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Whoa. This was a whopper. We didn’t realize it at the time, but it turns out that this was our most comprehesive tour of the USA ever! In the past, if we got to the east and the midwest we didn’t get to the south, or if we got to the west and southwest we didn’t get to the northeast. This time, sweet mamas, we did it ALL. And who better to rock the nation with than the Donnas? Let’s face the facts: it’s no secret in the rock world that the Donnas and the Smugglers love each other. We’ve be hitting it off, trading shows and tours back and forth for the better part of two years so the time was right to make it happen on a nightly basis for a month straight. How ‘bout it? Let’s do it! Read on to find out what happened on every night of the trip:
Weds March 1, 2000, US Border We started off way late on a typically rainy March day in Vancouver, and even though the first show in LA was still 48 hours away we could already taste the SoCal sunshine. A certain unforeseen stressful hurdle had to be crossed however. See, contrary to our band’s name, we actually spend HUNDREDS in immigration fees making sure we can get across the very fucking hard to get across US border. That done and paid for, if we happen to run into a border guard greenhorn with more bravado than brains, in one flick of a wandering eye or cockeyed glance, the entire tour can be in the dumpster. So was the case at the border, as the guard claimed we had our collective heads up our asses and was so damn bloody close to sending us back, until a competant co-worker strolled over, stamped our passports, gave us the nod and sent us on our way. UGH!!! Where’s Dolemite and his machine gun when you need him?
Thurs March 2, Berkeley CA: As we charged south down the I-5 we attempted to get comfortable in the tiny mini van we rented. We actually managed to stuff pretty much all of our equipment inside, and Nick was even able to construct a bunk which actually worked and was pretty comfortable! It should also be mentioned that our beloved bassist Beez would only be doing the LA show of this tour, due to "porno work restraints and gambling commitments". Therefore the wide gap Beez’ disapearing ass left was again aptly filled by the younger, cuter, thinner and funnier local Vancouver squeegee punk Jeffy McCloy (avid tour diarya readers will remember Jeffy from our tour to the Canadian Maritimes in fall 99). The first thing we noticed about Jeffy on this trip? Deafening, endless belching, a rank asshole and a penchant for stretching fact farther that Grant dreamed possible. After a quick merchandise/hello stop in to the charred remains of the burnt-out Lookout Records office (they recently had a fire in the roof of their building, ironically and accidently started by punk squatters!) we were in the home stretch to LA.
Fri March 3, The Roxy, Los Angeles CA: From playing everywhere in the LA area for years... East LA x 10, Long
Beach, Silver Lake, Beverly Hills, you name it, we FINALLY made it to the
Sunset Strip in the heart of Hollywood! Boo ya! According to the locals...
well a local (Ronnie from the Muffs) the Roxy is a "classic venue", half a
block from the Hustler store (Beez got cufflinks), opening in the mid
seventies with a show from Neil Young and never looking back. And of course
we weren’t the only stars in the house tonight!!! Check out THIS guest list,
shitsacks: Dean Haglund (Canadian, and one of the Lonegunmen from "The
X-Files"), Molly Shannon ("Saturday Night Live"), El Vez ("The Mexican
Elvis"), Rodney "On The Roq" Bingenheimer, members of Green Day, the
Runaways and the Muffs, and.... another fellow Canadian... the Captain of
the Starship Enterprise, TJ Hooker himself, the guy from the Rescue show...
William "The Shat-Man" Shatner!!! He’s apparently DATING one of the
Sat March 4, Boston’s, Tempe AZ: We made it out of LA in good time, so we had the clock-space to live the high-life, dining for lunch in beautiful, sunny and warm Palm Springs, right on Gene Autry Blvd. For an hour we were able to observe how the rich and famous do NOTHING but stroll the blvd, stop and talking to friends, hug a baby, then stroll some more, then kiss their tan gay lover, then stroll some more, then stop and chat with friends, and maybe take a twenty minute call on the cel. Jeffy started yelling "motherfucker" when soup started coming out his nose so alas, the bubble burst, reality bit, and we had to leave. The last time we played in the Phoenix/Tempe area was in 1992 on our first-ever US tour. We played at a dump called the Sun Club on "open mic jam night" to ONE PERSON who thought we sucked. Let’s just say it was a little better to be playing to 700 this time. It was an outdoor club, which, being in Arizona, should be amazing, but of course this is the one night in like 365 that it was verging on god-piss. This club had a weird set up, with a twenty foot high chain link fence running the length of the club, seperating the kids from the drinkers. Couple the fence with the dusty surroundings and the frothing dance pit, and the show was quickly taking on an apocalyptic "Planet Of The Apes" feel with every Arizona State frat boy howl. The rain luckily held off for our set and we had a good time dancing around, but of course about five songs into the Donnas set, their rock’n’roll thunder was matched from above, as the heavens opened, the storm burst and the Donnas darted for cover. That left a lot more time to hang out than usual, so we got to get drunk with our heppy underage friends like Seth from the Panty Raid and his weirdo pals from the Cummers Explosion and the Peeps. Seth kept me happy by sticking whiskey and other things down my throat in the front seat of his pick ‘em up truck in the parking lot, and later Nick and I kept him happy by sticking beer and other things down his throat through the chain link fence in the bar. That is until we all got caught by the bouncers and were quickly thrown out. It was also rumoured on this night that, unbeknowst to me, I was walking around the bar with male cum on my face.
