The Moon, Saturday, and Rock and Knowing how far

Part 1, Saturday

Saturday was one of the those moments that appear like sign posts telling you you've gotten somewhere. For most of my life, I've been in the band next door, getting claps from only my close friends and going on early, barely filling up the floors of a venue too large for us. That's the worst feeling, almost as depressing as huge, new stores with plenty of employees standing empty, everybody with nothing to do. And you get a needle in the chest, of sympathy, when an employee eagerly seeks you out, desperate.

But that was not The Frontier Brothers saturday, not at all. We were the band on the other side of the divide, that, although seemingly miniscule to most, is extremely difficult to pass successfully. We were the guys with the crowd, the kind that piss you off when you first start a band - how did they get there?
The Moon, respectable and medium sized. Fitted probably 120 people. We had lines out the door. Some of our friends had to wait thirty minutes in the cold. I regret that. But it sure did make me feel good. This pride was like my first slice of cake and I always want more when dealing with real cake, it's so good, but mostly I prefer pies, like pecan, pumpkin, and apple cinnamon pie. The only cake I enjoy is black forest cake from Swiss Pastry Shop on vickery. Soon it will be gone. They're building a highway. The reason I don't like much cake is because of the icing, it's piled on too thickly. At birthday parties when I was younger I'd end up with big globs of icing on my plate because I scraped it off to get to the cooked batter part.
So I'll get more of this pride cake and for that we must play more shows, more and more and more and more shows, everywhere.