Tour Blog 3: The Kindness

As an addendum to my last post, other than theft, the thing that keeps touring bands on the road is the kindness and generosity of friends, acquaintances and total strangers.

There are very few things in this world that should inspire more pathos than a touring band. Constantly broke, hungry and cold, only a newborn baby needs more tenderness and care than a touring band.

Over time, the touring band ceases to be a collection of people, and becomes a unified organism entirely dependent on the kindness of others. The very nature of the touring band is exploitative; it wants your money, a place to sleep, some food, your wireless Internet, basically anything it can get its grubby hands on.

With this in mind, and even though not all of them are going to read this, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has helped the sniveling, cloying organism of which I am now a part: Meadowlark Five.

First, our friend Chris Legault in Ottawa. Even though Chris didn’t have much space, he was kind enough to allow us to nestle in every little crack and crevasse in his apartment. He also cooked us a few meals.

Second, the fellows in the band Konflit. They took us out and showed us a good time in Montreal, and let us take our time leaving their place the next day. I know if it were my place, I’d want the stench the touring band expunged from my house as quickly as possible. It smells like feet and cigarettes. Febreeze helps.

Next, Mr. Matt Davis and Damien Florio from the band Mule Skinner. Goddamn if Matt didn’t have two homemade lasagnas waiting for us after our long drive from Montreal to Niagara Falls. What’s more, he arranged a hotel room for us for two nights! Damien was nice enough to show us the beauty of the geography surrounding Niagara Falls, and had his dad bring home extra pizza for us. Mule Skinner are a terrific band that accompanied us on tour last summer with M Lemon, so they understand fully how tough it is out there. Nevertheless, their generosity was over and above anything I could have expected.

In Windsor, we were stuck for a place to stay. So stuck in fact, that I had to announce to the crowd that we needed a place, effectively breaking the third wall with a brick wrapped in well-worn gym socks. The audience could now smell our sickly sadness. The illusion of professionalism was shattered.

Fortunately, one soul stepped forward to help: Richard Kasoian from the band Frontiers. So, though I may have destroyed the audience’s perception of us as rock gods, we were dethroned gods with a place to sleep. Richard opened up his home to us and took us to a sweet breakfast place where we had some great conversation with him and his buddy Patrick.

A final mention goes out to the Penrose family from Kitchener, with whom we spent three nights. They didn’t even know us and allowed us to stay with them. They cooked us food, gave us free reign of their house for jamming, and Simon took us rope boarding. If you don’t know what rope boarding is (and I certainly didn’t prior to this past weekend), I’m sure you won’t be able to miss it in the next couple of years as Simon’s rope boarding business takes off.

I am writing this from the band room at the Spill in Peterborough, a haven for the pathetic and foolhardy touring band. Complete with kitchen facilities, delicious organic coffee, plenty of room to sleep, and extremely nice staff, the Spill is easily one of my favourite places to play in the entire country.

I know that we will be indulged with more generosity as the tour progresses, but those who have been kind enough to help us thus far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to those who have yet to help us, remember, a stranger is just someone who hasn’t been taken advantage of by a touring band yet.