Sun March 5, The Launchpad, Albuquerque NM: As we made our way east across the desert, we unexpectedly ran into the first snow of the tour, and a little later ran into the Donnas and engaged them in our usual sign war that occurs when our vans are side by side on the highway. "Eat my fat pussy", "let me fuck and cum all over your fantastic tits"... you know, the usual stuff like that. And that’s just what THEIR van came up with. And I guess we gotta take up the Donnas’ invitation for after-show dinners! Last night they ran into boxer Mike Tyson at the Waffle House!! No joke! The sign war went down on the historic Route 66, and lo and behold, the Launchpad was right on the 66 Albuquerque business loop! This show started off with a rock-controversy, since hometown heroes Scared Of Chaka were also on the bill, but the Plus Ones refused to open. After a serious stand off at the merch booth, Scared Of Chaka swallowed their four albums and six years worth of punk pride and played first. Explosively awesome as usual. And that wasn’t the only source of controversy, oh no! Seems the Smugglers have a Mega-Fan here in the ‘Que, and this MF REALLY wanted to win our dance contest. Unfortunately celebrity judge Donna F picked a frilly man in the front row and Mega-Fan did not win. But Mega-Fan wanted to win. Mega-Fan hunted down the dance contest winner and, incredibly, Mega-Fan offered to purchase the trophy at ANY expense! Sensing desperation, the letch of a winner took advantage of Mega-Fan and charged an outrageous SIXTY FUCKING US DOLLARS for our little dance contest trophy!!! You can imagine that, once becoming aware of this shocking travesty, and after trying to hunt down the trophy-hustler in vain, we returned to shower the now-broke Mega-Fan with attention and merchandise for the rest of the night. That night we stayed in a little rock ‘n’ roll adobe shack with a wild woman named Kamille and her sweetheart from Quebec(!!) named Gilles. Maybe we needed to let out some steam since we were still close to the beginning of the tour, but on this Sunday night, total debauchery ensued. We danced all night, popped champagne, Nick stripped, a shitfaced lady sang torch numbers, sweet-wheat was sucked, and the washroom’s only privacy was hanging Greg Brady beads so everybody could see Dave’s cock and ass every time he took a massive dump.
Mon March 6, VZD, Oklahoma City OK With a venue name like ‘VZD’ I expected this to be some punk-dive warehouse, especially on a Monday night, but this turned out to be one of the best shows of the whole tour. VZD is in actuality a fancy old drug store / restaurant / bar, and by the time we got to the show, the venue was already packed and sold out! The promoters turned out to be big Smugglers fans with all of our records, and the crowd was jammed up against the stage and ready to PARTY. Even though this was our first time playing here, we had some manic fans surrounding the stage, already singing along to the songs from "Rosie". The dance contest trophy went to a stocky little guy who made the trek to see us in Texas last year and is apparently into internet animal porn. An even stranger fan emerged later, presenting the Donnas with custom-made "Donnas" license plates that he thoughtfully had "all done up" just before he got out of prison. A very sweet gesture. We stayed with the promoters at a great old house with a beautiful porch, and as we sat there enjoying the cool Oklahoma breeze... jeez, we ended up torchin’ cheeba again tonight! We’re finally stoners!
Tues March 7, Galaxy, Dallas TX We didn’t have the greatest time at this club last year with the Donnas, and even though we played to some great kids and have gotten nice mail about this show, this was a rough one for us. I won’t get into it too much since lots of people seemed to dig it, but some things just didn’t "click" in Smugglers camp. But let’s just forget about it! If YOU thought it was great we’ll go with that! But hey, even the almost unflapable Donnas had it a little rough. Apparent "fans" heckled them, calling the Donnas "stuck up bitches" and "little rich whores". Donna R doesn’t really take shit from anyone anytime, and was pretty quick to shut em down with defeaning hammer-on guitar licks. Because of the Dallas yahoos, it was another slightly abridged show. It was a weird night all around... have I mentioned Autumn yet? Autumn was the Donnas newly hired tour manager, an LA bred and born Shiela-of-all-trades. This lady has done it all... a cruise ship chef, a scuba diving instructor, stripper, chain smoker, band manager, a great lover of red wine, an author of her own romance novel and even a massage therapist. When Autumn wasn’t running around the club making sure the proper shit went down she was often at the merchandise booth, and if it was quiet you can bet a horny back rub that the Smuggler doing merch that night was being treated to a downtown tension-tickle. Dave was back there in Dallas, and lemme tell ya Autumn went DEEP in Deep Ellum that night. About two hours later, when we were safely snuggled in at Dave’s family’s place in the suburbs of Fort Worth, Dave lurched out of his sleeping bag as if he mistakenly passed out in the "cheese bag", staggered into the can, rammed his head in the toilet and puked his guts out. Bad Texas Oprah beef? No! Too much "No-Doz" that day in the van? No! It took a lot of drugs, beer and about a day for him to recover, and once Autumn heard of Dave’s odd predicament, she explained that a deep massage can "release very nasty toxins in the body, causing severe nausea". Thanks for the warning baby!! Dave thought the only side effect from the possibility of a good massage was the possibility of a great blow job!
Weds March 8, Emo’s, Austin TX We had a late start from Dallas giving Dave optimum post-massage recovery time, but it’s always bombastic to play Austin so we lead-footed it. Before the show Nick, Graham and I found salvation in a bar down the street, finally finding a Vancouver Canucks game on TV, watching our team chalk up a dramatic come from behind 3-3 tie against the defending Stanley Cup Champion Dallas Stars. Sure enough, we were spoiled again as another totally packed show awaited us at Emo’s, and just like at our various South By Southwest shows, Austin proved once again to be an awesome crowd and a true rock ‘n’ roll town. Back at the merch booth, one of our Smugglers Kissing Dollars finally sold, and I had the pleasant experience of smooching a beautiful Texan. Where are you? Email me! Nick has his own hands full at the booth, with a drunken lady draped all over him wanting to buy Nick for the night. Nick spent the night selling merchandise with a tongue in his ear and a boner in his pocket, nervously pushing her away as her angry, drunken, massive boyfriend looked on. The Donnas attract an incredibly... um... ‘dedicated’ group of fans, and certainly this night was no different. After the show, a lad came in to the dressing room telling us all that he recently entered a contest to be a "walk on" on the "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" TV show. He didn’t get the walk on, but out of thousands of entries, he incredibly did claim second prize: a LIFETIME supply of Mike And Ike’s jellybeans. Every couple of months, an unmarked truck backs into his driveway and dumps off crates upon crates of the candy (just like when Bobby Brady won a lifetime supply of chewing gum after beating Jim "Mr. Magoo/Howell" Bacchus at pool!). So flush with the fun lil’ jelly beans was this guy, that with the snap of his fingers, the bouncers starting loading in crate after crate of Mike And Ike’s into the dressing room. All three bands ended up stuffing the rears of our vans with the shit, and they would last until the very end of the tour. And as luck would have it, much to Dave’s uneasy chagrin we ended up staying with a MASSAGE THERAPIST tonight. We weren’t quite sure what kind of ‘massages’ this ol’ gal was peddling, since she had condoms laying all over her massage table, so yes, besides Dave, we all got the ‘Texas Treatment’. The trick, as our no-nonsense host Carol-Anne militantly detailed, was to drink a ton of water directly after your massage/Carol-Anne hard-on stimulator.
