April 13, 2004
So Close to Hell You Can See Sparks
Last we left Earboy and his merry band of marauders (and I do mean band) they were neck deep in Grammy parties and the awards show. There have been some gigs since then, but nothing that stood out one way or the other. The usual kind of thing when you're doing the corndog and casino circuit. This weekend's extravaganza leads us to just outside "The Biggest Little City in the World". Or as I like to call it, Vegas for people with walkers or no teeth.
Reno, NV, gateway to Tahoe on one side and a shitload of desert on the other. Just outside Carson City or over in Storey County looms some of the only legal areas in the US for the world's oldest profession. Once the famed Mustang Ranch graced the banks of the Truckee River, though was seized by the Feds in 1999 and closed when the operators were convicted of rackteering. The Bureau of Land Management eventually was given title to the property and sold it at auction on eBay no less on the second of two attempts. Though government officials have stated they wouldn't allow prostitution on the property, a Reno weekly was reporting that's exactly the manner in which the site will be used. The area is also home to the Bunny Ranch variant of legal brothels as well as others. Just like on HBO.
If that's a little too racey for you, Reno is also home to one of the most family friendly sport facilities in the world. The National Bowling Stadium. It looks like they modeled after the place in the movie Kingpin. Roy Munson would have been proud. Every year from Jan to May, bowlers from all over the country flock to Reno to play tournaments in what is the biggest damn bowling alley I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm not one to judge a person by the color of their neck. I come from a long line of admitted rednecks and good ol' boys. Downtown Reno still engenders some of the "pioneer spirit" from the Old West days, particularly on 4th just off of downtown. I'd always thought Comedy Central's Reno 911 was a scripted comedy show. After hanging on 4th for a bit, I'm suspect that Reno 911 is in fact reality TV. My last time in downtown was perhaps eight years ago. In subsequent visits I was either heading up to Tahoe, or gigging and the arena at the university in the suburbs to the north.
This trip would take us to one of the more established and legendary casinos in that part of the state. Family owned and operated, the facility was well away from the dank and crime of downtown. The owner purchased the property back in the day when Sparks was mearly a railroad switching yard. He was there well before the Interstate came through as it is directly above the main casino floor replacing Route 40. It's a slower atmosphere taylored to the prime clientel, older and retired folks. It's got a friendly, homespun vibe going on that I appreciated. Back in the day, it was known that if you played that venue you would have a couple of opening acts. That's just the way it was. The first act was the seven minute or so performance of Bertha. Bertha wasn't a singer or dancer as such, but a pachydrem. Assisted by Angel, Bertha did two gigs a night most nights unless se and Angel were performing on the Ed Sullivan show or some such. Bertha died in 1999 and Angel was sent to the Dallas Zoo. That's the closest that place got to a showgirl gig.
My advance started much as it does for any other gig. The band did the first show in this incarnation about 14 months ago. They spent about a week rehearsing and did a couple of shows. About eight months and six shows later, I joined and have done the sixty or so shows since. I received a call from the guy that was augmenting the sound. They have a basic system, but need to augement when the more demanding shows come in. I did my usual "48x16 mons" and nearly 20 DI requirement. The provider didn't flinch, though he said all DIs weren't going to be the same. His primary console wasn't configured at the time for this many stereo mixes or for cueing of those mixes. The FOH control was fine, thought the stacks were weak and they needed to bring in some subs. I ran down my list of consoles that were acceptable, from a Crest LMx, to an XL4. I knew of a PM4kM that was about two hours away. We'd used it a couple weeks prior. I told him if there were any issues to to let me know and we'd work it out.
A couple of days later, prod dude called. He had just received a call from the gig's prod dude. Gig dude asked who I was and why I had this "wish list". Seems that he thought that a 4kM was a bit over the top. And all these DIs and processing. In real world of big time gigs, 10 comps, 5 gates, 2 verbs and a 4kM is pretty entry level stuff. Certainly nothing to get worked up about, considering they'd need 14 wedges and a 12 mix rig to do this without ears. There were also some issues with the cost of the backline. The act paid last time as they needed to use it for a week to practice. They used inhouse audio, but it didn't have quite what they needed, but no one knew in advance as this was the first show every from this configuration of the band. In the time since there have been 70 to 80 shows to get everything sorted. Gig prod dude thought we were trying to put the hammer to him. We don't do "wish lists". We tell you what we need to do the gig, and outline it in the rider you get when you contract the band. One thing that separates the men from the boys in this biz is the way they deal with the requirements. The phrase "do you really need that" is one that gets me going. Of course we need that or else we wouldn't ask for it. You took the gig, you signed the papers, deal with it. About a week later it was confirmed we would get what we needed to do the gig.
