Daddy would you like some sausage?
Three days off. In a row. That’s nearly unheard of in rock tour circles. Even though we were doing a TV show the previous day, I’m getting pretty bored. I get up, shower (hot water, YAY!) and make my way to the Dunkin for a few stage weights and a couple of cups of Dunkin mud. I had to get three because they were so small.
I looked for juice dude around the hotel but couldn’t find him. It was nearly noon, I had missed breakfast. Damn, I wanted my slab of bacon, omlette and Zucaritas (as Tony says, “They’re Grrrreat!”) Most of these dives, err I mean fine lodging establishments at least serve breakfast until noon, or so. In a civilized rock and roll eatery like Rae’s in Santa Monica, The Pantry in Downtown LA or my fav and world famous Duke’s, on the heart of the Strip, they serve great rock breakfasts all day long. I love it. Up here, just a short block down the hill from my house is Glo’s, just as good as those So Cal joints. It’s a bummer they closed Eileen’s and the Ernie room a few years back, but the Five Points is still kicking. Ask my buddy Fowler about the wings at the Five Points. Ask my buddy CK about the punk rock chicks at the Five Points. Got off track, we’ll cover that in another rant. There is also a 24 hr self serve laundry next to the joint, just in case you get to town and need some clean duds.
So I climb on the vomit comet we call our bus and take my usual seat. In the back with the rest of the roadies. It’s actually a pretty good ride but in a regular car or even passenger bus I have an inclination towards motion sickness. Bummer of an affliction for a touring dude. Dramamine, and lot’s of it. Even after 48 oz of Dunkin mud, a few Dramamine’s and that’s me sacked for the entire trip. Looking forward to as Carlos calls it, the “Holy Day Inn” in Queretaro. I was wonder if I should be expecting a manger, three wise men, some gifts or a virgin. Since we were on tour, there aren’t any virgins, mangers or wise men. If we were that wise, we wouldn’t be roadies. Hopefully there’ll be some gifts. Or at least a fully stocked mini bar. We’d gone through Queretaro on our previous travels. It looked like a nice town. Big US style mall and a fair amount of industry on the outskirts of town, including a big Nissan plant. That might explain what appeared to be an abundance of sushi places. We hit Queretaro sometime in the afternoon.
As the bus slows, about a mile from the mall, I’m not seeing a “Holy Day Inn”. We pull up in front of in Mexico what could be considered a pretty run down exterior. The sign says Real De Las Minas. It’s like a dingy La Quinta, but without the benefit of a Denny’s. We venture off the bus. The lobby doesn’t look too bad, big restaurant, small bar, though. There are even several small meeting rooms. One more small detail, the bus was leaving until day after tomarrow and we had to get everything off, gear, luggage, the works. Thanks for letting us know. I was still wondering what happened to the Holiday Inn. It seems that since we changed our travel plans they cancelled the Holiday Inn rooms and booked these. I was told that since we didn’t use the rooms all three nights, the hotel made them cancel the reservation and booked the rooms. What a bunch of horseshit. What happened was they cancelled our hundred dollar rooms in the good place and put us in the low budget place.
The pool area and courtyard look pretty good, poolside food and drink service, maybe it’s not that bad. Then I have to schlep up three flights, my 32 kilo Tumi five suiter, Brenthaven computer backpack and Tumi Eurpean travel satchel, or what the homophobic roadies call my “purse”. The key is an traditional key on a huge fob. The common area smells of a combination of pine cleaner and mildew. The carpets are old and worn. I get to my third floor room. The door barely locks. Reluctantly I open it. Wow, what a place. It’s clean, mostly, though worn and poorly appointed. At least there is a TV. But no remote. I call the desk. It seems that the remote required a 200 peso deposit. Even though the rooms and incidentals are secured on an Amex, they still want the cash for the remote. I briefly consider paying the 200 (twenty bucks) just to destroy the damn thing. I’d rather spend the 20 on booze. The mall looked good and was close, I headed for it.
