynn Pratt?
Griffin: Keri Lynn Pratt was much too busy fending off Hollywood hotshots to have time to worry about a lowly, rugged, grunt like me.
This blog rules!
Wow, Nabokov, it even has correct punctuation.
Chriiii-iiiis, your boyfriend’s here!
Griffin: Go check the comment he left on the Enter Tucker entry. Weeeeird.
I also meant to ask when you’re going to post about the orgy involving the 3 crew members, drugstore clerk, gas jockey, stewardess (there’s alway a stewardess – sluts), congressman’s wife, box of toys and bondage gear, and the pony.
Your fans are waiting………
Griffin: Patience. And it was a miniature horse, not a pony.
Wow, I guess I was wrong, Griffin, you do have some fans. I didn’t think it would be possible for someone to be even more pathetic than you are, but Queer-Bee pulled it off.
And I noticed you changed your punctuation. Never thought you’d compromise something you did based on me. Surely you don’t take me that seriously.
Griffin: Oh Ballsack with your continued help you will make me famous some day. As long as you keep losing your shit and freaking out it will provide me with an endless source of material. Don’t ever change you raging neanderthal lesbian.
Hey Ballsack….you have to admit, Griffin has you by your “balls” because you are here, reading his material and are provoked to comment on it, aka. interested in what he has to say–all of free will.
Dear Jennifer,
Like I read his boring, inane shit….I saw one sentence that didn’t have proper punctuation and felt compelled to point it out. I figure someone who prides themself on being so superior to me should, at the very least, be able to properly punctuate a FUCKING 8 WORD SENTENCE….I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Jesus Christ, third graders can point out the nouns, verbs and adjectives in “The yellow dog jumped over the fence and ran into the street” and this fool can’t properly use a comma in the first GOD DAMN WORD!
Am I on here because I’m interested in what he has to say? Yes, absolutely I am….and here’s why. Because this boner went out of his way to, not only take the time to get completely engulfed in what I say about him, but create an entire script, draw an entire 12 cell cartoon, and de-rail entire threads with his sole mission of making me look ridiculous.
As you can see, (if you have a fucking brain in your head, anyway) I can accomplish the same thing in a 2 minute post pointing out the painfully obvious as opposed to his spending a night with MS Paint and jacking off to the the day he picked up a fucking lying, full-of-shit, fact denying, out of touch K-list internet hack at the airport.
This takes me 2 minutes. I spend more time in the shower picking the wadded toilet paper out of my asshole hairs than I do making this Canucker look like a fuckin’ idiot.
Keep in mind, I’m not the one who has to draw an entire Funky Winkerbean strip to get his point across.
Griffin: Ballsack, this is brilliant. It’s like you’re in a perpetual state of losing your mind. I have nothing to add to your comment. It encapsulates your existence to perfection. Well done.
I spend more time in the shower picking the wadded toilet paper out of my asshole hairs than I do making this Canucker look like a fuckin’ genius.
For some reason I believe you. Just please don’t tell us what the hell you’re doing in the washroom that leaves balls of wadded toilet paper sticking to you from the day before.
Wow, I guess I was wrong, Griffin, you do have some fans. I didn’t think it would be possible for someone to be even more pathetic than you are, but Queer-Bee pulled it off.
Oh Ballsuck3.0, you are so adorable when you’re a ranting, stalking loon! Do you want to hug it out?
P.S. It’s Qeer-Bee, not Queer-Bee. Please show enough respect to bastardize my name correctly. It’s the little things that hurt.
I don’t know why but the last 2 stories really PISSED ME OFF. Why the fuck do you let Tucker talk to you like that? I don’t give a fuck how many tall tales he has about fucking midgets and paraplegics. You’re way better than that. It’s this type of behavior from people like you that make this massively dickish tyrant think he’s special. I’m with Ballsack on this one. I wish you would stand up for yourself and tell Tuckbitch to fuck off. I guess it’s too late for that but god dammit!!!! That shit really bugs me.
Griffin:
Ha, yeah, it really wasn’t that bad. It’s not like Tucker zeroed in on me, he’s like that to most everybody. The beginning stages wasn’t the time for fighting back. We had a looong 6 weeks ahead of us.