We've grown into a nasty habit of flying in day of show to save costs. To make matters worse, for the second time in a row I was put on Air Greyhound. They also go by the name of Southwest. It's not a bad airline, per se, it's just the boarding process could be a bit more streamlined. The whole cattle boarding thing turns me off. The planes are clean, the service friendly, but the boarding thing is a hassle if you want a good seat. I thought we covered this the last time, but here I was on Southwest again. Normally, I would take an airline where I have attained priority boarding and check in status. Not to sound like a prima donna, but waiting in line at the post 9/11 airport sucks ass. It's one thing for some family that travels once or twice a year to be subjected to that. It's another thing for those of us that fly several times a month. Southwest has no such features. Not only that, but they have yet to install the new bag screening hardware behind the scenes so upon check in I get to talk to my pals in the TSA. I don't know about you guys but I feel so much safer with a bunch of middle aged, overweight white men going through my stuff and making me take off my shoes everytime I board a flight.
The "B" concourse that the Screamin' Baby Express uses in Sea Tac is at this point the least upgraded, least amenity laden terminal in the joint. They are doing a big revamp and soon it will be a professional airline terminal with all the stuff that a seasoned business traveler such as Earboy might need. The WiFi was broken, so no Internet. There's a gift shop, bar, Starbuck's, Pizza the Hut and a no name joint with dogs and sammiches. I was expecting Foxworthy to come over the PA and say "You may be a redneck if...". If you are waiting in line for more than an hour in the Southwest boarding area so you can get a seat an not have to sit next to Bubba the Love Sponge's number one fan. I board the airborne equivalent of the Mayflower, take my seat and head toward "The Biggest Little City in the World".
Though we were about 15 mins late for the departure, we touch down right on time. I was to grab my bags and head directly to the gig for load in as was our custom these days. One of these days this flying day of shit is going to bite us in the ass. It almost has a couple of times. I was five hours late to a Chicago show due to a flight delay, only to show up just prior to doors. Robert, my driver met me at baggage claim. It was the first time in several gigs that my ground transport showed as indicated. We grabbed my bags and headed for the gig. Robert apologized for not having any ice for the fully stocked bar. Not a problem. I was working anyway and if I wasn't, I don't mind an uniced shot or two. The car had just been released after getting a brake overhaul. Ice for brakes, that's a pretty good trade in my book. No drinks for this kid, I have work to do. Robert gave me the low down on the property. He'd been there for about 12 years.
On arrival I'm sheparded to the Invited Guests desk and checked in. Just then, the owner of the place appears and greets me. He's a nice chap, we exchange pleasantries and he's on his way. The desk clerk, an attractive sort that reminded me of Mary Poppins, down to the accent, gives me my key and apologizes for not having a rooming list just yet. No worries. The place is pretty mellow. It appears that some of the staff were members of the Donner Party. Not descendents, but original members. Most of the staff were older, in contrast to the botox and silicone enhanced staff at most other casinos. There had been a couple of rounds of lay offs recently. The propagation of indian casinos in Northern Cal has hammered the economy of Reno. And that's in addition to the regular hammering the Bush lead White House has put on this economy. Reno and the casinos are hurting. Why drive a couple hours when Thunder Valley is just outside of town.
I head up to my room on the 21st floor to drop my bags and change into my Big Time Show Business Roadie outfit. As I exit the elevator I meet up with our Prod Dude. We head to the showroom to prepare for our three days of shows. We enter the showroom, meet the staff, all nice guys though a bit apprehensive at first. They look like they're expecting us to go off on them. We try not to do that, unless someone really, really deserves it. We set up for the gig and started a line check. The owner of the provider showed and we talked about requirements and what it would take to convert his desk so that we might use it next time. I think we were all relieved in that there weren't any issues. We met gig prod dude and we were all on the same page. We did the show, had a good time and a couple of us head to the casino for a night cap. It was 10:30 and with the exception of one restaurant and the casino floor bars, everything was closing for a Thursday night.
The next morning FOH dude and I set to the buffet, or the Jimmy Buffet as I like to call it, for a meal. They only do breakfast at this buffet on weekends, but the lunch buffet was pretty good. We had what those in the casino biz call an RFB gig. Rooms, food and beverage. That means they covered our rooms, food and beverage. The food and beverage was supposed to be capped at US$35 a day but a couple of us did more than that but weren't charged. Gratuity not included. The place is known for the restaurants. A Basque place, a steak house, the Jimmy Buffet and two coffee shop type places, one of them 24/7. The Ranch House had the real kick ass breakfasts. We had a pretty good buffet lunch, US$8.50 though we didn't have to pay for it. I adjourned to the business center to check some mail and surf the Web. Call wasn't until 6:00 pm.
