Red Stripe Beer | 08/28/04
It's beer. Hooray beer.
The day started off great and, well, it was just an overall great day. Jamie got us some Dunkin' Donuts, which is never EVER a bad thing. We played some Euchre online and won most of the games (not that it's particularly difficult when your partner is in the same room and you can confer on what to call). At 3pm we met for a rehearsal/packing session and aside from the fact I couldn't find the damn gig book, everything else ran relatively smoothly. Without Chris, the chemistry was still a little weird in rehearsal and we never really found that "often sought, rarely achieved" (-Matt Flynn) groove but all the notes were there, which was the first concern. It seemed to take forever to load up and to get there but we made it with ample time. We played the first set well and the first break of Red Strip and delectable pita chips ensured we'd rock from that point on. And we did. The middle set was even better and after the second break of shrimp, chicken and fruit salad, we were seriously ready to kick some ass. And we did. The "often sought, rarely achieved" groove was there the last chunk big time. For me personally, everything came together when we played Magma. I don't think I could have imagined it sounding much better than it did. Both Jeff and Jamie ripped some awesome solos throughout the evening while Matt and I just kicked it back and let things happen. Michael was playing nice and loud the whole night, which, on triple-guitar, is like "aaaagh!" right in your face. God, it was great. Jara, the unsung member, was rocking as well but her parts aren't exactly conducive to getting as much glory as the rest of us. By the time we were getting ready to close with Car Wreck and Yumbambe, we were all in the energy-zone and just destroying the pieces (in a good way, much like how the word "bad" came to mean "good" a few decades ago). We also received the two F's for a gig: freed food and fifty bucks. We haven't had to talk about that in ages because, well, we've become somewhat accustomed to making $300/hr but still. Matt also classified my four moods by four catch-sayings. 1) Man, that's the best. 2) Man, that's the worst. 3) That's great. 4) Man, now I'm pissed. He didn't remember the fourth one until about an hour after the gig but he called to remind me. Also thrown in was the more explitive-ladden, "this is b---s----, motherf-----" complete with requisite hand-thrusting.
After the gig Jamie and I got some CFA and some booze and met up with Jara and Michael back at my house. Within about an hour and a half Michael had switched into his drunken-laugh, Jara was passed out on the couch and Jamie had to run upstairs to, uh, empty out. Since I had been drinking since mid-gig I was not be able to a) re-achieve a buzz or b) get up to my undergrad years level of drinking a case in a night, stopping at 10.5. In honor of us all being old, we played a single drinking game and by 12:30am, we were all ready to sleep. So we did.