Reach Music Festival

We played the Reach Music festival last Saturday. It was the first show we'd played in a long time. Probably two or three weeks, at least. As usual, it was balls cold and windy and no alcohol was provided on location. They did have some great looking funnel cakes but I only had three tickets so I decided to use those on a chicken sandwich.
Brett and I decided to make a trip to the local liquor store. I initially proposed we get tequila, which was debated back and forth. I even doubted myself. In the end, that was the choice. Tequila and lime juice. We took drags of that in the car before the show.

When I stepped out of the vehicle, it was not so cold anymore. My throat felt like the chimney of a low, glowing fire down in the pit of my stomach, gently warming everything. I had to change into my suit, we were in a hurry. Even as I undressed down to the whities in the howling wind I was not chilled.

On stage, my fingers were cold. The guitar was thrown horribly out of tune. So were Travis's drum heads. When we started, no one was there. Then I realized a lot of people had arrived. Probably 30 or 40. I mean, it was fucking cold for them. They hadn't exercised the foresight; they hadn't consumed any blue agave that night.

After the show, they listened to me attentively and were much nicer than normal people. These kids displayed neither visible pretension nor any unreasonable preoccupation with the ironic. It wasn't all about doing what was ironic with these kids. They just listened to what they wanted to and enjoyed what made them and dance and endured a lot of cold weather to do it. Good people. I'd really like to seal off and exterminate Beauty Bar on a Sat. night, then airlift the reach kids over there. That would give that place some courage, some guts!