It was about 10 past 1:00 on Good Friday afternoon when I first appeared at the Business Center on the second floor. Locked up tight, no one in sight. There was a phone next to the locked counter instructing those that came by when they were closed to call. I picked it up. It rang through to the gift shop. I asked when they might open it. She replied that it was open, until 5:00pm though would be closed on the weekend. I replied that I was there now, and no one was there. She seemed stumped. "They're supposed to be there until 5:00" she said. It was about quarter past one and they were gone. She put me on hold to find out. After two minutes of hold music I hung up and headed for the concierge. At the concierge desk, I asked if there were any WiFi hotspots in or near the hotel. It looked like asking that question was going to make her head explode. She had no idea what I was talking about. "An Internet cafe?" I posed. "We'll, we have two wonderful cafes and a buffet." she replied. For a moment I thought she was bullshiting me. She wasn't. I thanked her and went back up to my room.
In my room I searched for Starbucks or Internet cafes in the Yellow Pages. I don't do dial up. The Starbucks were far and few between and there were no Internet cafes listed. On the way in from the airport I noticed a Mac dealer off the freeway. I found their ad in the book and call them for advice. They knew what I was talking about, but knew of only a couple of places out in the 'burbs. They were knowledgable, but it didn't help. Looks like Kinko's. You can always count on them even though the service is spotty. Just south of downtown was the nearest Kinko's. Or about a US$15 cab ride. Fortunately, Kinko's is next to Wild Orchid. Wild Orchid was dead, I did my 90 mins on the Kinko's network and headed for downtown to check it out, and catch a cab back. That's where I learned about the National Bowling Stadium and 4th. On the way back I run into a great local coffee joint, Dreamers at Virginia and the river. With free WiFi to boot and cheap (US$6/hr) rentals. After a quad latte and trolling downtown, about 5:00 pm I catch a cab back to the hotel.
The gig goes well and we head to our planned "all hands" dinner at the steak house. It's one of our informal band/crew get togethers. This time we are celebrating lighting dude's new gig running the office of the bigtime staging company. He's not going to be with us after this run. He's good folk, I'm going to miss him. We dine on steak and seafood, good wine and hit the casino floor just after midnight for "one small nightcap". I retired sometime after 3:00 am, others about an hour later. I decide not to go into town on Sat, sleep until noon or so and have one of those kick ass breakfasts at Ranch House. i end up watching some American Chopper, kicking back and killing time reading the local papers and the Sun pre release San Fran Chronicle until the call. We do another good gig. Tonight, we have post show at Rosie's Cafe and post show drinks until about 1:00 am. I call it a night.
The next day, Easter Sunday, we head back. The day is pretty uneventful, save for my run in with "Jonathan 56000", the TSA agent working the counter a Air Screamin' Baby Express. They decide my Pelican full of tools need sthe once over twice. As he's looking through my shit, he decides that my Surefire flashlight needs to be inspected. He clearly has not seen one before and is trying to force the battery compartment open. "Don't force it, if you don't know how to open it ask me and I'll show you" I told him. He doesn't take kindly to that remark and proceeds to attempt to give me the million mile stare. What an asshat. This guy was one of those failed out of cop school, so he took a gig at TSA so he wouldn't have to be a renta-cop. About 15 seconds or so into his attempt at intimidation, I bark, "Sir, is there a problem?"giving the stare back. He says nothing. "I've had some problems with you boys losing or breaking my equipment and I'm not pleased."
After several seconds he replies, "I recognise your concern, but that is not my fault". Well, he had spilled an item out of a pouch and didn't put it back. "You missed one" was my response. He's fully pissed at this point, and I'm not any happier due to the way they were treating my property. About then a supervisor appears and asks if there are any problems. He says no, but I say I'm not happy with the situation. She blows me off and they proceed to apply the explosive detection device to every item in the case. These people clearly do not know what they are doing and do not have any considerable experience in preventing terror attacks other than some scant training in some classroom somewhere. The TSA does not make us any safer. They make it more of a pain in the ass to fly and as far as I can tell, the only purpose they serve is to make rich white people that don't travel that often feel better. Taking off your shoes, and taking your computer out and putting it in a tray is not making us safer.
We need to do things that actually make us safer, not that only make us feel safer.
Posted by Dave at 11:25 AM