(I asked Josh Damigo to write some tour diaries while he explores the midwest. This is the first of his posts.- rosemary)
Played a show last night at Humphrey's side stage. I am not exaggerating when I say that about 100 50+ year olds got DOWN to Rob Deez and my tunes. Had a great time, rapped about the normal stuff during Unexpected Subject. (I believe it was Smelly Feet, Transvestites, and Chocolate Bon Bons.)
Left the venue feeling pretty high. I had a lot on my mind though. It was midnight; I was leaving for Chicago at 4:00, and hadn't packed yet. I got a phone call from the club. Apparently I left my guitar... fml...
I packed, fell asleep, woke up, and threw all my stuff in the car. (Feeling good... no FML here!) Got to PB to pick up Kitty, my tour manager, and we were ahead of time by about 10 minutes.
This is where The Music Gods decided to test my commitment to them. (Click 'keep on reading' for more)
All of the sudden the dude's car in front of me stalls. We waited a good 5 minutes, because the car in front of us just started letting a group of peeps out. This followed by absolute stupidity by every driver in every car at the 2nd terminal of the San Diego International Airport. There were no rules. It was like Tijuana during a Cinco de Mayo festival and this anarchy on basic driving skills started a light aggravation for me.
We jump out of the car, grab all the gear, and go to check in. No clear lines anywhere. Just large "flubbery" groups of people all yelling at different workers for instructions. We go to the kiosk, watch rude girl #1 yell at her worker. And get pushed to the counter. At the counter we find out that we were not supposed to have been there yet, and the "nice" man behind the counter asked who had sent us so he could fire her. (BTW... this is all North West Airlines... which is now owned by Delta... For some reason they decided to take credit for this all day in every airport...) We finish checking in and I pay for the bags... which is BS... cause why can't you take bags on for free??? Really??? And we go towards the gigantic line of people standing waiting to be stared at by the sea of Blue shirted "safety" line leaders who probably make minimum wage, and yet are in charge of my safety on a plane. I find that they mostly stand there and yell stuff at you.
We waited in line for over 40 minutes. We watched the "First class" passengers walk to a shorter line... (I really hope terrorists don't buy "First Class" tickets... cause they'd probably have their screening process catered.) Eventually a lady in some weird accent would tell everyone that if their flight left at 6:15, 6:20, or 6:25 they could go to the "First Class" line. We looked at our tickets... and were at 6:30.... so apparently we had to wait in line. 15 minutes later we were allowed to check in. By the time we got through security, it was 6:26 (Exactly) and we were greeted by the attendant closing the giant door. He informed us that we would have to wait for the next flight.
I didn't say what I was thinking, but I'll tell you... since you've read this far...
"That's my guitar... they are loading my guitar on to the plane... why can't they put me on?" He was nice, but stupid. Because of this, the entire day was ruined... sort of like that Seinfeld episode where their whole lives are different because of 5 minutes.
We got our own "first class" seats 2 hours later on the next flight to Detroit. We had hoped we could still make it to Milwaukee, and find our luggage, then hit the Amtrak and get to Chicago before the Cubs game.
I read Traa Daniel’s (P.O.D.’s bass player) new book “PACK IT IN: KILL OR BE KILLED IN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY” on the ride, and despite the incredible amount of punctuation and grammatical errors, it was absolutely wonderful. He writes very similar to the way I do, and I am now going to require everyone I work with to read it.
We arrived at Detroit, and walked to the station to see if we could bypass Milwaukee, and have our baggage sent to us... (BTW... I was freaking out about my luggage sitting in an airport without me...) They said, "NO" and told us to go to terminal 18. (Which was the wrong terminal)
There's something about the employees at the Detroit Airport. They just don't give an "ef" about you. They just need the paycheck. 3 different employees doused us in "haterade", and we went to the pub to have lunch.
Met a lovely couple there from Lake Forest. Exchanged stories, and contact info since he was a lyricist, and his girlfriend was nice, and he said he'd come to a show when he was in LA. (I can always use more draw in LA)
Got back to our terminal after a FANTASTIC chicken Caesar salad... They really know how to cook at the Detroit airport... it was amazing... in fact the dude sitting next to me asked me what I was eating since I had scraped my plate clean.... I told him it was stress induced.
At the terminal, we were informed that there was bad weather and our flight was delayed for another hour. (There goes the Cubs game...) fml... Then this weird Middle Eastern kid started trying to enter the conversation with us under his breath in broken English. It would have been cool if he was trying to learn English by talking to us, but he just kept giggling and it was just odd...
Got called to the front desk where they told me they wanted to "upgrade my seat". I said, "Sure, as long as it's still on this plane.... Cause I don't care if you give me first class on the next plane or even let me fly it... I’m not getting off this plane." Homeboy says I would stay on this flight, and get a window seat.
Little did I know that I would be sitting in front of a competitive drum team from Miami. The 15 year old I sat next to looked EXACTLY like Big Papi, and while it was awesome to talk to him with his rough Dominican accent, I could not help but wonder why this was an upgrade. Especially when the baby behind me pooped during takeoff and wasn't changed for a good 20 minutes. (Safety first!!!)
Well, this led to that, and I am now sitting at the airport waiting for our ride, getting picture mail from our "Friend" who is at the Cubs game. There's a couple kids playing football in the food court, and this dude named "Michael Robinson" who lost his blackberry hasn't claimed it for over a half hour... but this dude REALLY believes he'll be coming soon, because he keeps reminding him that it's there...
Long story short, today sucked. But in the back of my mind, I know that this is just my first Midwest tour, and a wicked funny story... I'm just not in the mood to laugh yet. I'll have the first show at Schubba's tomorrow night with my good friends Todd Carey, and Billy Bushwalla.
Thanks for reading. This made the hour long wait for the ride feel a lot better. LOVE SDDIALED IN! I'll write tomorrow and let you know how everything goes.
P.S. The ladies at baggage claim in Milwaukee deserve the NICEST people in America award. The sweetest ladies I've ever met, who giggled like little girls when I autographed CD's for them for having my bags waiting for me when I got the airport. It was the only time that I actually felt like a semi-celebrity today. I HEART YOU JAN AND COLEEN!!!!