BRAVE Tour Journal
South Bend, IN, June 20, 2003
Journal entry by Suvo
***Suvo's additional input on the South Bend show…
Probably the most interesting person I met while in the Midwest was a
fellow named Dan. Dan is a roadie for a local band we played with in
South Bend. Dressed in an atrocious brown striped lounge shirt, goofy
corduroy shorts, and a flat pleather hat that would make Bill Cosby
jealous, Dan reeked of class. Unfortunately, he also reeked of laziness.
During his band's tear-down, he armed himself with a beer in one hand and
a lone splash cymbal, the smallest piece of the drummer's 83.5 piece kit,
in the other. Dan, of course, rationalized his apathy for technical
support. He supplied us with unfounded (and elaborate) excuses like his
adept ability to create millions of dollars worth of damaged band gear.
Then he would hand the cymbal off to a friend and continue to socialize
with us while the rest of the band toiled away. I liked him from the
start.
He had a quick answer for everything and he could seamlessly pass the buck
for even the most trivial of chores. Somehow he even got out of simply
walking to the bar and getting a pitcher of water, and nobody seemed to
care!! I definitely needed to learn from him, and here was my window.
Why was he still around, forever associated with this band?? It's
because he was funny as hell and everything he said managed to crack me up.
But from there we engaged in some seriously heavy, mind-fatiguing
conversation like:
Topic one: How to steal guitar equipment, and
Topic two: Lesbians
After our set, Dan, "The Super-Roadie" approached me. He was most
appreciative of our music. What shocked me here was that he was honestly
listening to every note, every chord progression, every harmony, every
drum fill, and every vocal melody we churned out. He must have shaken my
hand a hundred times when he genuinely muttered out compliment after
compliment. I was speechless. This guy really does have a passion for
music which could easily be lost in his lackadaisical demeanor. The only
thing I could spit out was:
Me: Dude, you gotta tell me where I can get one of those hats.
Super-Roadie: Damn, I stole this [hat] from my hippie dad.
Me: That's the third different story you told me about that [hat].
Super-Roadie: I did who in the what, now??
I dedicate this tour to you, Super-Roadie.
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