Almost Almost Famous...

Again, I apologize for the lack of recent updates, but things have been a little crazy in my world the past few weeks. However, now I am on a flight from Denver to Tampa, so I will work until my computer dies to blog about the last 8 or so shows.

Anaheim’s House of Blues happens to sit right in the middle of downtown Disneyland. Thus, bus security is about as tight as border patrol. Well border patrol on the 8 East coming into California. Nonetheless, we had to check Sergo (the bus) in with a security guard well into his 8th decade of life.

This was the band’s first HOB experience, and say what you will about promoters, this group took care of us. They even had chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies fresh from the oven for our enjoyment. After counting in merch with the venue and ensuring that Casey had everything he needed to perform an excellent sound check, I wandered downstairs and met up with Brent (aka. Big B). B had gone to great lengths to avoid LA traffic, and thusly ended up at the venue bar about an hour and a half before I was going to be ready to hang out. So, I sat down and had a beer with my compatriot and the runner up to 2005’s American Gladiators of the Knolls competition. We bantered for a while, and it felt great to catch up and make hi-larious Almost Famous references.

I also got the pleasure of meeting up with two fellow What’s the Download alumni, Joy and Bahareh. We spent some time chatting before the music started. When the Bots finally got on stage, we encountered a few sound problems (who knew the batteries in the wireless mic would crap out?) and a few other problems (who knew a girl would sneak onstage and hand Jamie a CD of “beats for peace”). All in all the show went well though, and I got a chance to hang out with some long lost friends.

AND! I didn’t have to sell merch!

As we go along through these shows, merch is rapidly becoming the bane of my existence. This group of musicians happens to have a group of fans that are more than willing to shell out dollars and dollars hand over fist to get anything wearable that bears the Bots’ name. My time during the shows is largely telling patrons that we do in fact have men’s and women’s sizes, and that I cannot guarantee that the band will be coming out to sign anything. This is not really a problem or an inconvenience, but the counting, ordering, and general tracking of shirts is not necessarily something I dreamt of doing. I will be thrilled when we can bring someone along whose job it will be to cover this portion of the tour (ahem…Skram?). Until then, I will just be a friendly face at the table with all the information about the band.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Above: Roommate (with a capital RRRRRRRRR) Leia and me as we sweat it out in Tempe.


I apologize for my lack of updates, but for about two weeks, I have been adjusting to life on the road again. In reality this means that after shows when I had on my patented to do lists to blog before going to bed, I have just put it off and off and off in favor of getting more sleep.

Fear not though. I will be playing catch up for the next few days, and you, my coveted audience, shall receive plenty of information about the best burritos in San Diego, crepes and merch sales in San Francisco, the terrible existence that is life in Reno, a banana phone date with Doomtree in Seattle, some beer in Boise with some other hip-hoppers, disasters in Salt Lake City, Mile High Music Fest in all its glory, and a sweaty night in Dallas.

I will send e-mails out as they get published.

A blog about POG

A little blog about POG

When we last met, I was comfortably relaxing in a hotel in Tempe where the temperatures reached a “mild” 110. I am now comfortably relaxing in another hotel, but this one’s in Anaheim, which may lead you to believe that my work is all sitting around in a double bed with white sheets while watching whatever terrible movie is on HBO.

If only.

But to be fair, the momentous amounts of work that go into this job are all ones that are directly suited to my personality. My superhuman organizational skills have faired very well thus far into the tour (although we are only a few shows in), and I have managed every situation save one very well. That one instance involved my lack of patience with the front desk of the very hotel from which I am writing to you all.

Onto the stories.

The venue in Tempe was a step up from the tiny bar and grill we got stuck playing at in Albuquerque. It was a fairly standard grungy and dirty club with a grungy and dirty green room with grungy and dirty couches. After having a meeting and raiding the hospitality, the band took off for dinner, and I resumed my faithful place behind the merch table, and who doesn’t walk up but Roommate herself, Leia. (Kidding, I had put her on the guest list).

Leia and I spent the better part of two opening acts catching up with each other and spreading some gossip about college classmates and what not. I am so glad that I got to see her, and in talking to Leia I realized something so great about being on tour. As a rather social person, I tend to have many different groups of friends from high school, college, running, music, and everything else I do. And these people—while centered in Denver—have spread themselves around the country. While on tour, I get a single serving of time spent with these loved ones, and while not quite satisfying, it’s more direct contact than I would normally get.

All in all the show went well, and we sold more merch than I could imagine we would. That leads to a whole other discussion about the trials of life on the road. (Merch is rapidly becoming the bane of my existence). The only problem we had was with security since two security guards watching the stage watched someone from the audience steal Stephen’s hat off the stage. I finagled an amenable return from the venue, and all was okey dokey.

After the show we showered, ate, and then hopped onto Sergo and putted our way into Southern California. Yesterday we got food at CoCo’s across the street from the hotel and experienced the worst service in the history of the restaurant industry. Following an afternoon of work, Jamie, Mackenzie, and I drove off in the Nitro (our rental car) to have dinner with Sarah, a producer on the “Rise” video. We ate at Magnolia then got Pinkberry—the be all and end all of frozen yogurt hands down.



Afterwards we walked to the Dresden Room (famous for its appearance in the movie Swingers) for a taste of famed lounge act Marty & Elaine. However, Jamie forgot his license and credit cards in Denver and the security guy would not let him in—even though Jamie exceeds the legal age for entry by almost a decade.

We ended up sneaking in the back, but while having a drink, Jamie had to duck into a bathroom stall when the security guy spotted him. For such a small dive bar, they had quite the sting operation going on. We ended up leaving fairly early and driving back to the hotel.

