Murphy's Law Pt.4 - Journey to D.C./Baltimore

After I was done college, I went through a period where I was focused on playing music and having fun. Like most recent college graduates, I didn't have very much money and mostly just cared about playing and going to concerts. I tried to get bands I was in on to the bill at concerts I wanted to go to or hope I knew the promoters, so I wouldn't have to pay. I also ran a weekly concert series, so I tried to get the bands I liked on there too.

During this period of being completely broke, I found out that one of my favourite bands at the time, pg.99, was breaking up. They were to play their final shows over a weekend in Baltimore and Washington, D.C. in May 2003. The final show was to take place on the 24th, which I thought would be a great birthday present.

Then came the realization: I didn't have any money. I was working a little bit part time, but I spent it as it came in, mostly, and certainly didn't have the funds to finance a trip like this. However, I was determined to go and started figuring out how I might be able to make it work. First step was to find a place to stay in the area. I contacted a guy I had met up in Toronto that lived in the area and checked with him. He said that it was fine, but he was going to be on the west coast until the night of the first show. 'Perfect, I will meet you there', said I.

The following week, my cousin Russ asked me if I was interested in going down to watch the Preakness, which if you haven't heard of it, is like a horse race and Mardi Gras mixed into one. It sounded like a good time and most of all, it was in Baltimore the weekend before I wanted to be there, so I had magically figured out my way there for free! Except one thing - I didn't have anywhere to stay during the interim week.

I was so close to figuring it out that I completely refused to believe it couldn't happen. So, on a long shot, I went over to a concert of a band called Darkest Hour, who were from the D.C. area. After they were done playing, I struck up a conversation with the dudes and explained my predicament. The singer told me it would be no problem to stay with him for a few days, but that the latter half they were on tour, ending with playing the second of the three pg99 shows. They said it was cool with them if I came along on their tour bus (van).

So now I was getting excited, as I had figured out a way there and places to stay, all I needed was a way home. I thought I could probably take a bus home and suck up the money it cost to do that.

So when the time came, off we ventured to Baltimore. We had planned to drive overnight and get there in the morning, taking shifts driving. I was trying to nap in the back seat to rest up for the later driving shift when we hit the border. The guard asked all the usual questions and then said 'any of you folks on drugs?' We all answered no, and then he proceeded to flash his flashlight in my eyes and say 'what about you?' I guess in my sleepy state, I looked hopped up on something. We made it down and had a great time at the Preakness and hanging out with Russ' friend who lived in the area. Then the time came for me to head off to D.C. to meet up with Darkest Hour.

I had no idea what I was doing, for the most part, and hopped on some train that lead to D.C. area, though I didn't know how close it was to the venue I was going to. I ended up being fairly close by and was able to drag my luggage there with very little problem. The venue hadn't opened yet, so I was left outside for an hour or two until someone arrived. I was able to put my bags in the back of the venue (The Black Cat) and grab some food at the restaurant beneath it.

My travels with the band were a lot of fun until I got overtired and sick. Too much travel and some drinking will do that I guess. I popped a couple of DayQuil and fell asleep in the back of the tour van until we hit Richmond, VA. I awoke feeling much better and ready for the remainder of the trip.

After Richmond, they were heading off to another city on the other side of Washington, so they dropped me at a bus that would take me to the University where the radio show performance was going to happen. It took a long time to figure out where I was supposed to go. I couldn't find anyone who knew where it was happening and eventually ended up dragging my luggage all the way across a rather large campus to find the building that had the radio station in it. My friend wasn't there yet, so I tucked my luggage into the most convenient place I could and just sat on top of it until he showed up.

The shows were awesome. I hadn't much experienced the American 'scene' at that point and it had a really good vibe to it. I met all the bands I had been listening to at that time and even got to be pretty good friends with some of them. I even ran into an old friend of mine from the northern states and they said they'd be happy to drive me as far as Buffalo at the end of the weekend.

I couldn't believe it, I had miraculously made it down here, connected up with all the people I needed to at each point and to top it all off I had a ride most of the way home! I enjoyed the rest of my time in Baltimore and D.C., checking out tourist spots and good restaurants and record stores.

The time came to leave and we started north-bound. The trip is a long one, but the roads are fairly nice and we made decent time. And then the bad news. When we got to the Greyhound station, I realized I had lost my bank card somewhere in Baltimore. I had to call my dad in Toronto and beg him to come pick me up. He agreed to meet me in Saint Catherines the next day if I could make it that far across. My friend said it was fine to drive me across, thankfully.

I stayed overnight and caught a ride over to meet my dad in the morning, travel-worn, tired and very thankful to be on my way back home.

A lot of people helped make that trip happen and I and to this day very thankful for all of their help. One missed connection could have left me reeeeeally screwed, but luckily the stars aligned - barely.

