The Brothers Comatose

Dear Diary – Spring Tour – Part 2

boulder_red

Dear Diary –

It’s Gio again.

It’s Saturday, April 29th, and – yeah, you guessed it.  It’s still snowing.

What gives, Colorado?

Yesterday we got to Boulder in the early afternoon and had ourselves a very lovely time playing music for beer lovers at the Boulder Theater.  Everything was going so well – I got a nap in, found some delicious espresso from a local establishment.  I even thought my revenge on Phil for his dastardly coffee-tossing-out had been exacted, and I could turn the page towards more sunny, hopeful and friendly days.

Not so, Tour Diary!  Not so!

It turns out that the pretzels I threw out were not, in fact, Phil’s.  They were Alex’s.  And he had been fasting all day, with the hopeful security of his pretzels awaiting him to provide the sustenance he’d need for the show that night.
Imagine his groggy fury at their loss.  Then imagine it again, but with more swear words, and throwing things.  That’s closer to what happened.

Sadly (or not?  Depends on how you view these kinds of things, tour diary) the only thing that was in ready supply at the theater was craft beer.  The strong kind.  Alex’s fury quickly turned to somewhat sloppy bonhomie after a few well-placed pints.

The set was delightfully hard to remember.  I believe we played music?  Hard to tell, tour diary.  We could turn to those in attendance for a report of the evening, but I don’t think they will remember any more clearly.  This is to be expected for a beer fest, yes?

That night – and for the nights to follow our good friend Annabel has offered to put us all up in her amazing home.  There is a drum set here, electric instruments, a Rhodes…  Everything we need to record our rock record.  Dreams can really come true, tour diary!!

We poured ourselves into beds last night, and got good rest – well, all except poor Henry, (our tour manager for this run).

Drunkenly mistaking Henry’s bed for mine, Alex – in a rare show of mean vengeance – dumped a heaping shovel-full of snow on Henry’s peacefully slumbering head.

We all awoke to the scuffle/wrestling match/weeping that followed.

Tempers have finally settled… but the tension around the lunch table was thick today, once we had all woken and assembled.  Trust is running a bit low, and us only 4 days into the tour.

We play Denver tonight.  Alex, Phil and I are all constantly looking over our shoulders.  Henry still smolders with sleepy, rage-ful injustice.

I’m sure this will all be cleared up soon, tour diary.


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