Thurs March 9, Fitzgerald’s, Houston TX Our last show at this wild roadhouse was the one we later "envisioned" to get up the chutzpah in the studio while recording "Rosie", and yep, this one, even though it was in the bigger and less intimate room upstairs, was another UP show to remember. We gave away about a hundred boxes of Mike And Ike’s from the stage tonight by whipping them into the crowd, and we were honoured when local heroes and good pals Jurior Varsity judged the dance contest. After the show, in the unseasonably hot Houston night, the three bands had our first parking lot bonding party with some kids from the show, yakking and boozing and yelling and necking and throwing around chips and fruit and other ‘tossables’ from the Donnas/Smugglers rider of good times.
Fri March 10, Shim Sham Club, New Orleans LA We were all excited to pull into the French Quarter of the "Big Easy", because after all these years this was the first time the Smugglers have played New Orleans! And even though Mardi Gras officially ended a few days earlier, it seemed the party was still in full force. As we parked the van across the street from the club, we were greeted with a full-on Mardi Gras parade right down the street the club was on! A marching band, bizarre costumes, weird clowns on stilts, and a whole bunch of drunk people decked out in tuxedos, evening dresses and lots of colourful plastic beads staggered on by, and Dave was quick to grab a bottle and join right in. We arrived a little early tonight so we took off to explore the dark and narrow streets surrounding the club. After the parade, our first sight was two cowboys, propping themselves up against a wall as if they were rag dolls thrown against it, both of them heaving and puking all over themselves, fading in and out of drunken subconsciecness. Their wives stood a couple feet away with their arms crossed, rolling their eyes in embarrassed, white trash disgust. It was about 5:30PM and these two fuckin yahoos were done for the night. The show that night was at an amazing old vaudville theatre, with lotsa cool props from old plays strewn all over the place. Drunk was the name of the game tonight: a totally fucking sauced "fan-couple" snuck backstage so the boyfriend could give his girlfriend a place to lie down ... on our couch backstage "cuz she’s a-gonna puke any second". He was even kind enough to ask his cross-eyed cracker-beau if "ya want some fuckin’ fruit or somethin’, honey-doll?" and with that he tossed her a package of Sunkist candy from the Donnas’ rider. Whether it was post-Mardi Gras syndrome or just another night in New Orleans, this turned out to be a whacked evening, mostly starring the same couple who snuck backstage. They were soon upfront, calling the Plus Ones "goddamn motherfuckin’ California faggots", and then later offered us a place to all crash. No, we didn’t take ‘em up on it. And legendary Runaways producer Kim Fowley tried to buy one of our Smugglers Smooch bucks. Graham was doing merchandise at the time, and needless to say, when the bizarre albino’s six foot-something frame in the red suit and white shoes sacheed up to the booth, Graham snatched the smoochin’ cash off the table with the quickness of a jungle cat.
Saturday March 11, Echo Lounge, Atlanta GA Now this felt like a homecoming. It sounds weird, but back in "the early nineties", we would play this region of the south every year, sometimes twice a year. We got to know and have sex with a bunch of great people, and this marks our first time back to Atlanta since like1994!!! Yeeouch! Hope they remember! It helped that cool local magazine "Stomp And Stammer!" put our mugs in full colour on their front cover, and sure enough we saw lots of old friends from bands like the Subsonics, Nashville Pussy, Servotron, and fans from towns like Athens, Tuscaloosa, Chattanooga, Montgomery, and Birmingham; all places we used to play and have since sorely neglected. It was an ass-wicked, sizzling night, and it felt fabby to be back in Dixie.
Sunday March 12, Cat’s Cradle, Carrboro NC Even though this is a pretty famous venue on the "touring circuit", this was the first time we had ever been here. Our biggest shock was the temperature change - from Atlanta to Carrboro we SUFFERED a temperature DROP of over 50 degrees. Quickly put away were the tube tops and short shorts! Gone were the sleeveless tanks and pool side flip flops! Suddenly it was colder than grandpa’s jizzism on a Saturday night. The club didn’t really live up to the hype either... besides being in a strip mall, the place is a tad cavernous, although we shouldn’t bitch. People had been waiting to see us around here for awhile and kids drove in from all over, including a guy named Mike who hauled ass for over four hours from high in the Appalachians of West Virginia to make it to the show. Giving Mike a run for his money in the super-fan dept was a sweet girl who diligently stood at the very front, singing every single syllable to every single song all three bands played. After the show the Donnas, who usually have a large throng of dudes waiting for autographs, had an unsually huge crowd of card-carrying Girl-Band-Geeks patiently waiting, posters, CDs and Sharpies in hand. A couple of weird Satan-buddies right out of Wayne’s World gave Donna R a weird ring with a black stone in it which they promised was "cursed with black fuckin’ magic, man!!" I think she went and took a massive dump, threw the ring in her shit, and then flushed it down the toilet.
Monday May 13, day off! The reader will notice that we have now basically been on tour for two weeks and this is the first day off. Shit mama!! After spending most of the day in the two blocks that make up downtown Chapel Hill, we decided to make for the Carolina Coast and take in the wild Atlantic surf. It took us a little longer to get there than anticipated, and once we reached "Nag’s Head", a tiny sand spit right near Kitty Hawk, we realized the season hadn’t even started and pretty much everything was still shut down and COLD! We stay in an absolutely DISGUSTING and we’re pretty sure haunted "Comfort" Inn, but it had an unabridged few of the white sand beach and Atlantic Ocean beyond, so yeah we complained, but not that much. The TV had VH1 so we popped a bottle of the Donnas’ champagne, watched a documentary on Dr. Dre and passed out, strewn about the room like alchoholic rag dolls.
Tuesday May 14, The Black Cat, Washington DC Now this was a gig! After spending a peaceful day driving up the scenic Bay Of Cheasapeake (where, as Jeffy noted by many passing tombstones, residents bury their family members in the yard - no joke!), we pulled into Washington and had one of the best shows of the tour. A great night: old pals Erin Smith (Bratmobile) and her brother Don (co-editors of Brady Bunch zine "Teenage Gang Debs") honoured us by judging the dance contest, the club had the European delicacy of a fooze ball table (Nick and an ecstatic Donna C beat Dave and Jeffy), Donna R and her guitar joined us for "Kings Of The Party", we reaquainted ourselves with old friends from the Make Up, Screeching Weasel / The Mopes, and wished that we had met and had sex with the Rondelles. The Black Cat was (almost) all good luck tonight!
