Cowboys, hippies, and ATV's.

Everyone seems to have heard about our little incident with "Pissed Off Pete". I keep hearing from folks about how they are SO sorry our show got canceled. They are SO sorry we drove all the way to San Francisco just to be denied. They are so angry at Pissed Off Pete! Well let me tell you, it's never fun to be disappointed but IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. It's just one tour date. It's just one show. And at the end of the day it's usually all a big blur anyway. Fuck it, we're big boys. We can handle it.

They say that when one door closes, another is opened. Sometimes that door is nothing more than an entrance to a bar in the next town. After enjoying Mission district Mexican food, we concluded it was time to get the hell out of San Francisco. Tour mishaps are best digested with a big glass of "get on down the road". How about Oakland? I've never been to Oakland and they certainly must have drinks there. Besides, George Corona III (co-founder of Terrorbird Media) lives in Oakland. We had a plan.

I called George and he was ready to drink. We snagged a room on the waterfront and George met us in the lobby and took us to the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady is a former brothel in the heart of Oakland that has been hosting neighborhood drunks since the turn of the century. Just my kind of place! Me and the band hung out with George and drank the place dry. This was just what the doctor ordered. Terrorbird is now getting started on our national campaign, so we had plenty to talk about. George got a quick lesson on the history of the Rodeo and we got to know the man behind the best independent radio/PR company in the business. Damn, this is getting good! George has got big plans for our campaign and I'm ready to back it up with a kick ass tour.

PRESS RELEASE FROM TERRORBIRD at the link:
http://terrorbird.com/blog/2010/08/brent-amaker-and-the-rodeo-prep-new-album-premiere-new-track-star-in-adults-only-graphic-comic-book/

Nothing like hammering out business in person over drinks. Sure as hell beats the internetz.

Feeling good about the future, I was ready to hit the sack and get some sleep. Before going to bed, I ate the caramel I had been given at Pissed Off Pete's. This was a perfect ending to what started out as a fucked up day. All was now in order.

I woke up rested on Saturday and the band was ready to go. We had a secret show in the hills of Northern California and we had been looking forward to this for a while. You see Johnny Podhradsky (our tour photographer) went up into these hills six months ago and we haven't seen him since. We got a call a couple of months back and he had arranged for us to play a private event (a good paying gig) in a mountain town that is completely off the map. There was no address, no phone number, no details other than it would be a huge party and we would be the entertainment. I trust Johnny's judgment on these things, and honestly I've been a little worried about him. It was time to check in on the little bastard and make sure he was still alive.

We were given coordinates through a series of phone calls from what I can only assume were burners. As we got closer to the destination, cell phone service would disappear and then return. We hit three different pre-arranged spots where service was live. At each of the spots Johnny would call and give us instructions on how to get to his location. Eventually we arrived at a dirt road and this is what we found:



Johnny took off on his little go cart and we followed him in:






We settled in, had some beers, and got ready for an evening of drink, food, and good times.

Tiny Dancer was afraid he might catch the hippie, so he put on his surgical gloves. I think this was a good call given the situation.


I retreated to my green room a took a nap before the show.


And then we rocked it.

I won't go into a lot of detail about the rest of the evening, but let's just say it was interesting. The scenery was beautiful, the people were friendly, and before the night was over it seemed like 75% of the folks on the hill were tripping on something. Maybe it was their reaction to our music, but I have a feeling it may have been something else. This was a show to remember. And what a great example of Rodeo tour strategy. Make new friends, wind up in crazy situations, get some great stories, and bring the music to the people in style. Thanks for the hook up Johnny. You really nailed it this time.

Before leaving town, we pulled Johnny aside for a sit down. We needed to make sure this hippie stuff hadn't made it to his brain stem yet. He was able to handle a lot of complex subject matter during our conversation. I think we may have gotten to him in time. He agreed to get the hell out of there in time for our next tour. We didn't address the pony tail, but I think it will be gone next time we see him. Cross your fingers.

Sleep deprivation and misery rewarded with a caramel treat

Touring is hard work and doesn't always go as planned. Today was no exception. The Rodeo had to be in San Francisco for a 7pm load in at Pissed Off Pete's. This would mean a 6:30AM wake up call following our 2:30 AM check in at the Jupiter Hotel. I was up until 3:30 AM, so I got a good solid 3 hours of beauty rest. Par for the course.

