Rockin' at the Royal
Happy Phantom Menace Day! It looks like I won't be seeing the new Star Wars film until sometime next week; the first three or four days are completely sold-out. Being a big Star Wars fan, I can't wait to see it. With five cinemas in town playing the show, I'm sure it won't be long until I have my chance.
The good old Royal Hotel. This is one of the scummiest bars in town, but you always end up having the best time there. The tables appear like they are as old as the bar itself (~100 years), which are covered with these ugly yellow tablecloths that resemble bath towels from your great aunt's closet. The bar is dilapidated, but if it were ever renovated, it just wouldn't be "the Royal", and all the atmosphere would be gone. [ed. Note: I hope to have photos of the Royal Hotel interior by May Long Weekend.]
This place has a lot of character -- and a lot of characters in it too. This was the Hell's Angels bar in town, but things have mellowed down, and if you have the gall to talk to any of the bar patrons, you would realize they all have hearts of gold.
Dave and I set up the bands' equipment in the afternoon. The assembly of our PA system is getting mundane, except that I almost had a rack of par-64 lights fall on top of my head. We caught it just in time before it injured either of us. Regardless, I saw my life flash before my eyes: All two seconds' worth.
I returned to the bar at 9:00, a full hour before we were to begin playing. I purchased a beer, and waited patiently. Dave and Arleen arrived shortly before 10:00, and so did my friend LC, who also happens to be making a career in music. He stayed to listen to the first set, and left shortly thereafter.
AF and SG showed up shortly thereafter. They are two females I worked with for a number of years. They showed their support, visited with me during my break, and left shortly before we were to play our third set of the night.
A few other people came and went, and we had a few dancers -- which was pleasing as there was only about 20 people in the bar. During this set I was surprised to find two other local drummers intently watching my drumming. Of course, when I noticed this, it happened to the time where I started screwing up. Poetic justice.
Our final set consisted of a couple Fleetwood Mac tunes, and we didn't play an encore. It wasn't such a big deal, the bar was dead, Arleen was ill, and she wanted to get out of the smoky bar as soon as possible. I finished what remained of my beer, and I went home.
The good old Royal Hotel. This is one of the scummiest bars in town, but you always end up having the best time there. The tables appear like they are as old as the bar itself (~100 years), which are covered with these ugly yellow tablecloths that resemble bath towels from your great aunt's closet. The bar is dilapidated, but if it were ever renovated, it just wouldn't be "the Royal", and all the atmosphere would be gone. [ed. Note: I hope to have photos of the Royal Hotel interior by May Long Weekend.]
This place has a lot of character -- and a lot of characters in it too. This was the Hell's Angels bar in town, but things have mellowed down, and if you have the gall to talk to any of the bar patrons, you would realize they all have hearts of gold.
Dave and I set up the bands' equipment in the afternoon. The assembly of our PA system is getting mundane, except that I almost had a rack of par-64 lights fall on top of my head. We caught it just in time before it injured either of us. Regardless, I saw my life flash before my eyes: All two seconds' worth.
I returned to the bar at 9:00, a full hour before we were to begin playing. I purchased a beer, and waited patiently. Dave and Arleen arrived shortly before 10:00, and so did my friend LC, who also happens to be making a career in music. He stayed to listen to the first set, and left shortly thereafter.
AF and SG showed up shortly thereafter. They are two females I worked with for a number of years. They showed their support, visited with me during my break, and left shortly before we were to play our third set of the night.
A few other people came and went, and we had a few dancers -- which was pleasing as there was only about 20 people in the bar. During this set I was surprised to find two other local drummers intently watching my drumming. Of course, when I noticed this, it happened to the time where I started screwing up. Poetic justice.
Our final set consisted of a couple Fleetwood Mac tunes, and we didn't play an encore. It wasn't such a big deal, the bar was dead, Arleen was ill, and she wanted to get out of the smoky bar as soon as possible. I finished what remained of my beer, and I went home.
posted by MC at 22:20
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home