The mall was good. It was new and had everything that a roadie could want. I went into the record store and looked at a copy of Made in Japan, the Deep Purple classic. Nearly 40 bucks. Yikes. I head to Burger King for a Whopper doble con queso. On the way back to the hotel I stop at a cheap liquor store and get some refreshments for the evening. We hang at the pool for a bit, they’re doing dinner, I go to my room, watch CNN International and doze off. I wake in time to catch the last call for food in the restaurant. I have enchiladas, rice and beans then head back to the room to start reading the new Al Franken book. I crash out and wake in the morning to go to the gig.
We are leaving a couple hours early. Need to do some shoppin’. Production office supplies and a few other things. We head to the Office Depot, which borders a Gigante. A Gigante is like a Target, Wal Mart and Fred Meyer all rolled into one. They also sponsor Michel Jourdain Jr’s Team Rahal Champ Car. We split into two groups, one for office supplies, the other for food. We get muffins, Captain Crunch with cups and spoons (for cereal in a cup) some leche and assorted treats. With that, the luggage tequila and the water, Cokes and cerveza on the bus I was set. The other guys strike out on some of the printer cartridges so we head to an Office Max on the way to the gig. They’ve got what we need and we head out.
We get to the gig by mid afternoon. It all looks pretty good except for the rear truss is about 20 feet upstage of where it needs to be. PA stuff looks pretty good, though. All new DIs that match, lots of spare quarter inch cables. Roberto and Arlo are busy checking and repairing mic cables. Seems I made an impression on them. They don’t want me cutting the ends off the cables. Everything is labeled and things are going well. They’re good guys, I’m digging them more and more. We’ve got a good vibe going. My PM4k is still on the gig, but the new FOH guy has a fairly well used Europa and I venture out front to make sure he’s familiar with it. He’s got the basic jist, but I run through a few things with him. At least it’s got the Schubert modded PSUs. We remark on what a huge waste of space most of the ergonomics of the desk are. The knobs are huge. As I head back to the stage, I see a cased SM24 sitting upstage. Hummm. Time to find our buddy Jorge.
He’s busy directing the moving of the upstage truss. “Hola Jorge, good afternoon”. I offer.
He comes over. “Hello David. As promised you have your same console. You owe me a steak dinner”.
“Well Jorge, the deal was that BOTH consoles and the FOH guy isn’t that happy with his. Tell you what, we’ll have a drink later and discuss it.”
“I had to spend seven thousand dollars, US out of my own pocket for the Yamaha. It’s a thousand a show.”
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. What’s the SM24 doing here?”
“The deal for the Soundcrafts was an all in one deal. He wouldn’t give me a break for just one, so I took them both so he wouldn’t rent the other when I was still paying for it.”
I’d heard it all now. This was wacky, even for Mexico. And Mexico isn’t that bad. I’ve had worse gigs and dealt with worse companies in the States or Europe. The deal was that during the first week of our run, there was a big Pavarotti show, and large government sponsored festival with six stages and some other gigs. We got the bottom of the barrel, most likely because Jorge was paying low buck. When the second week started, we got the same processing and stacks and racks, but new DIs, mic stands distro and snake. We were ready to tour. The rig was ready, labeled and the guys were primed. Something was still fishy about Jorge’s console deal. I offered to call SGI and see what we could do, but he said that SGI didn’t provide the consoles. I knew the 4ks were subbed, but something in his story just didn’t pan out. Didn’t matter though, I had my gear and guys and was ready to rock.
The show was good, nearly 5000 in attendance. Big aftershow. We were set to dine after the gig in a private restaurant. Since the bus wasn’t back until morning, we were to be shuttled to dinner in a group of vans. We ask where the restaurant is, the driver is told and we drive around for 15 mins, ending up back at the gig. That sucked, we got directions again, and circled the venue for another 10 mins or so. As we turned back into the parking lot, we happened on a van with the tour manager, Carlos our promoter rep driving, the star and a few band members. We stopped and tried to flag them down. Squint boy hopped out of our van and tried to stop them, they drove past. He then lunged at the van and slapped the side. They stopped, scared shitless. Carlos was so freaked, he was crying. I’ve never seen a promoter rep cry, and I was engaged to one for two years. She was a lot tougher than this motherfucker.
