Everything I Need to Know I Learned by Eating Ramen in the Back of a Stinky Van with Bad Transmission

As I tossed my backpack full of smelly clothes onto the floor of the bedroom I hadn’t seen for three weeks, a revelation hit me that actually made me smile. I remembered that book, All I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, that offers a simplistic philosophy on life that nonetheless works out okay. This lead me to think about writing a lifestyle how-to book based on my experiences touring with Gruk, everybody’s (at least mine and my mom’s) favorite local punk act. True, most people would be loath to pick up a book that teaches you how to live like a 20-something punk rocker, and Everything I Need to Know I Learned by Eating Ramen in the Back of a Stinky Van with a Bad Transmission doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as the kindergarten version, but I think that it would work out. Especially for those kids out there who have funny haircuts and like music that annoys parents.

Be Nice to People You Meet, They May Be Your Friends Tomorrow:
Bands like U2 don’t have to worry about details like where they will sleep after a show or whether there is enough money for gas to the next town. For those of us whose band doesn’t have a lucrative recording and touring contract, we have to rely in a large part on the kindness and generosity of others. To book a show in an unfamiliar town and then drive across three states to play to a room full of strangers takes a certain degree of courage, faith and foolishness. But to live off of doing this every night would just not be possible if it weren’t for people willing to help out. These people form a network that touring bands rely on.
A shining example of a band that helps out anyone they can and then lives on the road off of other people’s gratitude are the Sainte Catherines from Montreal, Canada. Gruk played with this goofy six-piece in Des Moines, Iowa and we became fast friends, bonding over a Ramen dinner in the parking lot of the botanical center which housed the show. They found us a place to stay for the night (breakfast included) and let us tag along and play two shows with them when we had gaps in our schedule.
The three days spent with those wild Canucks is enough to write a book about but let it suffice to say that they are a good band, great friends and excellent people.

Don’t Make a Bad Situation Worse:
Of course touring isn’t all fun and games, in fact it is mostly a big hassle. The fun parts make the toil and hassles worthwhile but after a while the pressure gets to everyone. This happened to us in what I will henceforth consider the anus of California, El Centro. While we searched for a place to eat, our stalwart transportation, the Vantichrist, broke a more than 5,000 mile streak of no problems and imploded its transmission. By 10 AM the next day we had renamed the vehicle Van is the Bastard and agreed to pay the nice people at Aamco $1,800 to replace the transmission.
This is not the sort of event that inspires good feelings in the band and as I was on the phone scrounging the money for the repair (thanks for the loan dad), Tiffany, our drummer, called her mom to come and spirit her off to a gated oceanside community in Orange County. And of course I, being known for saying the wrong thing when angry, escalated the situation and said some wrong things to Rachel, our singer.
The result was that the tour ended four shows early with the female half of Gruk leaving the male half in El Centro. This was not the way to handle the situation.
While on the road, the people in the band are the ones who truly matter. To survive, we had to live collectively and help each other out. This broke down in the desert amid high stress levels and nobody handled it well. You don’t abandon your band. You don’t yell at people who are going to help you pay off a huge debt. You don’t part ways angry and wondering if there still is a band at all.
What you do is work things out in a calm manner. That didn’t happen. Luckily I have friends in San Diego.

If They Want To, Let Your Friends Buy the Beer:
After my band self-destructed in the desert there was nothing left but to enjoy the couple days it would take to replace the transmission with friends in the area. After doing it a couple times, touring becomes an extended trip where you get to see all the people you know who are scattered around the country. It’s like visiting friends constantly, with all the reunion perks included. By perks I mean that people posses the attitude that a good host shows old friends hospitality and rent check be damned. My friend Ken Swagger is a big proponent of this philosophy. Since moving to different parts of California, I only get to visit Ken once or twice a year and it is always an exercise in debauchery. We went to shows, scenester hangouts and parties for a solid four days in one state of inebriation or another.
At a show where another friend, the incomparable Josh Mosh, played a set with his band The Phuzz, a touring band bought Ryan and I beer after hearing our sob story. Ryan wasn’t even supposed to be in the bar but Josh snuck him in the back door as a roadie and paid for our admission. Then we were spirited off to a place called The Roost for an after party where we were showered with free liquor and lent shoulders to cry on.
San Diego wasn’t the only place that showed us hospitality. Just being in a band on the road is often enough for people to want to hang out and donate food or beer to the cause. Teenage girls gave us vodka in Des Moines, residents of the Small Brown House threw a barbecue for us and the Sainte Catherines, a pizza counter jockey slid me a couple slices under the table, and Tucson is just a blur thanks to the Zero Tolerance Task Force and their buddy Neil at the San Francisco Bar and Grill.

It’s True, There Is No Place Like Home:
I had a great time on the road despite the rocky times near the end of the tour. Even though it was fun being away from normal life and living off of the music I love to make, getting back to Chico was one of the best moments of the trip. Even my terrible apartment next to the railroad tracks is preferable to a stuffy van and early mornings of driving. Friends left behind in Chico are as important to me as those I’ve been carousing with for the last few weeks. And showers...they are nice. I wouldn’t trade my road warrior status for anything but it sure does make me appreciate coming home.

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