Before I start this blog I want to issue a little warning. I know most of you understand that I rarely, if ever, “pull punches” in regards to what I write. I consider myself an open book, literally. However, one of the events that transpired during my trip home could quite possibly soil the image you have of me, especially for those of you who might find me attractive. So, please consider yourself duly warned, and enjoy.
8 flights of horrible stairs
As I waited for the elevator, I recounted how embarrassed I was that I attempted to check into my hotel room at the “Gay and Lesbian Convention Registration Desk.” How was I so oblivious to my surroundings? Was it fatigue, or jet-lag, or just plain ignorance? The portly cross-dressed female that fielded my strange request for a room key politely pointed me in the right direction. And as I turned around to see a multitude of smiles beaming from these “spirited” individuals I hung my head in shame and headed to the actual lobby.
The hotel was packed, I mean PACKED. Hence why my initial trip up to my room took at least 20 minutes. The elevator was being bounced around to each floor as friends visited other friends to partake in a friendly welcome to this year’s convention festivities. Again, my trip back down to my car took almost half an hour, and as I sat packed in my metal cage, pressed up against the wall by meaty bodies, I swore that I would take the stairs once I got my other bags.
I struggled up the walkway from my car to the sliding glass doors. The wheels of my suitcase were sticking, my shoulders aching from carrying my guitar, and my eyes were now just little slits. By the time I got to the smooth marble floor I was already out of breath and drenched in a light spray of sweat. A large man festooned in sequined feathers on his cell phone would be the last little bit of motivation I needed to avoid that cursed elevator and walk my bags to my room.
It took a few moments to spot the small-unmarked stairwell door. I lugged my bags, twisting and turning, then sat for a moment staring off into the endless stream of concrete steps. “8th floor…. It had to be the 8th floor,” I said calmly to myself. I positioned myself as best as I could, and with a deep breath I placed my right foot up on the first step and bore my entire weight. Then the unthinkable happened.
In this delightful moment of strain, my body had decided to release itself. I sharted. For those who do not understand this word, it is a bodily function that works on the same principles as a nerf gun. An object, under duress and pressure, is forced out through an opening by a sudden burst of air. Though, in this case it was not a spongy ball meant for childhood fun, but rather my waste product.
Amazingly, my first reaction was not panic. It was more of a “you have got to be kidding me.” Though short lived, the profundity of it all had assuaged the horrible nature of the situation. But, Every step I took became a meticulous task. Every time I heard any slight noise, I prayed, literally prayed, that I would remain alone in my concrete tomb. By the time I reached the 4th floor my bags felt like they were feathers. My body had warranted the situation serious enough to release a nice healthy dose of adrenalin. I reached my room relatively quickly, and after fumbling the key around in the door I finally got in. The feeling of elation and relief is something I wont soon forget, and after a few minutes of clean up, a nap, and some food I was ready greet Tucson….
(oddly, this would not be the only spontaneous eruption that happened that evening. While sitting eating a late night taco with some friends, a fight broke out. It was a rumble style 6 vs 6. Luckily everyone was really wasted and from a distance it looked to be more like dancing. Thumpy dancing)
What can I say? It was awesome. No Accidents… Yuck Yuck. In retrospect it is amazing that we all made it across the country with our gear in working order. Everything went smoothly. The set was great. No real hiccups besides a pedal malfunction. All around good times.
Here are some pictures:
Woodie coming back to the stage
Hearing people singing our songs
Not having any logistic problems
Drinking heavily after the show
So, for the Tucson show we decided to release limited edition USB drives with 4 brand new songs on it. We had some left over so David put them up on the website. They are full of content, art, lyrics, pictures, yada yada. If you want one, I would recommend getting them now. Only ONE of the songs on the USB drive will be available on Itunes until the full album comes out (this could be months away). OOH SHIZZZ.
Check the homepage, or the last blog entry to find out how to get it:
So this goes without saying that our new single is ready and headed to Itunes. Should be a few weeks before it is posted. I will make sure to tell you all about it… oh trust me… I will tell you about it. Damn this is exciting.
Show This Friday!
So, as it happens normally, things kinda SNEAK UP ON YOU… Halloween felt like it came out of nowhere, and so did this show. Ha. This Friday (11-06-09) Lagoon will be at Copperfields (The Down Under Pub). It is a bar located right near Fenway in downtown Boston… let me clarify a couple things. There are TWO venues at Copperfields, we will be playing downstairs, the cover is 7 dollars, there will be 4 bands, we are going on about 10:45pm or so.
And here is another great poster by @davidtornado
Until next time…. Here is a cool picture I took on the drive to LA =P