Party Animals Should Not Be Let Out Of Their Cages Until At Least 3:00
For the second day in a row, I was rudely awoken by Cher's Believe being played full blast over the jukebox at 10:15 in the morning. At the same time, some rowdy drunks were causing a ruckus, shouting "Whoo-hooo!" At the top of their lungs (think Blur's Song2). I felt like I was going to be solely responsible for a homicide. Placing the pillow over my head, I managed to sleep through the noise until 2:00 in the afternoon. As I discovered later, Arleen couldn't stand the noise, and drove the Suburban to a quiet field where she took a relaxing nap.
By 3:00, I was quite hungry and I found myself walking several blocks to Smitty's for some hearty grub. The same red-haired girl greeted me, remembered me from yesterday, and asked how our gig went the previous night (we had a pleasant conversation the previous day). When I get customer service like this, I want to stay in these towns a little longer, but my "job" prevents me from doing so.
I left the restaurant shortly after eating, and walked straight "home". I listened to a few of the bands' songs, and then went up to my hotel room to practice. It wasn't very long until Dave knocked on my door. While Dave was asking about my plans for the afternoon, a door across the hall opened, and a heavily impaired male decided to strike up a friendly conversation with us. Dave informed me later that he doesn't have the patience to talk with people that are clearly under the influence, so we promptly went downstairs to do some maintenance to the band equipment, in hopes of avoiding and ignoring the party animals.
The band then went out for a bite to eat, and we were playing our first set shortly thereafter. The "Silver Spur Saloon" wasn't as busy as the previous night, but we were playing very well. I think it's the best we had ever played. During one of the breaks, Dave mentioned to me how my timekeeping had improved from last night. In fact, he was talking about learning another half-dozen songs for next week, which would include Blue Öyster Cult's Don't Fear The Reaper, Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven and a few others. I would call this definitive proof that I am not holing them back.
The bar crowd was especially strange tonight. Patrons came and went, but rarely stayed for the full night. We began playing Rock music early on, and it seemed like the crowd wasn't into it tonight. We then changed our repertoire to reflect about 90% country music, and that got us a much better response from the crowd. The second-last set felt especially good to me, at which time I was very thirsty, so I grabbed a beer and sucked it back. I sat down at a table, and soon found one of the bar patrons (who called himself "Abe") sitting at my table and keeping me company. He seemed friendly enough. We made small talk for about 20 minutes until the time came for the band to play our final set of the night. That beer didn't take long to hit me, and then I felt very loose sitting at the drumkit.
The last set was a real killer. Half the bar was up dancing to our music, and we received two encores at the tail end of the show. By this time, my bladder was bursting, and I couldn't do anything about it until we were completely finished our show.
The band took a short break, at which time Dave paid me the ultimate compliment. He told me that if I kept playing as good as I did this night, that I would end up becoming a "monster drummer". Dave wasn't full of it either; he's played with dozens of drummers in his musical career. For him to tell me this in the 2 short weeks I've been playing with him is quite flattering. I told him that I take my music very seriously, and I have spent most of my spare time practicing the material. All he could say was to "keep up the good work". A compliment like this makes me think that maybe I do have the dedication, perseverance, and ability to make a career out of my drumming. I know ZanZee won't be around forever, and rubbing shoulders with other musicians will be a necessity if I want to make my dream a reality -- even though it's quite real already.
We are going to ship out of Yorkton in about four hours, so perhaps I should get some rest. We have seven hours of driving ahead of us, plus Dave and Arleen have family to visit on the way back home. Next week, we are headed to Neepawa, Manitoba, which is about a 10-12 hour drive away from Medicine Hat. Dave said he would like to leave sometime Wednesday evening. I hate traveling, but maybe driving at night might be a better alternative than driving during the day. It's cooler and you get better mileage, though it could be considered more dangerous.
I am greatly anticipating the adventures that await us next week.
By 3:00, I was quite hungry and I found myself walking several blocks to Smitty's for some hearty grub. The same red-haired girl greeted me, remembered me from yesterday, and asked how our gig went the previous night (we had a pleasant conversation the previous day). When I get customer service like this, I want to stay in these towns a little longer, but my "job" prevents me from doing so.
I left the restaurant shortly after eating, and walked straight "home". I listened to a few of the bands' songs, and then went up to my hotel room to practice. It wasn't very long until Dave knocked on my door. While Dave was asking about my plans for the afternoon, a door across the hall opened, and a heavily impaired male decided to strike up a friendly conversation with us. Dave informed me later that he doesn't have the patience to talk with people that are clearly under the influence, so we promptly went downstairs to do some maintenance to the band equipment, in hopes of avoiding and ignoring the party animals.
The band then went out for a bite to eat, and we were playing our first set shortly thereafter. The "Silver Spur Saloon" wasn't as busy as the previous night, but we were playing very well. I think it's the best we had ever played. During one of the breaks, Dave mentioned to me how my timekeeping had improved from last night. In fact, he was talking about learning another half-dozen songs for next week, which would include Blue Öyster Cult's Don't Fear The Reaper, Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven and a few others. I would call this definitive proof that I am not holing them back.
The bar crowd was especially strange tonight. Patrons came and went, but rarely stayed for the full night. We began playing Rock music early on, and it seemed like the crowd wasn't into it tonight. We then changed our repertoire to reflect about 90% country music, and that got us a much better response from the crowd. The second-last set felt especially good to me, at which time I was very thirsty, so I grabbed a beer and sucked it back. I sat down at a table, and soon found one of the bar patrons (who called himself "Abe") sitting at my table and keeping me company. He seemed friendly enough. We made small talk for about 20 minutes until the time came for the band to play our final set of the night. That beer didn't take long to hit me, and then I felt very loose sitting at the drumkit.
The last set was a real killer. Half the bar was up dancing to our music, and we received two encores at the tail end of the show. By this time, my bladder was bursting, and I couldn't do anything about it until we were completely finished our show.
The band took a short break, at which time Dave paid me the ultimate compliment. He told me that if I kept playing as good as I did this night, that I would end up becoming a "monster drummer". Dave wasn't full of it either; he's played with dozens of drummers in his musical career. For him to tell me this in the 2 short weeks I've been playing with him is quite flattering. I told him that I take my music very seriously, and I have spent most of my spare time practicing the material. All he could say was to "keep up the good work". A compliment like this makes me think that maybe I do have the dedication, perseverance, and ability to make a career out of my drumming. I know ZanZee won't be around forever, and rubbing shoulders with other musicians will be a necessity if I want to make my dream a reality -- even though it's quite real already.
We are going to ship out of Yorkton in about four hours, so perhaps I should get some rest. We have seven hours of driving ahead of us, plus Dave and Arleen have family to visit on the way back home. Next week, we are headed to Neepawa, Manitoba, which is about a 10-12 hour drive away from Medicine Hat. Dave said he would like to leave sometime Wednesday evening. I hate traveling, but maybe driving at night might be a better alternative than driving during the day. It's cooler and you get better mileage, though it could be considered more dangerous.
I am greatly anticipating the adventures that await us next week.
posted by MC at 01:05
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