With Carlos crying, we find the restaurant, which incidently, was directly across the street from the gig. It was packed, nothing private about this. I didn’t want to go into this scene, particularly after what happened next. As out van ground to a halt, the side door opened and the tour manager and star started on a tirade on all in our van. Backup kids, one person in the van did something and now we were all getting our asses chewed. I was ready to launch back, but stopped. It hadn’t occured to them that they were being lied to and taken advantage of. The promoter was no saint. While his minion Carlos didn’t know any better, Fillipe did and used it to his advantage. I was pissed and ready to fly back right at that minute. The crew returns to the shit hole hotel and quietly retire to our rooms. We were just starting to get on a roll, too.
The bus call the next morning was awkward. I had breakfast with the star and tour manager, but the vibe in the party was a downer. I excused myself from the meal and tried to get some leche to go, for my cereal in a cup. That was a chore. I try to order a coffee and a milk, and they try to give me coffee with cream. I try to help myself to milk from the buffet and I’m stopped. I give them a 20 oz Solo cup for the milk. They take it and return with a 10 oz goblet of milk. What the hell? I take it to the bus, though they try to stop me. I wasn’t in the mood.
We were headded to Leon, supposedly to a “Holy Day” Inn. The next day was to be the first bullring and one of a few non standard gigs on the tour. The ride is quiet for the trip to Leon. We do a stop at a Mexi truck stop and in the afternoon arrive in at the hotel. Same story as some of the other hotels, can’t find the reservation and when they do, it’s not paid for. At least I’m on the rooming list this time. The Televisa crew for the interview in two hours for local news is already at the hotel. Seems like every gig has a press conference at the hotel. We have lunch in the hotel. At this point they know that the crew will do buyouts for both lunch and dinner. An extra 350 pesos per show day. They end up comping the the lunch for the party. Nice touch.
We meet for bus call. Seems we need to do some more shopping. Some desk lamps for the star’s rig, a 6 ft table for the Whole Hog and displays and some various other sundries, including deoderant and incense for the dressing rooms. We do what most gringos would do, head for Costco. Again, just like the US, though the selection was a bit different. We do some shopping and arrive at the gig late afternoon.
As we arrive, Carlos, Fillipe and the two other promoters are there with Jorge. Something is going down. This venue is a hammered out Mexican basketball arena that is rarely used. It’s part of the bullfighting complex. It’s big, empty concrete and lacks facilities. The portable stage is dangerous as hell, there are no stairs yet and a few parts of the stage sag quite a bit. The discussion goes on for sometime. Lights, as usual are behind but the sound is ready to go. I retire to the production office and wait for stairs for the stage. I’ll be damned if I’m scaling a six foot stage. I’m too old for that shit, though my hard working dudes have done it all day long.
Jorge enters the room. “There is a problem with my money, I have not been paid. If I don’t get paid tonight after the show, I’ll pull the crew and gear.” he tells the production manager. That could be a problem. These guys have money, something is up.
A few minutes later we get word of stairs on stage and the head lying bastard enters the room. “How would you feel if we changed production companies for the rest of the tour?” The translation is “we’ve already made other arrangements and we’re feeling you out for how you’ll respond”. The rest of the crew excuse ourselves and let HLB and prod dude discuss the situation.
We do the show and for the first time there are no production related delays and we go on time. Seems the band doesn’t want to do any more after show dinners. As we are loading out, there is an emergency meeting being called. Just as we thought, Jorge and the production were being fired. But for reasons we did not expect. It seems that Jorge had a package deal for both our tour and a tour of a Chippendales style show from Austrailia. He bid them combined. It turns out the dance show only needs speakers on sticks and a CD player, really no lighting. Jorge loses that gig, they don’t need a one truck show. Combine this with the fact he’s on the hook for the PM4kM and he now wants to add about US$30k to the total production cost. Ex-fucking-scuse me? How much is this bastard charging? It turns out it’s about US$10k per show. You’re shittin’ me…
So, what are we going to do? Well, we’re told that have an EAW system, Midas for FOH and they’ll rent me a PM4km for mons. The problem is, the next gig in Puebla is an eight hour bus ride, to a bullring we’ll have to make some compromises in production. No problem, the promoter will fly us and whatever band gear we need there early to the next gig. We’ll leave at 5 am. It’s 12:15 am right now. Great…