BONUS CONTENT: The tale of the forgotten drum case
November 17, 2017
The blog has become sentimental.
Time to change that.
I’ve become wrapped up in fuzzy dreams and sweet language. Way too much legato. We need to shake this sucker up, so at the last truck stop, we did what touring rock bands do: Deni streaked through the fueling station and Sarah ate one square of dark chocolate.
Party = on.
Actually, that didn’t happen, but we did see three guys peeing on the side of the road on the way to Immeldorf, so the Silver Moose is rocking again. Shine on, you crazy diamonds. Let your freak flags fly.
And now, the untold story of the time the drummer forgot to unload the hardware case in Bergen, Netherlands.
Forgive me if my memory’s a bit foggy on this one, but it was 14 years ago, so I’m doing my best. When we arrived at the venue in Bergen, we found that we didn’t need all of our gear. The club had a sound system and all that fun stuff, so we unloaded what we needed as quickly as we could with the van half blocking one of those tiny Dutch streets. We intended to come back later to set up, so we left our stuff on the stage and drove away.
The idea was to leave the van at our billet and walk to the club, which was close by. It was much easier than navigating the streets and finding parking. It was also a nice day and a walk through those charming neighbourhoods sounded great to all of us … at least until we realized that our drummer, who shall remain nameless, forgot to unload his hardware case from the van. His massive, freaking 60 pound hernia-in-waiting full of cymbal stands and other bits.
Options: Drive the van over and unload the case or make the offending party carry it like his cross.
Option B was chosen, but God bless Deni Gauthier. He picked up one end of the case like Simon of Cyrene, who carried the cross of Jesus to Calvary. It reminds me now of that scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian where the merciful man helps the cross-bearer, who slips away, leaving his helper holding the cross and marching to his own doom ("This is not my cross!").
And so it came to pass that Deni and John carried the hardware case from billet to venue like a coffin, while a delighted Sarah snapped furiously away with the camera. A memory earned and a lesson learned.
The road, man. The road.