Wednesday May 15, Maxwell’s, Hoboken NJ There are some places we really look forward to playing. Moncton New Brunswick, Green Bay Wisconsin, Atlanta Georgia, and definitely right here in Hoboken New Jersey, the birthplace of baseball and Frank Sinatra. When we first toured through the east coast in 92 we played here and made a bunch of friends. Here it is eight motherfuckin years later and lot of them were here again. Betty Colatrella, Blair Buscareno, Todd Abramson, Ira Robbins, the Bluesman, Frank and Heather and lots more. Add the reunions to the fact that the last time we played here was the infamous eve Maxwell’s burst into flames while we were on stage, shutting the club down for months to come, and the stage was set for a for an event of ‘68 Comeback proportions. Sure enough, the Maxwell’s and the crowd didn’t disappoint, and we had a fantastic night. The show was sold out weeks in advance, and everyone was singin’ and dancin’ and having a ball. Dan Panic from the Plus Ones judged the dance contest, the Donnas did a photo shoot for Spin in Maxwell’s dank little basement, and we found out that our ol’ NYC pal Malibu Lou of Melted Records apparently has a massive cock. Oy veh! The night time is always the right time at Maxwell’s!
Thursday May 16, Trocadero Theatre, Philadelphia PA We’ve had incredible shows at this venue in the past, some of our most successful ever, playing with the Mr. T Experience and the Queers at different times, but unfortunately this one got off on the wrong foot. Upon arrival we were immediately treated like yesterday’s barf by the club staff, treatment that would have easily destroyed any other band’s set. Luckily you’re reading a SMUGGLERS tour diarya here folks, and it takes a lot more than a cro-magnon stage crew armed with fag jokes to get us off our game! Hey now! Bring em on asshole, I need some new ones!! Fags are great! Donna F judged the dance contest, Nick kicked my knee out on stage, and we got to hang out with a bunch of the kids from our last Philly show from the historic ‘group photo’ that landed inside the Donnas’ "Get Skintight" album. (See Philadelphia, Nov. 98).
Friday May 17, The Roxy, New York NY We ask you: does it get any better than... forming a band when you’re sixteen to play maybe one show, and eleven years later getting to play a Friday night in New York City with the Donnas AND Joan Jett And The Blackhearts!?!? Nope. No way! SHIT ON ME! We could bust up tomorrow and we’d retire happy after this one. It was a 2,500 sold-out in advance St. Patrick’s Day show in an old disco club on Manhatten’s west side, considered to be the "anchor" date of the tour, something every other show on the itinerary is booked around. There was such a build up to this night that Autumn (the Donnas aforeskinmentioned multi-talented tour manager) started having "New York strategy meetings" before each of the last three shows leading up to this. The "load in" to the venue was at 11:00AM!!! It was snowing, and after dropping off the amps we found we had the day to play in New York so off we split. Nick and I got haircuts at a Cuban barbershop, and pumped rod at Heather and Frank’s gym, Graham and Dave went jogging in Central Park, and Jeffy and the Plus Ones shopped for records and recreational drugs in Greenwich Village. By the time the doors opened there was a massive line up two blocks long and ten people thick, and soon the place was chaotically packed, the way it would remain the rest of the night. It was a big gig for everyone involved. All the Donnas’ parents flew in for the show, as well as people from Lookout, our booking agency and the Donnas’ management. The Donnas spent the day with MTV, and even us Smugglers had lots of interviews to do. Rockpile magazine, and... uh... Barf Bag zine #2... you name it buddy! Once we finally got on stage it was pretty amazing. A sea of people surrounded us on three sides, and even though the monitors were rumbling like the butt of that little Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez after a bad taco, we did our best to remain in control and get through the set. As a St. Patrick’s day treat, before the show we all signed a soiled green pair of Nick’s boxer shorts, throwing them out to the lucky winner who answered our trivia question "name the Canadian who starred with Joan Jett in ‘The Light Of Day’". It was kinda hard to pick a winner since 2,500 people all screamed "MICHAEL J. FOX!!!" in unison, which was pretty wild to get back in your face. I thought it was a hard question! Donna F judged the dance contest again and chose a cool couple wearing matching Beverly Hills t-shirts, and Donna R charged up on stage for our finale of "Kings Of The Party" by New York rockers Brownsville Station. Ladies and gentlemen, what a night. The Donnas killed ‘em, but it was hard to get a good look in since there was a couple thousand people between the dressing room and the stage. Needless to say there was plenty of action backstage to keep us occupied, as Autumn’s love of red wine and the stress of this show had a head on collision. She was wino-drunk and mean as a wolverine. Soon she was swiggin’ straight from the bottle and several times slurred angrily at different Smugglers to "go to fuckin’ hell", "get the fuck outta my way" and to "fuckin’ bite me eh!". Joan Jett’s show was incredible. Pure rock ‘n’ roll heaven. Awesome. She knows how to put on a show because she knows what her fans want and her fans want the hits! She opened with "Bad Reputation" and never looked back, except to yell at her roadies. "Light Of Day", "Crimson And Clover", "I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll", "Androgynous", "Everyday People" and "I Hate Myself For Loving You" sounded incredible and the crowd loved it. Even my aunt and uncle, in like, their forties and very, very far removed from punk rock, were stunned.
Oh yeah, and the Plus Ones got their van towed and it cost them the tune of $300 USD to get it back. Hey, that’s New York!
Sat March 18, Middle East, Cambridge MA If it means anything to anybody reading this who was actually at this show, THIS was one of our very favourite shows of the tour. Great dancin’, cool crowd-jumping jacks, lots of good moves, and a lot of fun to play all the way through. We met the dudes from the Real Kids, were given a batch of Elvira comics, and had two SWEET mamas win the dance contest. Their was one freaky thing about tonight. After we got back to the place we were staying, luckily just a few blocks from the club, in my usual Cambridge "post-show good-time booze up with Harvard students" I realized to my horror that I had LOST our merchandise money, on this one of the biggest nights of the tour. Dave and I rushed back to the club, where after banging on the door for five minutes and almost giving up, the middle aged couple who own the Middle East opened up. They weren’t gonna let me in but I pleaded with them and, thank god, they let me downstairs, and the three of us searched the club. We looked the place over about four times and found nothing, it was now like 4:00AM and we had given up. As we were walking up the stairs to leave, out of the corner of my eye I spotted our little green folder on the floor by the soundbooth. Somehow, our small billfold stuffed with cash was overlooked by 500 people, twenty staff and five cleaning crew. THANK GOD! After hugging and kissing the owners repeatedly, Dave and I went back to our Cambridge crash pad and had a very sound sleep.
