We left Minneapolis early that morning for the drive down to Moline. We knew it’d be another long one and there was a long sheet of storm that was going to be standing in our path. We’d be driving with it most of the day. It was pretty fucking miserable. Tufts and tufts of snow flew towards our windshield further covering the top of Gertie with fine, white powder, while her bottom half picked up blackened muck from the sides of the road. That combined with all the salt trucks furiously driving beside and in front of us, throwing their pellets down made for a pretty nasty cocktail. She needed a wash bad. We got to Moline right around nightfall and found out that the original venue, the Moline Club, decided that afternoon that they no longer wanted to do the show. The promoter, Alex, was able to secure a basement space for us to play in. This had never happened to us before and some of us in the van were feeling down about it. Personally, I thought it could be very cool and, in the end, more lucrative. We started driving towards the house and noticed that the neighborhood was pretty decent, really nice in fact, pretty suburban, and when we arrived at the address saw that it was no college kid’s house. The mother peeking through the blinds was a dead giveaway. We got out of the van and were greeted by the kid who lived there. A quick glance and it was apparent that the median age of most of the show-goers was about, oh, sixteen. We got a case of Coors and decided to have fun with it. Honestly, it was one of the better shows of the tour. It was dark and sweaty and a mosh pit started. It was like a mini-Warped Tour! This is the demographic to be playing to. I guess all those nu-Emo band have it right. They donated like crazy and bought shitloads of crap from us. We were worried since most of these kids obviously lived with their parents that we wouldn’t have a place to stay. Luckily Alex was able to secure a place with his friend Carl who lived in this bad ass converted hotel in Davenport. We went out with a few locals to a dive that boasted dollar-fifty beers and two dollar wells. We went back to Carl’s and got high and drank scotch. He took a really great picture of us. It’s currently our default on Facebook so check it out. That little shutterbug.
Next it was off to Kansas City, Missouri. By this point I admittedly was feeling a bit fatigued. The tour was coming to a close with only a few more dates left, and that night I really felt like I didn’t have it in me. We also found out that the next day a blizzard was going to tear through the state so expectations were low for the show. The Record Bar is a pretty nice place to play, though the locals will tell you that Lawrence is the city to have a show in. Either way, they had a beautiful 24 (y’know, Special Agent Jack Baur)pinball table and bands got half off food and drinks. I had a sandwich and a shot and the waiting game began. The first band decided to play at seven forty-five though they weren’t slotted to play until eight thirty. They were done by eight fifteen leaving us and the other band Bowinero (pronounced Bow n’ Arrow) scratching our heads. They split pretty quick and we were left to stall some. Bowinero were next and played a sort of Killers-y brand of rock, which wasn’t bad. It was only there fourth show, but they expected the turnout to be a little better. We had heard that a lot. We played around ten thirty to our friend Kackie and four drunk girls dancing. They were pretty hot and pretty good dancers so I didn’t mind watching. The rest of the crowd was packed into the back at their tables. I’ll tell you one thing I hate: A venue that is 80% tables and 20% floor space. What the fuck are you? Sort of a bar, sort of a restaurant, sort of a venue. At least move the tables at the front of the stage! I can’t stand playing to people sitting down. I feel like I’m the fucking entertainment at Medieval Times. Dinner and a show! Grab some grog and a giant leg of turkey! Jousting later! I got sort of drunk, but not drunk enough and Kackie and her boyfriend put us up. A Wal-Mart trip and a twelve hour power drive down to Austin were on the menu for the following day.
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