Tonight at Marist College they used the men’s basketball team locker room as our dressing room. This dude, #55, named “Castleberry,” had size 17 shoes.
After the show, Ryan put a note in his shoe that said:
Castleberry — You have big feet — Guster.
I can imagine Castleberry getting the note, reading it, and then giving someone a dead arm in the hallway.
To those of you who’ve written and suggested that maybe I concocted the whole Nashville bike ride story to cover up for the fact that I shat my pants, I offer these defenses:
1.) The poop was white. Humans don’t make white poop.
2.) The poop was on the outside of my pants. That would have been difficult to pull off.
3.) Why did I have the bowl, Bart? Why did I have the bowl?
Some of you may be wondering what the hell we were doing during our 9-man topless encore with Phantom Planet and Howie Day last night in Utica. It seemed half the crowd was rocking along to “Party Hard,” while half the crowd was looking at us all confused while we played a really really bad song with fake blood on our faces. I knocked Jason’s drum kit over at the end of the song, but gently, being sure not to damage any of the microphones and not to leave any of the cymbals on the ground at an angle that might stress their infrastructure.
I wish I had pictures, but I don’t yet… I’m hoping that the Andrew W.K. album cover will explain everything. Or maybe it just makes everything all the more confusing… how? why?
Tonight at Williams College, we’re going to play “Rocketship.”
A bird shat on my leg while I was riding my bike around Nashville this morning. At least I’m assuming it was a bird.
As I pulled over and looked for a leaf so I could shmear it into my pants, I found a couple of things to be grateful for:
1. I was able to bring my bike on the road this time. That’s a nice perk, even if birds shit on me while I ride it.
2. For some reason I was wearing long pants in the 85 degree heat today, albeit my only “clean” pair. Had I been wearing shorts, I don’t know what I would have done… pull over and shmear it into my leg with a leaf? Curl up fetal on the side of the road, maybe take a short nap?
In other Guster vs. Nature news, monitor engineer & guitar technician Jamie Landry was stung by a bee on the hand during the first song last night in Oxford Ohio. He delivered a guitar to Ryan on stage and whispered in his ear, “I can’t feel my right hand, just so you know.”
Welcome to my life, Jamie. I haven’t felt my right hand during a show in three years.
There’s a place in Charlottesville called The White Spot that’s apparently been serving “Gus Burgers” for over fifty years. That’s the burger pictured above. It’s got a fried egg on top of it. Anyway at the springfunday thing we played they had a Gus Burger Eating Contest early in the afternoon. Some guy ate like 7 of them in 5 minutes. Some girl snarfed all over a judge. We held our own Gus Burger eat-off between band members on stage during our set. The contest was to see who could eat one (1) Gus Burger the fastest, but Adam was the only one that finished the whole thing. Ryan took a bite and then threw the rest into the audience (ketchup stains and all)… I ate about half of it and then kept nibbling on it between songs for the rest of the set. I must say, the egg was subtle but delicious. Fa Fa was hard to play with a Gus Burger heading north inside me whenever I’d move around too much. At one point I vomited a small chunk into my mouth but swallowed it back down before it could come out. I am wondering if I should delete that last sentence.
But it wasn’t just the Gus Burger making me sick. It was the fact that I looked out the window of the bus in the morning and saw this:
No, it’s not the latest version of the Guster Is For Lovers t-shirt. It’s hot new country sensation Pat Green, the guy that played before us at UVA. I’d never heard of him, but apparently he’s big-as-can-be in Texas. And his image sure was big on the side of his truck:
Why, the only thing bigger were the Original Justin Workboots looming next to his head on the other side of the truck. I wish I’d gotten a shot of the other side of the truck. It’s a photo of Pat in a button-down Justin Workboots shirt, super-imposed over a gray dusty country road.
Or maybe I’m just jealous that I have to pay for my own shoes. Or as Ryan said during the show “I wish we had Pat Green’s face on the side of our bus.”
For what was supposed to be a “drunken” crowd at the UVA show, everyone was really polite and attentive. Plans to visit some fraternity after the show and play a late-night set on bass, guitar, and drums were foiled. Would have been nice to practice some of the new songs that might work in that format and that we aren’t going to get to on this current tour. Oh well. Maybe in Indiana when we play with VH-1 celebrities, “Flickerstick.”
Maybe we should have spelled “Ruster” on the drum cage instead… last night was a bit of an odyssey. It had been a long time since we’d played our instruments on stage, and even longer since we’d had that funny feeling where no one really knows what comes next in a song. I will say this: The crowd last night in Lancaster PA was fabulously forgiving, even as we spent ten minutes trying to remember the chords to “Two Points For Honesty” before giving up.
I broke my snare drum on the first song (Happier). Ryan turned the last song (Bury Me) into a Budweiser commercial. We debuted Say That To My Face, Joe Song (still untitled), and the latest version of Ramona. On Joe Song, Adam sticks a napkin in the strings of his guitar to make it sound like a banjo, and I play bass-pedal-font keyboards.
Anyway, last night was rough but it was fun to play music again. Thank God the Yuengling’s at Hildy’s Tavern were only a buck and a half after the show.