This is neither a cautionary tale, nor a sob story from yet another artist boo-hooing about how difficult it is to make it in the world of music today. If you hear the call, there is no cautioning against going out into the wild world to display your talent and craft, and it is well known that if you choose this path in life, there are far greater occasions that call for tears. No, this is a story of true grit and determination, and even a reaffirmation of why we were out there to begin with.
The other members of Screaming Mechanical Brain and myself, had just released a brand new album on a brand new independent label and were about to embark on a brand new independent tour. All of this was very exciting because we had never put out a record with any sort of distribution, and after some good opening slots on larger tours, we were packing some smaller venues around the country. We were to head from Minneapolis MN down to Chicago, Indianapolis, Lexington KY, Atlanta, and end the first week by doing Tampa, Orlando, and Fort
Lauderdale FL before heading back out west.
Naturally, things did not go exactly as planned. After waking up and leaving Chicago in our trusty (or not so much) 15 passenger van we had not made it 2 hours on the road before we heard a loud bang. I thought we had run over a muffler that had fallen off of another vehicle. This was not the case, however, as after we pulled over to the side of the freeway, we found the van would no longer get into gear. This smelled like a transmission problem, but we all convinced ourselves that since we had put in a new transmission not 5 months ago, that it must be something else, something that could be fixed today and off we'll go to continue our journey.
Three hours later the tow-truck arrived and informed us that there was a mechanic shop ahead in Zionsville, IN. Of course, it was closed by now and of course, he could only bring 2 of us with in the truck. So he hooked up the van and we pulled away watching as the other 2 band
memberd and our merch guy prepared to walk along the freeway for 5 miles. While in the truck we talked to the driver and discovered that he was friends with people we knew in Indianapolis, though they all lived too far away for us to stay with. I also remembered that it was time to start canceling shows. Indy was surely a goner, and Lexington's days were numbered. I hate canceling shows, I truly do. Possibly because I am effectively our booking agent and it's so much work to get them in the first place that it feels like I am cutting off one of my own fingers when I have to cancel. Before I knew it us and our broken down touring van were being dropped off at a closed repair shop to wait through the night.
Several hours later the rest of our crew joined us after a very long walk. Their only reward was trying to sleep in a hundred degree humid as all hell van till morning. Our merch guy opted to sleep outside in the parking lot only to be woken up by a paper boy calling him a
scumbag at around 5 AM. The rest of us were awoken later by the mechanic shop guy asking us if everything was all right. It certainly was not at this point, but I simply explained to him our situation and another short 2 hours later we were told our transmission had gone out. This was not the worst news ever, because we had a warrantee and the repairs would be free, but at the same time, we found that it would take 2 weeks.
Defeat. Something I had not felt in some time. We had been on a roll; things were looking up, but now it seemed that we might have to return home in shame. I raised the question of "Now what?" Were we to get bus tickets home, or were we to find a way to press on and at least complete the Florida dates. We do very well in Florida and canceling those shows could really hurt our standing there. I was very proud when after little or no discussion it was unanimously
decided that we find a way, no matter how horrible, to finish the rest of our shows. So we started thinking, and we concluded that we would have to rent a vehicle. We called dozens of places trying to rent cars, trailers, cargo vans, etc. and we could find nothing that would solve our dilemma. I then called a U-Haul place that was 20 minutes from where we were, and found that they had a 14 foot truck that we could have our of state for a week. It would cost 1200 dollars, and three of us would have to ride in the back, which is both illegal and dangerous, for 16 hours down through Georgia to Florida.
After a long cab ride and a lot of lies told at the rental place, I was driving the biggest truck I had ever driven back to the mechanic shop to load our gear and go. This, however, was not the end of our troubles. After less than a half tank of gas the people in back realized that there was no air circulation and it had to have been about 120 degrees in there. This was bad. We took many breaks and tried many remedies like fans and buckets of ice, but it did not
become livable till after the sun went down. We were going to have to miss Atlanta now too, but we could still make all 3 Florida dates and we drove all through the night. During my turn in the back I discovered what all the complaining was about. I tried to sleep though it but I was drenched in sweat after 10 minutes, I could hardly breath, it was hell on earth. We peed in bottles to avoid stopping before the sun came up, and we smoked pot to pass the time. The floor shook and rocked, I was a ball of nerves the whole trip, until the door came up and we were in sunny Tampa.
We got lucky here, as we were able to share equipment in space with the other band that was on all three dates. Thus having to be cramped and have our friends drive us around, but avoiding the U-Haul truck which was a blessing. I could not help but think about how the door
only opened from the outside and if we had crashed or caught on fire, it would have become a metal tomb on wheels.
Then the shows came. They were beautiful. Packed venues, laser lights, cold beer backstage, eighteen year old groupies, playing the music we had so lovingly created, and as we signed autographs at the end of every night, we knew it was all worth while. All the misery and torment and uncertainty was only half behind us now, but we would have been crazy to go home. This is what we were put here on earth to do, and it felt great to fulfill our purpose even more against great adversity. It was as if we had spit in the eye of fate after pulling together in the face of great common foe.
Upon leaving after the last day, I devised a scheme to keep us cool in the back. I propped the door open, and had one fan blow in and one blow out. It worked very well, except for one thing: we were now driving around with people illegally stashed in the back of a U-Haul for all to see, and every time we went over a bump, the rope stretched and the door opened and slammed shut. All the while semis and other cars were flashing their brights and honking, as if we were unaware of what we were doing. We knew damn well though, and I thought for sure
we were going to get pulled over and arrested. Once in the night we hit a huge bump and the fans went flying out the back, I woke up and ran over to try and reel them in while we flew at 80 miles an hour down the mountains in Tennessee in the pouring rain while semis honked
and flashed at me.
Somehow we made it back in Indy. Only one more week till the van was finished, so we stashed our stuff inside, and I went to return theU-Haul. The rental place pointed out a huge scratch in the side which I certainly put there. I decided now was not the time to own up to
it, and I went on a huge tirade about how they are trying to screw me and they eventually gave up and gave me the deposit back. Match, point, John. After that we checked into a hotel and non other than my ex girlfriend offered to drive 8 hours and pick up 5 guys in her Toyota Scion XA. This was cramped and terrible, but still less scary than the truck and after seven hours of me flooring it we were home.
As I sit here and write this, we have yet to pick up the van. We have a show in Kenosha WI coming up and we will be leaving extra early to go pick it up. So this ordeal is not even over yet, and I still say to you that it was worth every bit of discomfort and danger. Rather than tearing us apart, it has brought us closer together. Dates can be rescheduled, and money can be made back. The wheels keep on turning when you have such a strong belief in a dream. I know we will continue to suffer, and be lonely, and be frustrated at times, but we have gone too far to just lay down and die, or get 9-5 jobs. Screaming Mechanical Brain is a beast made of blood and sweat and pure determination. A beast made of such things, is not so easily slain.
www.smbband.com
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