Sun March 19, The Mohawk, Buffalo NY This is a tiny little rock’n’roll pub, and was by far and away the smallest venue of the tour. Needless to say it was totally sold out, and needless to say the owner/doorman was stunned and furious when I honoured a quote I gave to the entertainment weekly and handed him our guest list with the entire 24 man roster of my beloved Buffalo Sabres on it (second only to the Canucks) . Lucky for me the Sabres were on the road. As this show was so close to Canada, lots of fellow citizens showed up but most couldn’t even get in! Some of our good pals from St Catharines (‘the banger’, see St Catharines Feb 00) reportedly paid buddy the doorman $40 US each to get into the show!! The other event in Buffalo that day was their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, so this lunch bucket bunch was soused from the get go and just got more plastered as the night went on. It was a volatile crowd. Here’s just two examples: #1, During our show, people were jammed right up to the front and could barely move. Nick noticed one guy looking particularly freaked out and leaned over to him, asking if he was ok. The poor lad replied "the fuckin’ guy beside me just pissed on me". Apparently the washroom was just too far away for one fan, so he unzipped, pulled out his cock and PISSED right there on the packed dance floor, right in front of us, while we played! The guy who got pissed ON, felt it, turned to his side and SAW the cock and piss hitting his leg!!! And he didn’t do anything but tell Nick!! He said it wasn’t worth it and "once someone starts pissing...". I guess it’s cool that he didn’t retaliate, but I think it’s safe to say that if someone pissed on me I would raise bloody violent hell down on their cock hard. #2, Throughout our show, people were yelling requests, but when we’re not ‘headlining’ we can only do so many because the shows are usually on a strict schedule, and we gotta get in the hits, right!?! As the set drew to a conclusion, the ‘tone’ of the requests grew angrier and angrier, so we tried to satisfy the crowd by squeezing in a couple more. Once we had finished, I was staggering off stage when I guy reached up, grabbed me and yanked me towards him.
"You better get the FUCK back up there and play ‘Your Mom’s The Devil’ or yer a fuckin’ dead man, SHITBAG!!" That was my cue to yank myself back on stage and get the hell out of there. Ah, Buffalo. You’re a tough ol’ gal! See you soon, but next time not so rough! Oh yeah, our dance contest winner tonight was the very interesting character "Tooth Decay Jay" from Rochester NY.
Monday March 20, Club Laga, Pittsburgh PA Let’s go... straight to Steeltown! For those who’ve never been, it’s a very industrialized burgh surrounded by steep hillsides and connected by a myriad of bridges and tunnels. And tonight it was pouring. Not just a constant rain, but a constant, heavy, dark, soaking rain. But it could piss over Pittsburgh ten times as hard and not dampen our spirits, because tonight we were playing with the Fastbacks. Rabid fans of the Fastbacks and the Smugglers will know that we’re fast friends with the Fastbacks’ genius guitarist and songwriter Kurt Bloch. Besides being a pal for the last ten years or so, he’s also produced our last three releases, including "Rosie". We hadn’t seen him since and we worked it out that we hadn’t played with the Fastbacks since 1991 (!!!) when both of us opened a Fugazi show! Goodbye Bird! Anyhow, here both bands were, in the year 2000 on a rainy Monday night in Pittsburgh. Another shit hot night, highlighted by Donna F judging our dance contest, and ending it by making out with ME, on stage, shoving her tongue right down my throat! FINALLY one of us got some action from a Donna! Shit! More on this make out later. Way later. Kurt Bloch bounded up on stage, grabbed a guitar and joined us for "Kings Of The Party" and was really incredible. I mean it was beyond "soloing", beyond "wanking" beyond anything we had ever seen or heard. The man is a manical genius. His presence during our finale was a teeny prelude of what was to come from the Fastbacks. They put on a clinic. What a show! It was like classical music! Mozart if he was a punk!! After twenty years together, the Fastbacks have just put out their best album ("The Day That Didn’t Exist") and still put on an amazing show. Inspirational. I hope we’re that good after twenty years, cuz we ain’t after eleven! We stayed with the dance contest winner who had a wife, two cute kids and two wild dogs. One was a wiry, quick as lightening miniature greyhound and the other was a vastly overweight roly poly Australian sheepdog. Both mutts were very affectionate and kind of two-timed you with "dog-love". The sheepdog would ram his nose in your crotch and start licking while the little greyhound would literally dash up your body, jump on your face and stick his entire snout into your mouth, licking at a frantic pace. We got pictures. It was bizarre.
Tuesday March 21, Bernie’s Distillery, Columbus OH What it DIDN’T say on our tour itinerary about this show was this venue’s full name: Bernie’s Distillery... and BAGELRY. Basically, it was a basement with a very low ceiling and a tiny stage, half the place being a bar, the other a bagel joint. The place was totally jammed packed, and for some reason, certainly more than other nights on this tour, the crowd went over the top INSANE for the bands. The Plus Ones barely made it off the stage, and we had a dangerously fab show. It TOTALLY fun, completely out of control and wreckless. The kids were going apeshit. Since the stage was only about a half foot high if that, the bagelry workers were soon employed as security to form a human "bagel-chain", aprons, bagelry shirts and all, across the front to keep kids from banging into us onto the stage. And these bagel men and ladies worked their asses off. There was a group of very rambunctious punks from Dayton Ohio who knew the words to every one of our songs (one of them won the dance contest) who, pretty innocently, were inadvertantly and constantly elbowing the owner’s wife in the back of the head as she desperately gripped her co-workers’ wrists to keep the chain alive. And if these bagel chainers thought the crowd was wild for us, they had no idea the magnitude of the cyclone that hit them when the Donnas started. Total chaos. It became so out of control, that punks kept bursting throught the bagel chain, flying headlong into the Donnas, knocking them flat on their skintight hot butts. The constant abuse, beatings and torturous heat had the bagel chain gang collasping left and right, only to be trampled by the boots of the slamming Columbians. One dude tried to climb onto the stage by monkeying it on the exposed wires in the ceiling, only to grab onto a live wire and be thrown to the floor in a shower of sparks and beer. They climbed on the PA, toppling it like children’s blocks. The frothing mob eventually lay waste to what was left of the bagel security, took over the stage and pinned the Donnas against the back wall so they couldn’t even play any longer! Like a pack of wild dogs, the Ohio punx surged towards the Donnas, completely unprotected by the six near-dead employees in their now-tattered, booze and blood splattered aprons. The Donnas literally threw down their instruments and ran. They raced up the stairs, onto the street and straight into their van, hitting "all lock" and soon as they were all safely inside. It was like "A Hard Day’s Night" meets "The Island Of Doctor Moreau".
