June has not been a particularly good month in the land of Karlheinz.

It started off decently enough. I went to a few things around the notorious 6-6-06 day, and that weekend, I met up with my friend James, who I used to work with at Tower. He lives in Ohio now, but he's writing a book about the years when we hung out (tentatively called "F-ed Up Inside"), and he and his cousin were back in Boston to try and shoot some pictures of local places where things in the book take place. We all went out to dinner at Uno's on Saturday, where our waitress sat down and chatted with us through the evening, eventually inviting her friend over. I guess those boys must be handsome or something. I paid for dinner, so to pay me back, we all went to a Cajun/Mexican place called Border's on Sunday. After the meal, I got a margarita, and Jame's cousin flippantly said, "Yeah, he needs another one, it's his birthday you know." We all thought it was obvious he was joking, but when the margarita came, it came with a birday candle in it and was accompanied by the staff singing happy birthday to me. I can't imagine they were happy that it wasn't really my birthday. We left a pretty big tip to make up for it.

Sunday also saw the return of my friend Deb to the Cellar, so now I have a pretty girl to gawk at when I get drunk.

So far so good... but that's where the fun ends.

On Monday (I believe), I got a call early in the morning from this girl I know named Heather. She's putting together a three-day electronic/noise fest at the Fishtown Art Space in Gloucester, at the last minute, and wants to know if I'll play. There wouldn't be any pay involved, which is ordinarily against my rules, but I'm still a bit nervous about getting gigs because of being blackballed by Ben Sisto. Besides, I figured, at worst the gig would just be practice for the show with twodeadsluts at PA's. So I agreed to perform. She also asked if I knew anyone else that would play, and I agreed to ask around.

This turns out to be a mistake. Because Heather doesn't have internet access (but DOES have a cell phone - whatever), I had to do all of her emailing for her. The result is that Heather was calling me about five times a day starting at about 9am, to see if I'd emailed various people, if they'd replied (within an hour after her last call), etc. I did tell her Jessica was interested but not confirmed, and Heather got impatient and just put her on the bill. When Jessica did get back to me, it turns out she couldn't play.

Then, on Friday morning, I got another frantic early call from Heather. She had misunderstood the owner of Fishtown. Friday and Saturday were definitely NOT available. She wants me to dig out the one email she could send out, and tell everyone on that list what is going on (which I manage to do, for the most part). Keep in mind that this all happens on the morning of what is supposed to be the first day of the fest.

This whole thing was now officially a disaster. I suggested that she bag the whole thing, but she was insistent on still doing Sunday. At this point I should have just outright bailed, but I didn't. Since I don't have a car, I told her I'd take the commuter rail up there.

So... When Sunday came around, I started out from home at about 4:45, to catch the 5:30 commuter rail from North Station, hauling two thirty-pound suitcases of gear. I'd forgotten how lame the T is on Sunday, so I get to the Commuter Rail stop at about 5:35, and find out that the next train is at 8:30pm. Obviously I have to cancel.

I use a pay phone at the terminal, and call Heather... She's not only angry that I missed the train, but angry that I would take the one that arrived at 6:30, since she said she told me to go on early (I don't remember her saying this). I replied that the earlier train was got to Gloucester at 3:30 - I wasn't about to hang around for two and a half hours in a parking lot with my gear in the 90-degree heat. Anyway, I say that I'd go home, get Ariel's number, and ask him if he can give me a ride.

It's now about 5:45 or so. I take the orange line to Downtown Crossing, to wait for the red line. And wait. And wait... I end up waiting for the Red Line for OVER AN HOUR, and eventually arrive home at 7:30. I'm now physically exhausted from lugging my equipment around; it took me fifteen minutes to get from Harvard Square to my house, because after I go one block, I have to set my shit down to keep my arms from cramping up.

I call Ariel, but get his voice mail... which is OK by me at this point. So I call Heather back, and let her know what's up.

