I’ll be playing a solo acoustic set at Bobby T’s tomorrow night, here in Manhattan.
We’re also looking forward to the Lincoln County Fair next weekend.
I’ll do better, I promise.
What I used to hate is now that for which I long
I hope everyone had a happy Independance Day
I did
I didn’t
I did and didn’t
A coworker broke my 1983 Brougham that serves as my backup transportation and the starter went out in my pickup toward the waning days of harvest. I found a new one on eBay for less than half the price of one from the parts store and had it delivered to Manhattan so it would be waiting for me when I arrived. I pull started my pickup and came back, leaving my truck parked until the starter arrived on Friday. After not allowing enough time for installation, getting frustrated and doing stupid things such as raging and breaking a battery cable and fowling up my clutch linkage, I realized at 3:30pm on Friday that I wasn’t going to make my 2:00pm departure deadline for the show in Hays. I started loading my equipment in the Blazer, only to fill it up with half of the required equipment.
Out of options, I rented a 2005 F-150 for the last four days, blowing any possible profit from the weekend shows and then some. I took a picture of the dash, because it’ll probably be many years before I’m actually behind the wheel of something that new again.
I didn’t make Blaine’s show at the WWF, but we did get set up in time for an 11:00pm start at the Rail. It was one of the funnest shows I’ve played in a while, and a big thanks go to the Blaine Younger band for crashing my party after they got done playing down town. Blaine got up and sang a song and Mike and Johnny got up and played a few oldies with us.
The sojourn to Oklahoma was pleasant, moreso I must admit than it would have been in my pickup.
I knew it would be a good show at Ira’s in Alva, OK, when I pulled up and found everyone there already drunk and willing to help Mason and me load in. Everyone was singing along and hitting on my girlfriend while I sang on. Mason broke out the old drum solo for the finale, making me realize what a complete idiot I’ve been for not forcing him to do it more often. It’ll definately be part of our set in the future.
While we deserve to be dead in a ditch somewhere, we somehow made it back as far as Kiowa and crashed at Tyler Hiltner’s Holiday Hotel.
A big thanks to Tyler for not only being so hospitibal, but also for hooking us up with the stormy show at Dave’s. Jim’s car broke down before the show, leaving us bassless for the evening. Roger Powell, Mason’s father, set in on bass for the first half of the night, filling out the sound. We had a great response, and it looks like we’ll be back soon. The only problem with Sunday’s show was that I left my voice in Oklahoma. Josh Jacobs got up for a partial Emotional Feedback reunion on the Skynyrd songs, giving me a much needed break. The other highlight, at least for me personally, was that we got to play Rain King again. We used to play the shit out of that song; this was the first time the whole crowd was actually yelling, screaming, and dancing to it.
The pickup ended up costing $230. After the $135 bar tab that we somehow racked up at Dave’s, I don’t think I quite came close to that, much less compensation enough for gas. To top it all off, I was supposed to be able to move in to my new place on Friday; I figured I’d give the previous occupant a few extra days. We pulled in yesterday to find the room still full of stuff.
I am so crumpled emotionally and physically after these last few days that I can’t function. All I want is a place to lay my head, functioning transportation, and a few days off. With a show in Lawrence on Wednesday, a truck and a car that still aren’t fixed, and money spent on two apartments in neither of which can I currently sleep, it doesn’t look like my wishes will come true.
Happy birthday, Mike McClure.
“The price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings.” –Duritz
From the cab to the stage
Rocking and rolling out of a 1983 Massey Fergueson 860 and into a 2002 Martin DC-1E, I’m back in the saddle again.
We’re hitting Hays with a big show on Friday at the Rail. Wild West Fest should be concluding just about the time the party start on 11th Street.
Saturday marks the first Aaron Traffas Band show in Oklahoma, with a performance at Ira’s in Alva.
Sunday will be our sophomore show at Dave’s in Kiowa, KS. Last time was good and we had 2 hours notice. We’re actually planning this one, so it should be a blast.
Wednesday, Mason and I will be down at the Harbour in Lawrence.
“When you’ve been walking and someone offers you a ride, you don’t complain if the air conditioning doesn’t work.” -Aaron McKee
Cut wheat?
Kiowa New Holland
I might not make it home tonight
Wretchedness began to intend to impend
Rain delay
Back to harvest
And yet not quite
Three auctions in four days last week
Now back to the farm
One combine ready
Mine is still knocking
Spent most of the day yesterday isolating
Rear beater has some play
Going to run it until it blows up
I’m so behind on phone calls
July and August are nonetheless filling
I’ll try to be regular
Harvest poker break
I won something like $80 last night playing poker on an evening I was expecting to be working. I guess I’ve been on a lucky streak the last few days.
Mason and I played at Bobby T’s on Thursday to a fair crowd. Getting to play with Mason was certainly worth halving the pay. We had a bunch of compliments to the sound. I never believed that drums and an acoustic guitar would work at T’s. Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.
Friday found me westbound for Hays and one of the more interesting Rail shows I’ve had in a while. After resigning to the fact that lack of advertising on my part led to the empty bar to which I started playing, the place lit up. There were several groups of people who came in, not to mention the several girls from different groups trying to get me naked on stage, even though I explained that wanting was often times much more enjoyable than having. I signed more autographs in various places on various things Friday night than I have all year. After hours lasted until like 5:00am. Thanks to Hillary for the floor, Trey for coming out, J-Will for coming back to town for the show, the Rail for booking me through September even with their staff changes, and to Blaine and Mike for giving me such a damn hard time all weekend. Paybacks are hell, gentlemen.
Saturday was the third show in as many days. I’m starting to rescind all those thoughts I had about Trevor being a Nancy when he was complaining to me about blowing out his voice. I got through the show, but I’m glad it was my last one for a while. I actually was really, really happy with the show. It was the first time I played all of my originals. It was the first time I sat down for a solo Buster’s show. I played most of the songs, for lack of a better descriptor, more acoustically than I normally do — slower, with more feeling, taking more liberties with the melodies. The only hard part was being sore and tired from the three hours sleep on the aforementioned floor, and the fact that from 10:00pm to midnight my throat felt like I swallowed a bunch of broken glass. I got through it and was darned happy with the final she-bang before my vacation.
Vacation my ass. I’m sitting here at 8:40am getting ready to go clean out our drills, service both combines and the wheat truck, change the front walker shaft on my combine, convert both machines from milo to wheat, and fix all the problems I will discover when doing all of this. But you know what? I really don’t care. For the first time in over a year, I have a date on Wednesday.