Wednesday March 22, Peabody’s Down Under, Cleveland OH It was back to the Cleveland Flats tonight, a disgusting "designated party strip" along the river. We were immediately hustled by a guy violently needing "just a couple of bucks for gas" while loading into the stinky club. As we put all of our suits and boots in the upstairs dressing room, we noticed an intense heat right outside the backstage door, assuming someone was cranking the temperature to warm the place up. The odd thing was the hallway was SO hot it felt like a sauna, and the door knob to the dressing room was too hot to touch! Nonetheless, there were lots of unbothered employees around so none of us really made any mention. About five minutes before the Plus Ones were scheduled to go on, everyone in the club heard an explosion. Suddenly a five foot wide waterfall of brown water burst through the ceiling above the stage, pouring all over the equipment. Upstairs in the dressing room, the explosion happened right outside the door, with an assortment of Donnas and Smugglers in the room having a booze party. Nick ventured to open the door and was immediately sprayed in the face with brown water, causing everyone in the room to scream "it’s shit water!" The entire hallway was a wall of dirty liquid, and it was coming in fast under the door Nick quickly slammed back shut. From the taste of the brown suds all over Nick’s shocked face, he proclaimed that it wasn’t shit, so Dave hastily reasoned that "it must be beer! It’s Guinness!!" But as the cheers died down Nick explained no, it was just rusty, gross tap water, but it was still rushing into the backstage room fast and furious, and pouring down onto the stage in a muddy brown torrent, flowing over the edge and rushing along the floor to the panicked audience, all scrambling to get up on chairs and tables. No one could get upstairs to get the band members out, and as the water level got higher and higher in the dressing room, members of the Donnas and Smugglers had to climb up on couches, tables and chairs. Soon what seemed like the entire Cleveland fire department roared up, sirens blaring. We let them know the bands were trapped, so three of them rushed through the wall-of-water-staircase and burst into the room to the cheers of the band members inside, who by this time were calming their nerves dowing shots of the Donnas’ whiskey and pretty much regaining their party-time, resolved to wait out a rescue. They posed for photos with firemen, put on the fire hats, the whole deal. All Donna A wanted was to be carried down the stairs by a fireman, but alas, like Mary Tyler Moore, she had to make it on her own. After the water was finally turned off, it was revealed that the club’s water main had burst due to the extreme HEAT from upstairs! And of course the water main was RIGHT above the stage and RIGHT across from the dressing room door. Needless to say, the show was cancelled, so until next time, Cleveland. And like the flooded-out venue we played in Austin Texas in March of 99, for the second time ever, NO ONE asked us why we wore "those stupid boots".
Thursday March 23, Magic Stick, Detroit MI Before pulling out of Cleveland we made the obligatory stop at the incredible Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame, and then it was up the Michigan peninsula to make the return to Detroit. The Motor City has always been good to us, and this time we played this really cool venue that was one part rock’n’roll club, one part pool hall, one part bowling alley and one part restaurant. Tonnes of people showed up, including lots of good-to-see Canadians. We had a solid, entertaining time, and sold a rude abundance of merchandise. Members of Kid Rock showed up to see the Donnas and gave them all sorts of shit, including plush jackets, hats, tshirts, you name it. Autumn, the Donnas tour manager, really hit it off with the Kid Rock guys, bowling til dawn and drinking so much red wine she puked most of it out on the side of the Donnas’ van as they tried to find their hotel. Oh, and yeah, us Smugglers stayed with two WILD Michigan girls. Owww!!! Too bad I put my glasses, a v-neck and my green plaid pants in the morning, since the ladies looked at me as if I had suddenly become Urquel.
Friday March 24, Metro, Chicago IL This was another one of those tour "anchor dates" and though it was a huge venue, the Donnas, like everywhere else, are HUGE here and the place was sold out in advance. The thing is, the Smugglers have already played the Metro, way, way back NINE years ago in 1991, with the Young Fresh Fellows on one of our very first tours. It was nice to be back for such a packed night. We did a cool interview with a rat puppet named Ratso for a Chicago cable access TV show called "Chick A Go Go", and saw old friends like shutterbug Marty Perez, Jughead from Screeching Weasel (no Ben), Marc from the Coctails, the Mekons, and our old friend Jake Silker. We stayed with Jake and his girlfriend in their cool little apartment. Two very sexy kids that I would like to have a three-way with!
Saturday March 25, Concert Cafe, Green Bay W IGreen Bay’s another Smugglers strong-hold ... or maybe just a flat out
rock ‘n’ roll strong-hold... even though we’ve been After the show, Nick and the Chicken went back to the bar while the rest of us went to the hardcore porn shop conveniently located right beside the all ages Concert Cafe. I caught Donna C checkin’ out the price tag on what appeared to be at least a three foot long, humungous black dildo called "The Pissflaps Poker"!! I was shocked.
