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Notes From The Front | PJ Newman

Friday 11 AM

Before I forget, onstage now is an octogenarian dance troupe in revealing leggy costumes. Did I mention that these women are in their 80’s? Showing legs and undergarments is just plain sick and wrong. Joe, on the other hand, is enjoying this and I believe, even slightly aroused. Sick man, but very helpful. Did I mention that he’s a very mentally disturbed man and the dancers are insanely old?

Thursday
I’m supposed to have been here at 9, but the hotel had to be stopped at and some asshole had to cut me off so I had to drive a few miles North before I could turn around. Did I mention that I was kicked out of the parking lot? Or that I got a parking ticket? Probably not
OK, so there’s Ken and Glen, the Biopsy Twin Entertainment Co-Chairmen. Ken decided to put the risers in front of the stage, which, of course, also means in front of the speakers, which, as we remember from Physics 101…
So
Between acts, I organize labor to put the risers onstage. We get halfway through when Ken FREAKS OUT!
HE PUT THEM THERE ON PURPOSE!!!! Fuck, I thought a vessel was going to burst in his skull! I am informed that I had NO RIGHT WHATSOEVER to do what I did.
Ok, thinking back, I probably could’ve asked him, but I talked to all of the house guys and they said they put the hard surface on the stage for just that reason. I took full responsibility for the maneuver. I tried to explain to him why it sounded like SHIT and what we could do to fix it.
Long story short, later in the day he comes up to me and tells me that they’re going to try the risers onstage Friday, as if he suddenly took Bonehead Audio and personally knows the feedback frequencies. Fuckwit!
Even later, I apologize again and this time I’ve got the little prick eating out of my hands (remind me to wash thoroughly). Joe is a huge help moving mics and translating Amateur into English.
Had a chance to duck out and grab a bite. Walked to the Swiss and had a very forgettable tuna sandwich.
Evening went w/o a hitch. Only 7 auction items. Long ass boring putt-putt tournament. Somebody bought me a glass of wine. Food only passable. Artichoke dip ok, but the baked potatoes had too much bleu cheese.
Did I forget to mention that this brand new facility isn’t wired (or unwired for that matter)? They told me that if I ask 3 days in advance, they might be able to find me a data cable. The reason I mention this, aside from mind-numbing boredom and near total sensory depravation, is that the hotel room afforded me that link to the outside world that I so desperately needed. Tiny, no amenities whatsoever (ok, Cartoon Network works but no Bravo. I miss the West Wing already). You could’ve forked over a little more dough and stuck me in the Sheraton. Think about it: 24-hour fitness center, hot and cold running housekeeping staff, 3 blocks away. You don’t love me. I have lost my most favored nation status.

Friday again
It’s not loud. Just no way possible. But still getting complaints. Maybe they’ve all had their ears syringed and put fresh batteries in their hearing aids. My “Superior Customer Service” chip is installed and fully functional, although I believe that there is a certain frequency in old people’s whining that might just short circuit the chip and I become an evil robot again. I think they had it right in Logan’s Run. Kill everyone at 30. Kill them now!
Lots of people come up to me and ask what I’m doing. How to answer w/o getting tossed out on my ass? One old guy actually said that w/o us (sound folk), there would be no show! I almost asked him to adopt me (I was so moved), but after going over his financial statement, I’ve decided that I’m better off foraging in the wild.

I’m now under the impression that there are at least 7 rings of Soundman (and woman) Hell. Limbo and the innermost ring are filled with novices because they either don’t know enough or should know better. One or more of the rings are, in fact, 150,000 plus square foot concrete boxes with nothing but right angles, 30-foot ceilings and at least 10-second natural reverbs. One of them will always have an X-Mas pageant of some sort running 24/7. I’m wondering what I did to end up here and am curious of the wait time for reincarnation.

Jeff informed me that there will be Seahawks gals here tonight. I hate the Seahawks but love gals. I can get at least 4 of them in my car for later on.
Back to the present, onstage at this moment is a cross between Up with People and a teen horror flick. What do these kids possibly think they’ll get with this sort of an education? They’re too old for the Mickey Mouse Club. Maybe this is training for USO tours and they plan of having these kids captured and tortured by the enemy. Maybe our side is supposed to torture them. I want to know what motivates them to do this. Do they get to have orgies after rehearsals?
Up next, BANJOS BANJOS BANJOS! Over 30 banjos! I’ve never seen 30 banjos in one place together.
Fuck Fuck Fuck.
OK, I’m sure this will be true of us as well, but for the most part, at least in what I’ve seen and heard for the last 3 days, OLD PEOPLE SMELL FUNNY, CAN’T HEAR FOR SHIT, ARE CRANKY AS HELL AND NOW THEY PLAY BANJOS! It must be a safety in numbers kinda thing. What do old people travel in? Packs? Gaggles? Pods? Prides? Herds? Schools? Metro Accesses?

First half of the day is done. Went for food. Went to the Swiss again. Today’s sandwich was somewhat better than yesterday’s, but nothing worth writing home about. Came back and there is a BUZZ in the system coming up in the previously dead quiet wireless channels. Maybe some new computer (3 or 4 new ones since I left), solar flares, black hole. Dunno. Powered everything down and up, re-re-batteried the handhelds. Less than before, but still audible. I’m the only one who really notices, but now it’s going to bother me all night.

Later
Show done. All is good. Will trouble shoot in the morning. Things calmed down. Didn’t hear the buzz.
Electronics, is after all, at best, still only theory.

pj

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