Before leaving the Jupiter, I produced a heavy piece of journalism for the West Seattle Fun Blog:

http://www.westseattlefunblog.com/videos/from-the-field-brent-amaker-is-tired-feeling-emotionally-raped-during-first-leg-of-mini-tour

Can you tell I got my beauty rest?

Lucky for me Ben Strehle and Sugar McGuinn like to drive. I headed straight to the back of the Rodeo van and slept for another 3 hours. Thank you Ben. Thank you Sugar. I am older than you and I gratefully accept your display of respect. Now shut up and drive 9 more hours!

We stopped for a rest and I tried to catch Ben as he was sending top secret messages to one of his operatives. No such luck:



We've done this drive before. It's a beautiful drive, but now it's starting to all look the same. When I first moved to the West Coast I was in awe of the beauty here. It's still beautiful now, but something about the repetition of the route has robbed me of what I first saw. Damn, that sucks. Maybe I need to spend more time touring the Red states. Maybe I need another mid-west tour so I can appreciate the West as a virgin. Maybe I'm just hung over.

Regardless, the drive got done and we made it to the bay area just in time. Just in time to get shafted! We rolled in to Pissed Off Pete's, sat down for a beer and found there would not be a show tonight. What the fuck? Are you kidding me? Ben and Sugar just drove 12 hours on three hours of sleep. Tiny Dancer is popping pain pills and hobbling around on crutches so he can play this show. Brian gave up canned tuna for a week so he could be in shape to play drums. No show? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Turns out we got caught in the middle of a massive booking vendetta at Pissed Off Pete's. Whoever booked our show is no longer booking this bar. Apparently they booked a bunch of weekends and some of the prior bands didn't show. In and act of retaliation, Pete got Pissed Off and pulled the plug on future shows. Only problem was that no one told us the show was canceled. Pete was not budging and there was no chance of us playing our gig. What a drag.

One of the patrons reached out to us in an act of sympathy. She felt horrible about what had happened and shared that this had been happening to bands for the past few weeks. In an act of mercy she wanted to give us something to make us feel better. She offered me a chunk of bay area hash. I know San Francisco is famous for it's herbal goodies, but hash wasn't exactly what I needed at the moment. I declined. She was persistent and wanted to give me something. She reached in her pocket and told me the only other thing she could offer was her last caramel. I accepted and thanked her for her generosity. It was a little smashed, but so was I. I was touched that she would give me her last caramel. I think I'll eat it before I go to sleep tonight.



The only thing we could do at this point was feed our disappointment. We trotted across the street and grabbed some Mission district Mexican food. I captured a few seconds of the scene:



Well fuck it. Shit don't always work out. I was really looking forward to meeting George from Terrorbird (the P.R. firm for our new release) at our show. Since the show was canceled, we decided to bring the Rodeo to George. We packed up and got out of San Francisco and headed across the bridge to Oakland. George lives in Oakland and we would have drinks with him and crash. Now I'm sitting in my room waiting to meet up. I'll fill you in on the rest later. Hoping for 4 hours of sleep tonight. Giddy up.

Brent

Summer sun and sweat mini-tour.

I'm a cowboy and I hate summer. Just today I was reminded of the reason we avoid playing shows in the summer. It's fucking hot! Black cowboy wear is great in the spring and fall. In the winter you only need an additional layer and you are ready to go. My formal cowboy suit jacket will do the trick most seasons. In the summer, there is no avoiding misery.

We left Seattle at 3pm today. I got dressed at 10am. By the time we left Seattle I was already smelling like Sugar McGuinn's butt crack. We are just a few miles outside of Portland now. The sun is getting lower. I expect it will cool down this evening. But if anyone gets close enough to smell me, they will know. Cowboys should not tour in the summer. This is a fact. It can not be denied. Still, I have to say I'm glad to be in the Rodeo van heading to an out of town gig. I love this life. I'm ready to tear it up. And I hope all of our Portland fans are ready for us to deliver the stink. Here we come PDX.

xo,

B