As far as the rest of the show: Not only did I not make it, but Poison Me Happy couldn't either, as their car broke down. Jamie did eventually show up at 7:00 or so... and left to catch the commuter rail during Ed's set, without performing, supposedly because she had to work. Had I actually shown up, I would have played for Ed and Heather, and that's it. And, of course, I wouldn't have gotten paid a dime.

Well, chalk it up to experience, I guess. After I had recouperated for an hour or two, I went to the Cellar, bitched to (and gawked at) Deb, and got drunk.

The next show was on Tuesday. When I went to work on Monday, I found out that one of my co-workers couldn't work on Tuesday either. So rather than take the day off, I had to do a half-shift before cutting out early to transport my gear. I arrived later than I would've liked (a little after 8:00), but I was still the first one there.

The show itself was with Adam Mokan, Will Soderburg, Roxanne Jean Polise, and twodeadlsuts onegoodfuck. Shane from twodeadsluts booked the show, and added a band called Angel Eyes at the last minute. Angel Eyes is this rock band, apparently with James from Box Patrol (though I didn't recognize him), who do bad covers of songs by people like Cheap Trick. They started setting up at around 8:30, actually started playing at 9:30, and played for about forty-five minutes, setting the show back tremendously. (Shane apparently didn't realize that bands had to stop at midnight.)

I went on next, trying to do a version of "Creep," but I couldn't get my equipment to sound even remotely good. About ten minutes into it, the power cut out so I just yelled "FUCK!" and stopped.

Adam Mokan and Will Soderburg played one after the other... and right after that, Shane came on and said that since nobody showed up, the owner of PA's claimed that he owed them $120 to cover the door costs. Bad idea...

So, twodeadsluts and Roxanne Jean Polise did a collaboration... During it, Ted from twodeadsluts stood up on one of the tables and started knocking out one of the ceiling tiles with his mic. The soundguy came over and tried to pull the mic out of his hand, which resulted in Ted falling to the floor, collapsing the table with his and RJP's equipment on it... show over.

At this point, my stuff was packed up, so I booked it to the bar area to get the bartender to call me a cab. At the same time, the owner of PA's went into the stage area, started yelling at Shane for fucking up the table and the ceiling, yelling "Take your shit and get the fuck out!" Now, Shane had told me earlier he was REALLY REALLY GOOD at being an asshole, and he wasn't lying. As he was trying to pack up his stuff, he was yelling at the owner: "Fuck you! I'm tougher than you, motherfucker... I don't fuck around, I will MESS YOU UP... Yeah, that's right, walk away. What's your shirt say? Oh, yeah, it says YOU ARE MY BITCH!"... and so on.

I got out of there while they were still fighting, and while I was in the cab driving away, I saw a police car speeding to the club. From what I heard today, Shane and Ted got in a fistfight with the owner and the soundguy, with equipment being thrown around, people being hit with chairs, etc. Five cop cars eventually showed up, but nobody was arrested.

So, I just took my shit home, then had a few drinks at the Cellar.

Two days later, Will S. posted this on the ihearnoise board:

bar owner from boston now trying to get our tour shut down, called as220 (fortunately we werent playing there), did get out cafe grumpy show cancelled, we're looking for something to fill in...

[...]yeah, watch out, according to the guy from p.a.'s we will steal your equipment, break you place up, make out with your girlfirends and molest your pets...

which prolly woulda all been good if we drew anything... can't even claim credit for the police...

to which Shane replied:

i cant believe that prick from pa's is trying to shut down the tour. he also set up a fake myspace account and told us we suck. im sure he is gonna call other clubs in boston and get tdsogf blacklisted...the funny thing is that we already are.

Nice, eh?

I'm thinking of just not playing out ever again.

...Also: about two weeks ago, Sam announced that he's NOT moving to Wisconsin with his girlfriend, and would prefer to stay in the apartment. I'd like to stay as well, so that threw a wrench in my plans to move out (such as they were, and they weren't much). He said he'll make his final decision by this weekend... which means we'll have about a week to find someone to sign a lease with us.

Joy!