Sunday March 26, First Avenue, Minneapolis MN The last time we played THIS huge place was with the Queers and Dillinger Four in the smaller adjoining venue (7th Street Entry), and the last time we played the big room was with the Flat Duo Jets in 92. Add nine and two together and you’d get about as many people that were at that show (the place holds 1500 easily). Thankfully, this show was an afternoon gig, which can sometimes be weird but this one was red hot. (And I say "thankfully" cuz tonight the Academy Awards were on which we were luckily able to catch after the show). There was a lot of energy for a non-nighttime affair, so much so that I managed to split my pants wide open, right down the ass crack, during a particularly violent scissorkick. Luckily alls anyone could see was my thoroughly shit-stained show-gonch. It could have been a lot worse, since my plan that afternoon was to go "bare-back" (no underwear) because by this point of the tour I was even running out of DIRTY underwear. I forgot to take em off, thank god, or my brawny ballsack would have been hangin’ out for all of Minnesota to gander in amazement at. Our dance contest winners tonight were a nice teenage farming couple that drove their pick ‘em up truck all the way from South Dakota for the show.
Monday March 27, day off, Iowa City IA The reader will notice that this is but our SECOND day off of the whole tour. The Donnas wanted oh so desperately to shop at the massive Mall Of America, and much to our raised eyebrows, so did our drummer Graham, so we swapped Autumn for Graham and hit the thrift store backroads to Iowa City, Iowa. Autumn entertained us all the way there with wild stories about her life so far... topless dancing in Japan, house fires in Nashville, sex in LA. By the time we rolled into IC we all had raging hard ons, and these weren’t just your average long-drive piss boners, either. Once in town we were able to stay at Autumn’s swanky hotel room while she stayed with some friends in town. That night Nick and I drove into cool little Iowa City and caught the shot-nearby "Boys Don’t Cry". We left the theatre looking at the locals in a slightly different light.
Tuesday March 28, Gabe’s Oasis, Iowa City IA We were kinda wondering why the hell we had a gig in a city none of us had ever really heard of until we realized what a huge university town it is. Iowa State seems to be famous for pretty much two things: literary graduates who have gone on to become famous writers, and the college’s very successful wrestling program. We had the day in town so we did everything: fixed my pants at the tailors, and then... laundrey, drugstore, comic book shop, record store, thrifting, florist, library, doctor, pretty much every restaurant in town, more movies, and of course Taco Bell. The show was stuffed with students and VERY hot. While we were playing the Donnas showed their usual amazing support and danced in the crowd, and Donna A told me later it looked like I was about to have a heart attack any second. This is not a look I’m working on. We stayed with some nice punk dudes named Joel and Ryan, and though everybody was starting to get a little sick, we realized we were almost in the home stretch.
Wednesday March 29, St. Louis MO We’ve always had a blast the three times we’ve played this city, home to Chuck Berry and Ike Turner! We usually play up around the university but tonight’s show was right downtown, almost at the Arch. A couple of us went searching for a downhome dinner of genuine St. Louis baby back ribs and ended up at a greasy little catfish joint. Not only did they not have ribs, but I was chastised by the waitress for ordering a meal of corn on the cob, baked potato and macaroni and cheese. Before she wrote anything down, she glared at me and barked "yo mothafucka, that’s three goddamn mothafuckin’ starches, shiiiiiiit... dumb ass goddamn mothafucka!" Not really catching it the first time, I asked her to please repeat her comment, over and over, until finally Joel from the Plus Ones yelled at me "our server is concerned that your order consists of three starches and therefore is not a balanced meal". I stuck with it out of defiance but was worried that I was going to puke starch for the rest of the night. I don’t even know what starch is - I thought it was something used to wash clothes! The show was awesome, highlighted by a Japanese band called the Lottie Collins, who were on tour in Texas, and flew up to St. Louis specifically to see US! It was very flattering. They all came up on stage and judged the dance contest, and pretty much out-danced everyone on the floor, except the winner, a girl named Harmony who made the drive from Chicago. Our dance contest was even chronicled in a really cool cartoon strip a couple weeks later in the St. Louis weekly! Thanks a lot to cartoonist and Red Square Matt Schultz. It was also a ripe night for hanging out with old friends like Julie St. Louie, Fidgit, and Beatle Bob, who told us all sorts of great stories about Ike and Tina Turner in the early days. And as Bob was rattling on we noticed the first real romance of the tour so far, as, while leaning up against our mini van, we spotted Donna C and Scotty from the Plus Ones makin’ out!! Oh yeah! Tongue action! More on this later....
Thursday March 30, The Bottleneck, Lawrence KS We woke up in St Louis and before making the long drive west across Missouri, we sidled in for breakfast at Chuck Berry’s restaurant, the oddly named "Blueberry Hill". We didn’t see Chuck, but we did see another one of St. Louis’ fave sons having brekkie: Bob "Game Seven" Costas! The "Late, Late Show" guy! The NBA Finals/World Series play-by-play guy... that’s the guy! Do you care? No! I guess we’re in a hot-zone, because the last few locales have been sizzlers for us and Lawrence has always been great too, and not just cuz the town was founded by my (Grant’s) ancestors. No joke! This show was pretty gutsy and out of control, with us flipping and flopping all over the stage, all the equipment and us eventually ending up in a heap. Tonight was our last gig with the Plus Ones, so they all ceremoniously judged the D.C., awarding the trophy to a knarly punk chick. Once again we got to party with a bunch of old friends and new, including Tim Kearns, the Hefners, the Break Ups, lesbian-stripper friends of Nick’s, and Donna R’s dad, the man responsible for teaching her all those tasty rock licks. Donna R’s dad has a song on "The Karate Kid" soundtrack! And even though I later got my hand slammed in the van door, I had a personally wonderful night having the ultimate pleasure of meeting and hanging out with an incredibly cute, funny, sexy girl named Carmen who actually wanted to hang out with me. She taught me how to REALLY kiss and she’s got a tongue piercing! She is "wow"! WHAT A NIGHT!!! She really knows how to give good... advice! And yes, Donna C and Scotty Plus One are a genuine couple! They couldn’t stop necking to say goodbye to each other!
