Road Diary TacocaT Tour Diary: Is There a House Bong?
posted by October 2 at 16:30 PMon
BREE: I’m so stoked that we are taking our first tour down the west coast, especially because I’m a sham of a bass player. Our drummer Lelah bought a $600 van on Craigslist for touring, but two days before we leave a forklift from the construction site next door knocks out the back window. They avoid our calls and threats about fixing it, so we duct tape a corkboard to it. Its really cold and windy to sit next to. Another thing to worry about is Eric is still on probation for a stupid drug felony he got at SXSW last year, so he’s paranoid about smoking in the van. Bummer!
I had spent the afternoon silkscreening our band tshirts with Megan from Don’t Stop Believin’ Records. It has a dolphin on a walker, but the dolphin isn’t crippled. It’s just the only way it can walk on land. I also make several dozen pairs of cat ears as a cheap, gimmicky way to make some gas money since we don’t have a record to sell yet. Ears sell like hotcakes. A bunch of bands tell me t-shirts sell way better than records. Isn’t that weird?
Our first show is in Longview, which is an hour north of Portland and the hometown to Lelah and Eric. The show is at the Chinese Gardens, which was where we played our first show months and months ago, and one of the more welcoming spots for Tacocat. Everyone cheers for Emily’s kazoo solos. I notice that she is getting better at kazooing.
(Overheard between two girls at last call: “That’s where I know you!! You were crimping my hair while I went to the bathroom at Josh’s party!!” Whoa.) Then as planned, we drive five fucking hours to Ashland. Eric works graveyard shift at the airport, so his vampire schedule accommodates night driving. He gets to stay sober and drive. Haha!
EMILY: Long drive! No sleep until Doug’s. Bree and I snaggled the couch at 9 am. There are deer in the yard at 7 am and Bree is so tired—she distrusts them and is convinced they are aggressive. Deer. “Do they bite?” Later, Eric taps Bree on the ear until she forks over some grass. “Is there a house bong?” Eric would like to know.
BREE: So when we roll into Davis at like 8 pm, the only people at Delta of Venus is the bartender and the sound guy. This makes us pretty nervous. I try smoothing nerves out of Emily by insisting it will be neat, like a chance to practice our new songs. In front of strangers. In a strange city. We cash in drink tickets asap and begin slamming beers. Surprisingly, by the time we play, the place fills up suddenly and becomes our danceiest show ever.
The band the Cops from Seattle randomly stop by, and are all super nice dudes. They tell us they are playing down the block and that we should stop by since the crowd is kind of bizarre. When we get there it looks like a fratty breeding ground for human monsters. Girls in halter tops loudly make fun of our clothes, and a poor man’s version of Linkin Park is opening. Cops are, not surprisingly, the only good band playing tonight; we have a drunken dance off to their set before we have to go catch up with Eric.
LELAH: We walked from B St. to G St. drinking our gas station purchase of “Go Girl” energy drinks on the way to see the Cops at the G Street Pub. We were greeted with a frat spectacle. Emily needed her birth certificate to get in. I told Bree she looked like an angel walking through a sea of demons. We walk back to B St. and Bree and Emily drunkenly push over and accost some fratties and steal their balloons. As we run away laughing they scream that they are going to “pillage our assholes.”
BREE: The surprising turnout from our show earlier goads me to drunkenly inform the cashier at In-N-Out that we “totally killed it.” Some kids that were at the show earlier sit by us and tell us they liked us, but we are too stoned and confused to make any sense in our conversation with them. We finish our burgers and drive to Sacramento to stay with our friends Heather and Andrew, who set up the show. They kindly donate the floor for the night.
LELAH: Eric and I play Yahtzee by the light of a cell phone. Worst game ever, but I won! Slept in the van. Not too bad. We have breakfast at the clown themed “Pancake Circus” and get an oil change. Six hours to LA.
Eric as a dinosaur.