|
March 2005
1975 -
I was playing a gig at a cantina in the
absolute middle of Nowhere, New Mexico, run by some New York
hippies for a gathering of the Bandidos. The owner of the
place was a pool freak and challenged everyone in the band to
a game. He would pray to some heathen god before every shot,
jump around and scream when he missed, and otherwise took the
damn game pretty seriously, but we all beat him anyhow (never
challenge a road band to either pool or pinball, we have lots
of free time). He was pretty pissed about it. I think he tried
to dock our pay to get back the money he lost.
The cantina only had three sides, with the back opening out to
a goat corral, the cook put ganja in the spaghetti sauce, and
the drink of choice was Everclear... a real first class joint.
They put us up at this "hotel"...an old rotten adobe place
where, if you leaned against a wall, it would sag and threaten
to collapse. Bunches of drying chilis and laundry hung on the
porches, and they had some pretty nasty goats that would come
right on into the rooms and steal any food lying
around. A particularly badass billy ran off one of the band
dogs that traveled with us.
The Bandidos were a mean bunch, with chapters from Idaho,
Montana, Texas, and California in attendance. They pretty
much made us keep playing nonstop, until they were done
trading guns, women, and drugs, and carving up each other
and their territories, which took about four days...but they
seemed to like us. The cops stayed away, since there were
four or five hundred bikers, and only one sheriff, and maybe
a couple of deputies, in the county. Overall, it was a fun
gig...
We were ready to get out of there when it was over, but had
to push start at least one of the vehicles, and as a final
farewell, the hotel goats chased us as we were humping the
car down the road. But in the end, we left with all of our
money, a pot full of spaghetti, and a case of Everclear. Off
to the next gig.
2005 -
The gigs have changed somewhat....nobody drinks Everclear
anymore, the cars start, and the audiences don't wear
guns.....I do miss the goats...
Here's what's happening in March -
|