On Tour

My first time on tour was with the Moving Targets in the late winter of 1987. Pat, Chuck, and I, along with Carl Plaster doing sound, had our first gig scheduled for Baltimore, MD. Chomping at the bit to get a move on, we left a day early with the idea  of staying at a motel that night and heading to our first gig fresh and energized the next morning. Overpacking our personal belongings to the nth degree, we were taken aback on seeing how little room was left for us. None the less, we got on our way. An unexpected snow storm forced us to stop in New Jersey towards the end of the day, and Carl and Chuck went into the office of the Motel 6 and booked a room. Pat and I snuck ourselves in a few minutes later.

After a night of chips and beer, we we awoke the next morning and were hardly able to get Pat's van out of the parking lot with all the snow. I may have even used my trusty Telecaster to dig ourselves out, I can't remember. Back out on the great highway we noticed a horrible metalic sound after about 30 minutes on the road. The fuckin' van started smokin', and we took the next exit, happy to see a gas station/garage at the end of the ramp. After the kind mechanic popped the hood he told us the motor was blown and the engine block cracked. It was going to cost around 1600 bucks to fix the thing and since it was a holiday weekend (I forget which), the parts wouldn't be there until Tuesday. Carl, being the guy with the credit card (totally saving our ass, I might add), started calling around for a rental van to get to the next few gigs. Because of the holiday situation (national rent every van in the vacinity day?), he was only able to come up with a REALLY small Ford compact. Chuck suggested that we purchase one of those big plastic containers that you can strap on top of your vehicle so we could bring as much shit as possible. We did have some cheap-ass 50/50 Targets shirts to sell that TAANG was so kindly fronted us for the tour. Without yet playing a note we were going to be almost two grand in the hole. I suggested that Chuck and I flip a coin to see who got to bring their amp and I lost. To add insult to injury, I got stuck in the back seat, getting crushed by Chuck's Peavey combo. I hardly had enough elbow room to smoke a rollie.

Arriving at the venue a few hours later, we were happy to see our musical brothers the Volcano Suns, who were also on the bill. We stretched our legs and entered a rented hall full teenagers waitng to hear some punk rock. Jon Williams from the 'Suns let me use his Marshall 50w combo and Peter Prescott let Pat use his kit for our gig. We played a hurried, unremarkable show, then sat back to watch the "Suns rip through a killer set and mock the young punks at the same time. We ended the night staying with super-cool Targets fan Gary Hichens, eating apartment-cooked vittles and watching videos of a band called the "Toy Dolls".

The next morning we said goodbye to Gary and his wife and made our way to the next gig. I should mention that it was in Miami Florida (my home town) and it was almost 1500 miles or so away. Curtis from TAANG booked the show for us after Gang Green's wildly sucessful show there a few weeks before. They were paid well and sold about 500 t-sirts to boot! That's mainly why we had a shitload of shirts with us in the plastic bubble. We took turns driving strait through and hit the state line the next morning. Eight hours later we pulled up to the place, our name emblazened across the marquee. I recognized it as the same theater I used to take the 11 bus to in order to catch the occasional zombie flick. We loaded in the back and were amused to see that the stage was about 12 feet above the bolted-in theater seats. There was still probably a piece of gum stuck under one of  them from when I was last there. 

We did our soundcheck, and went backstage to drink some beer and eat some sandwiches. After a while the promoter showed up and brought us up to his office where he pulled out a giant bag of cocaine. Chuck and Carl stepped back in horror, but Pat and I stepped up to the plate. The promoter was a crazy Spanish dude who was paying for his operation with  drug sales. I was now starting to see why Gang Green sent back such good reports of the venue. Unlike their triumph, we ended up playing to the top of 17 peoples scalps from the way-too-high stage. Because of the drugs, thankfully, we still got paid and sold ended up selling a half-dozen shirts as well. The rental was driven back to New Jersey without me, the band allowing me to stay back in Miami with the gear for a visit with my Mom and a few old pals (a classy move on their part as well as freeing up some space in the Ford). They picked up Pat's van and then came all the way back to Miami to get me and the gear for our next show in Clearwater, FL.

8 days on road, 3 cancelled shows, 3400.00  in rentals, gas, and repairs and we were back in business. Rock n' Roll is so awesome.