Friday March 31, Ogden Theatre, Denver CO Woah. Over the years we’ve had it pretty rough in Denver. Our first time in the Mile High City, Beez got in a fist fight, igniting a full scale punk rock riot at a black gay disco. And now we’re back on the hot-seat, playing with the truly wild Nashville Pussy. Don’t get us wrong. We LIKE the people in Nashville Pussy. They’re old friends of ours. There’s lots of connections. We used to play with lead singer Blaine’s old band Nine Pound Hammer, guitarist Ryder is from Vancouver, and bassist Corey’s brother Cherokee plays for the Grizzlies, the Vancouver NBA franchise. It’s just the Pussy crowd that kinda scares the shit out of us. This show was just the third of the tour that included another band, and this one was really a Nashville Pussy rally. The confederate flags were flying (which I had taken down for our sets- it’s the Maple Leaf or nothing for us) and the crowd looked like extras from the "Any Which Way But Loose" movies. Something was amiss right from the start. As we started our set we noticed that it was the first show that people weren’t crowded up against the stage in anticipation, even though the show had 1000 + in attendance. And though we benefitted from the amazing presence of Corey Parks judging our dance contest, the overall reaction wasn’t that great. Oddly, we were noticing lots of screaming and hollering from the BACK of the room. We couldn’t figure it out, and while thinking about it I totally screwed up our song"Buddy Holly Convention" to the point where we had to "loop it" for about ten minutes until I could figure out where to start singing again. Finally we did figure what was going on in our song and in the theatre. Much to our disgust, all the under-twenty one fans were rudely segregated up to the balcony, were not allowed to leave, and weren’t even allowed to get to our merchandise table! They couldn’t even dance and were a football field away from the bands! TOTAL BULLSHIT! It meant we were basically playing to a bunch of mostly drunken, angry rednecks waiting for some Pussy, and for once I’m not talking about the Donnas. After the Donnas got done kicking their collective saggy denim asses, the crowd got what they wanted and went cornhole-crazy for the NP. Corey got the violence brewin’ as she brought all holy hell down on her fans if they dared get too close. Plenty of times she booted guys and gals right in the chops, sending them head over heels into the crowd. Soon blood, guts and Pussy was everywhere. Fights were breaking out left and right, spilling throughout the venue and into the lobby, creating a truly violent vibe that hadn’t been even remotely present for any other show of the tour. After the show, even Nashville Pussy readily admitted that their Denver crowd can be... um... rather "rough". Not sure how many more Denver shows we can survive....
Saturday April 1, DV8, Salt Lake City UT Finally! This is it! After a ten hour haul from danger-prone Denver we managed to pull in to the Moron capital - excuse me - the MorMON capital of the world for our last show of the tour. Salt Lake has been another city that’s always been good to us. We happened to hit on the annual world-wide assembly of Mormons going down THIS very weekend, so out on the streets both sidewalks were packed like Times Square at lunch hour with thousands of very nice looking families in dressed up in their Sunday best. I’m talking millions of Mormons!! They packed out EVERY restaurant in the city! We couldn’t eat!! The show didn’t quite have the feel-good vibe of the shiny happy people of SLC’s streets, however. Right from the start, some idiot decided to taunt our poor fill-in bassist Jeffy. This guy was yellin’, chuckin’ stuff, and eventually leaned on to the stage and took a swing, landing a punch to Jeffy’s leg!! The guy was hauled out pretty quick but put up a fight, and in the ensuing melee, a bouncer tripped, fell down the stairs and broke his leg so bad the bone stuck out!! Faint!! He had to be rushed to the hospital! Mercy! Even the Donnas didn’t fare all that well on this night, even though we’re used to seeing them play extremely consistent shows no matter what the circumstance. But I suppose like us, they could sense the strange animosity in the some of the crowd and were whiffin’ the sweet smell of home just a few hours away. Once everything had wrapped up, the Donnas, the Smugglers and our agent Margie who booked the whole tour (and lives in SLC) climbed up on stage one more time to pop a few bottles of champagne, toast the tour, and take the all-important "group photos". That would almost be it, until a few minutes later when we were all loading up our vans in the back alley, saying goodbye, when out of nowhere Grant and Donna F let fly sexual tension that, let’s face it, had been building like snot in the desert for the entire tour. We are talking major spontaneous make-out session here, in front of everyone, much to the shock of all. Tongues were slappin’ and teeth were clackin’. We had to be seperated. We went at it again. We were seperated again, me covered in her makeup, and her my saliva, as we climbed into our two vans and waved our final goodbyes.
Thank you Donnas, it was a hell of a tour! Until next time, see you in the front row,
|
Donnas’
aunts, so CAN YOU IMAGINE that one of the Donnas may soon have THE SHATMAN
as her UNCLE!?!? But hey, that’s nothing: on this tour we learned that Donna
A is related to WQRP receptionist LONI "Tits Like Tori Spelling" ANDERSON!!!
That means that Donna A is also related to BURT "Stick" REYNOLDS!!! The show
was simply fabulous and a hell of a way to kick off a tour. The Donnas
kicked ass. At the end of the totally sold out, packed show, the Donnas,
Beez and the X-Files guy all went to Canter’s near the Farmer’s Market, and
the rest of us went to ol’ pals Lisa from Buck and Ronnie from the Muffs
place, to suck on the leaky end of a huge bong all night long. We got the
munchies and picked up burritos from a taco stand where "a famous Gram
Parsons photo was taken, yeah yeah!" - Ronnie.
After
the show finally died down, we were able to go back to Joan’s swingin’
after-party, and once she finished signing a girl’s naked breasts, we met
her, newly shaved head and all. We thanked her for choosing to work with
Canadians, and Nick even smooched her hot ‘n’ heavy!! Nick has kissed the
Queen Of Rock ‘n’ Roll!
sadly neglecting Green Bay for the upwards of three years! Nothing’s really
changed in Green Bay, except the Packers don’t contend for the Super Bowl
anymore, and fewer kids have been coming out to shows, which is too bad,
because as I have said in the past, the calendar line up at this venue often
reads like a great record collection. Hats off to Time Bomb Tom for keeping
such a great thing goin’ in Green Bay! Attendance was not a problem tonight.
450 plus kids turned up and it was great to be back; this was certainly one
of the top three shows of the tour. It’s always nice when it seems like the
whole town knows the songs from the new record. A kid named "Murray" even
dressed up as a Smuggler, all the way down to the personalized rubber boots!
Our celebrity dance contest judge tonight was Green Bay’s own "Rythm
Chicken", a guy who sets up a drum kit outside the Concert Cafe, takes off
all his clothes down to his boxer shorts, then puts on a huge costume head
of a rabbit (not a chicken) and then does drum solos for the kids entering
the show. Yeah. Tonight The Man shut down the Rythm Chicken early, so Nick
and Dave befriended him and boozed up together at the bar next door. Sure
enough, later that night the Chicken was on stage with us in full costume. A
very tan young maiden just back from spring break in Cancun won the dance
contest.