Murphy's Law Pt.3 - Taking the Band on the Road.

I have played in many bands of various successes over the last 14 years (over half my life!), but only once have I attempted the journey into the USA. It's a tough go for bands to get into the states unless they have attained a certain success here in Canada, are playing a festival or are backed by a record label that will get your way across the border with ease.

Well, one of the bands I was in, Ichor, was none of those things, but we had landed ourselves a show in NYC and one in Baltimore with our friends band, I Spoke, so we decided to hit the road in May of 2003 (I think). We made a 4 day weekend out of it to allow ourselves a day of travel in each direction. Being extremely nervous about the border, we took a very long detour from Toronto to Kingston, to a border crossing we had heard was easier to cross at and brought 2 cars and minimal equipment to try and make it an easier go at the border. Even though we just looked like 4 guys crossing, we still got stopped and questioned. The guy must have been in a good mood, because he bought our story about 'visiting a friend and bringing our instruments so we can jam with him' without pulling us over for more questioning.

Onward we went to New York, feeling a bit lighter leaving the border behind us. Eventually, of course, we had to stop for gas somewhere along the way. If you've ever filled up south of the border, especially in one of the shadier areas, you have encountered the pre-pay rules that they have. I had never encountered this myself, so I went to ask the cashier what the deal was. They guy was this very fat and greasy with super long hair. I asked him, 'How do we fill up the car', to which he replied, 'You give me the money and then fill up'. 'What if we don't use all of the money's worth?' I asked. He then flipped his hair back like he was in a Head and Shoulders ad and said 'If I like you, I'll give you the change. If I don't like you, I'll rape you and then give you the change.' I can't remember if we used up the money's worth of gas, but I can say for sure that I didn't go back for the change.

Eventually we arrived at a hotel north of Manhattan and went to check in. When two of us went to sign in, they were telling us the room rules, which included a maximum of 3 people. Well, we had very little money and 9 people, so we had to find a way to get around that issue. So, armed with the knowledge of their policy and seeing the sign saying that the entrance was under video surveillance, we devised a plan. We took 2 people of similar stature and had them carry in some stuff, then one person would go out and take in another person of similar stature, wearing first persons hat and glasses, and so on, until we were all in. Then we proceeded to spread across the room, littered on beds and the floor.

In the morning we got up and headed for the venue. The show went off without much problem, other than the fact that the headlining band we were to play with didn't show up. The venue was this neat place called ABC No Rio, where some concert promoters squatted in a place and made the power work, and then the city agreed to sell them the spot for $1 if the people involved with the venue would spend the money to bring it up to code. I haven't visited the venue in years, but their site is still up so I assume that they got the work done. Anyhow, after the show, which was a matinee, we decided to make the trip to Baltimore since we had a place to stay for free there. We took off in our separate cars with no specific plans other than getting there. Within an hour or two, we had lost site of each other on the highway. Our car stopped at a service station, hoping the other car might be there, but they weren't and we couldn't get cell service. After an hour or so of waiting and playing this crazy arm wrestling arcade game that had a robotic arm sticking out.

We got to Baltimore at some point around dinner hour and got a hold of my friend Cole and eventually met up with him (hopefully I can one time articulate the interesting coincidence that led to me meeting him in the first place). As the night went on, we got a little worried. Finally at maybe 10 o'clock, we got a hold of the other guys, who told us they were about to get a hotel and head home in the morning. Luckily we avoided that situation and we all went back to Cole's house. We had a great time in Baltimore and Cole is the most hospitable host that a person could hope for. The show was at another community oriented place called Charm City Art Space and was full of great people and fun bands. We stayed another night at Cole's and developed a great bond with the other musicians and Cole's friends. This is an experience I have had many times in my several trips to Baltimore over the years.

Leaving Baltimore was a bittersweet experience. We were sad to leave, but it was such a terrific time that it all evened out. We left feeling pretty good about the experience and were pretty lackadaisical about crossing the border. We were wearing band t-shirts and playing loud music and completely forgetting that the border is just as likely to detain you on the way back into your country as when you are leaving it.

Both cars (crossing at the same time, idiotically) got pulled into the check point simultaneously and they tore apart our cars. They took all the bags and musical instruments out searching for anything that might incriminate us. By some miracle, they didn't open up my bag, which contained all of the flyers and merch we were selling. They finally, in a last ditch effort, asked us outright if we had any drugs; or spiky necklaces, bracelets, anything that can be used as a weapon. When we (truthfully) said we didn't, they were forced to let us return to our home country. The experience was super nerve-racking and left both bands thinking that although the trip was a lot of fun, we didn't think we'd go back into the states until we could do it properly, and so far, I haven't.