This morning at breakfast, I realized that this hotel made up for the poor service at the front desk. While scanning the choices of juice varieties in the buffet, I noticed they wanted to make me feel at home in Southern California. There it was. Right in between orange and apple sat POG. Passion-orange-guava to be more specific. After four years at the caf and hundreds upon hundreds of glasses of this magical juice, I have had juice withdrawals of the worst kind over the last year. And you thought quitting drugs was hard.

I filled my goblet (water goblet) with POG and blissfully enjoyed the rest of my meal. Until I meet you again POG, I will always remember you fondly.

You never were that famous to me...

Hello out there in the world of my blog readers…

And welcome to my best means of keeping you all up to date on my adventures and debacles as I make my way around the country and the world with that silly band I hold so dearly. It’s my blog…or Floblog if you will.

I have recovered a bit now from the sleep deprived past few days. On Sunday and Monday, the band was busy shooting the music video for their new single, “Rise,” the closing track of their album. I hung around for the filming at the Gothic on Sunday, and we loaded all of the sound equipment onto the bus (whose name is Sergo). On Monday, I spent a few hours finishing things up at the lab, and then I came home to put together the final preparations before departure.

My dad came by my house at 3:45 in the morning (following a sleepless binge) and we loaded up all of my gear and office supplies in order to meet the band at the infamous Save-a-lot parking lot. An hour later, everyone had gathered in the parking lot looking a bit exhausted, a bit relieved, and a bit confused. We managed to squeeze everything into the bus, and as we got on the road we all retreated to bunks for some quality time with our pillows and blankets.

Upon arrival in Albuquerque, the group split up and half showered while the rest of us took a trip to the most fabulous nearly-24-hr restaurant named the Frontier. Jesse purchased three burritos, 12 tortillas, and the rest of the food they served in the joint (except anything containing cheese).

Following the delicious meal, we re-grouped and headed to the venue for load-in, sound check and all that business. This show was pretty darn early (doors opened at 6:30), so we didn’t have a heck of a lot of time. The venue we were playing at is called Ralli’s, and only had a capacity of 240. No wonder the show sold out so quickly. The sound system was pretty terrible too. What a place for our new sound guy, Casey, to prove his chops.

Come showtime, the crowd was pretty calm and didn’t exhibit much energy. But, as they usually do, the Bots did their best to blow everyone’s minds with awesome face-melting rock. The reception at the end was fantastic, and I had to constantly divert the crowds seeking autographs and pictures away from the merch table.

We managed to successfully pack everything back up into the bus and went back to the Frontier for some more good eats. Andy, Jesse, and Stephen took off with a friend of Andy’s while I loaded up the merch. I wanted to go with them, but I needed to get hete merch back into the bus. After loading things up, I wanted to meet up with them for food, but did not (as per John and Simone’s warnings) feel comfortable walking around Albuquerque alone. So Jamie volunteered to walk with me.

Little did I remember just how far away the Frontier was from the venue. I was not also made aware that the other three got a ride to the restaurant. So Jamie and I walked about 3 miles to the Frontier where I subsequently bought a burrito, a grilled cheese, a cinnamon roll, and 12 handmade tortillas. Although the walk was long, Jamie and I had a fantastic discussion about what ways we have had to adapt our lifestyles and relationships to life on the road, which made me feel a whole lot better about being in a different city every night.

After food and showers, we took off for Tempe, and I finished up some work before finally crashing. All in all, I realize this is only day 2 of 46 for this tour, but I feel infinitely more comfortable with my position than I did last time. I also feel very grateful that I have the opportunity to work with such fantastic artists and people.

I will be sending out e-mails to all of you every time I update my Floblog, but if for any reason you don’t need any more clutter in your inbox, just let me know.

p.s. posted below is the video filmed on Sunday of an improvised “Famous Walker” by Andy about Jesse.

Super Duper Tuesday...there's no crying in politics

I've talked to two friends in the past few weeks who are registered Democrats (in different states mind you) who mentioned that they will be voting for Billary, I mean, Hillary today. They both alluded vaguely to the notion that one reason they are leaning that way is because they are feminists.

On both occasions, I asked them why, oh why, (if they were voting for feminist reasons) that they would choose someone who now uses water works as a new tool for capturing votes? Doesn't that use tactics true feminists would abhor? What real feminist would say, "Yeah, I'll cry. That'll prove I'm a woman."

Anyway, Lisa passed this article along to me, and it summed up my thoughts pretty well, though it could have gone further.

Like Lisa said, "I don't want my president crying to get sympathy from a foreign diplomat. Politics isn't like getting out of a speeding ticket."

Let's go Obama!

I know this song...wait...different song

Just noticed this morning while listening to my new playlist "Livin' Life Like It's Shark Week" that Elvis Costello got ripped off by another terrible artist.

Listen to the intros...

Good

vs.

Abysmal



Just for clarification, the latter song appears on a mixed CD given to me by friends in HS, and the former is the one on the playlist. Result? My credibility is slipping.

It sits on my lap...my desktop didn't do that

I recently decided to take the financial plunge and get a new computer. The ol' Dell desktop was a fantastic companion throughout college, but it was about time that I upgraded, particularly because I have many, many videos that need to be edited, pictures to organize, and a life of events to put into a synced up calendar (because we all know just how busy I am).

After about an hour in the Apple store with Andy and Annie, I walked--nay strutted-- out of the Apple store with my most recent display of technological materialism. Thus, with this new convenient computer, I have made a few resolutions:

1) Keep my life organized with a complete address book and calendar. I never kept up with Outlook like I promised Booger I would, so this is my chance to redeem myself.
2) Edit all the videos from my camera (JJRO debauchery from the summer of '03 included).
3) Consistently blog about musical fancies and other assorted opinions

With that said, I present you with some PhotoBooth fun had tonight while spending some much needed time with my favorite person in the entire world.