All right, that's enough, this sketch is getting silly! (This my Pythonesque response to my last Chairman posting {See Chairman Parker (part 25)}.)

I did write a long blurb for "Don't Tell Columbus" which I sent to Bloodshot who took a few ideas from it and wrote the synopsis that appears on their site, and I was going to use that as a reference on this site, but in the end thought it was even more pretentious than the two sentence piece I finally composed. Anyway, I thought the disclaimer was the best thing about it and that sealed it for me.

On to the nuts and bolts. A band tour of about two and a half weeks duration is coming up for April/May, starting on the 19th. Dates are posted on the "live" page and any others that might be added will be up there if we get them.

Every time the dreaded job of organizing a band tour is upon me, I always find the grind of it gets me thinking about never doing it again. For the most part, It's enjoyable to be on stage with a rockin' band, that's for sure, but the old days of tour support and tour buses and two roadies etc. etc. are long gone (and I'm lucky and grateful for having them).

Every time I start looking at the hassles and expense I find myself saying, Enough, this is the last time. What keeps me at it is the buzz of the music and, most importantly, the crowd. "Crowd" is the operative word here.

Yes, yes, I know: gas prices are going through the roof again and your great candy asses would rather remain on their couches, but look at it this way: suppose I do come to the conclusion that I've finally had it with this band touring nonsense and decide that this really is the last one and I'm only going to play solo from now on. Then you will be pissed off that you missed me and the Latest Clowns. And that won't do. After all, they are the Latest Clowns, not just any clowns
("Hey, the solo show is great, GP, we don't care!" I hear them yell. All right, all right, I'll try to be crap from now on when I play solo so that argument won't hold).
Whatever, it is nice to hear a drum beat and some thrashing guitars behind me on stage now and again, so get it while it's still there.
And for the first time since about 1988 I'm throwing a keyboard player into the mix.

And if my idle threats about no more band tours don't convince you, let's not forget this (in case you don't already get it): the oil industry is going to crash (according to a well known insane scientist), and probably much sooner than you think. And if you think we are going to have enough alternative fuels in place in your lifetime, you must be dreaming.
Imagine what's it's going to be like out there when the crisis hits and the oil supply grinds to a halt. We are gonna be well and truly fucked! We'll be eating each other for Chrissakes. It'll be an unbelievable scene.

So, how are you going to feel, sitting there freezing your asses off in your own homes with nowhere to go and no way to get there, guns cocked waiting for the fuel-starved zombies to come crashing through your windows after your vitamin and ammo stash, realizing that you could have caught the last band tour I ever did if you hadn't been such a bunch of lazy rotters? Hey, if I can get out there and still do it, so can you. And I'm the silly bastard that has to sing.

And besides, Mike has been rehearsing the band before I even get to the rehearsal space and he is blathering like a man experiencing early dementia about just how good this bunch are, and how everything they play is sounding really damn good. And I have to presume it is unlikely that I will affect things adversely. The versatility is something to witness, he reckons, and he should know. He's a musician after all, and that means common sense in spades.

Here's the band line up:

MIKE GENT: DRUMS
SCOTT JANOVITZ: KEYBOARDS
BRETT ROSENBERG: GUITAR
ED VALAUSKAS: BASS

Then there's me in there somewhere doing various things and Mike on backing vocals with some of the other blokes having a holler now and again, too.

Be there.

GP