Arriving in separate vehicles (after the trailer debacle; don't ask) we find that we'll be unable to crash for free at Baloney's buddy's, the Cactus Huggers, place due to the NW-equivalent of a hurricane we got hit with Friday night. Seems most places are booked to the gills, too, there in the downtown/University area. Megan (I hope I'm spelling that right) the bartender at the Monkey busts her ass in trying to find us a place by making lotsa calls, continuously checking in with us on it all, and basically being a decent human being. Why more show-related folks aren't like that I don't know but her efforts were well appreciated by us all. Baloney managed to find a great deal, tho', so we got an $88 room for all 4 of us a couple blocks from the venue. Said room didn't involve manass-to-manass action (involuntary, of course), too, which was a nice change. Of course, tell a skinny guy he's gonna share a room with two large guys - large guys who love to crank the A/C in hotel rooms especially after sweating out the equivalent of three children during a set - and he'd better have his own blanket. I think we gave Dr. C.H.O.A.D pneumonia but that's what he gets for not having an Artic-ready layer of protective blubber.
The Monkey's not huge but it is wonderfully isolated from nearby frat infestation. They even take special, Misfats-prescribed drink orders. "Cozy" would be a better word for the place, I think. At least they covered one of the pool tables pre-set to help focus folks there on the bands. The stage is floor-level and the crowd setup is covered by two rows of folding tables and a bunch of chairs. It felt a little '68-comeback-ish...
Stay Tuned and us were the only bands playing so we kicked off by 10:30pm. ST has a healthy amount of gear to setup (which they do with blurry efficacy) so I think it took them nearly a half hour just for that feat. But they were soon into their set, wowing a crowd that had obviously never heard them. That part makes me a little sad, in that a band of their caliber and quality don't have a fanatical following that would embarrass other bands, especially in their hometown. A "prophet is only without honor..." I suppose. They are updating some of their old faves for a variety of reasons and have added some new tunes since last we played together. Most fitting was their version of "The Munsters" theme, dedicated to the recently departed "Grampa" Al Lewis. They stupefied, amazed, overcame, and rawked for the better part of an hour. And like Foil stated to me, "This never gets old, man."
After a relatively quick takedown/setup we got stage-ready in the only private place we had access to: the men's room. It's better than some places we've changed (parking lots, stairwells, that weird space in Ash St.) but, due to the Stygian river of Eternal Urine Stank, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant. Our makeup taking a floor dive during this frenzied activity didn't do much to sell me on it, either.
We make our way back up to the stage and launch right into our set. It only takes me getting to the 2nd song in the set to screw up - so much so that we have to start the song over. That's what happens when I clamor for adding more than one new song to the set list. Yet the 50 or so folks in attendance were still appreciative and forgiving. We added, "TV Dinner Casualty," "Hollywood Waffle House," and "In the DriveThru" to the already-prodigious list and they all went off quite well, I think. The last song there is a little more obscure, fitting into the "counted" setlist of, perhaps, the more hardcore Misfits fans; and, as such, it kinda missed its mark since those that are fans of that level tend not to really get our schtick or, at the very least, take it all a bit too seriously. But I like singing it and it's a good "snowball dance" kinda song, something missing (perhaps rightly so?) from our prior setlist.
Exhausted, sweaty beyond belief, and suffering from indigestion (I would still recommend "The Exorcist" burger from across the street but, perhaps, not before a workout) we hang out and chat for awhile with those folks remaining. Thanks to everyone for the kind words of appreciation. The Misfats send that love all the way 'round our own equator (yes, we do have one) and right back at ya'. C.H.O.A.D. and I nearly hurl when ST wanna take us out to eat breakfast - not at the idea, of course, but at the prospect of trying to eat anything at that point. We politely decline and find our way to pass out in our hotel, thankful and full of the good feelings that a quality show with quality folks can give you.
Just a few articles to document our part in the festivities that night:
So this is how the NW MiniTour begins, huh?
Well, come out for the 2nd go-'round on March 4th at Tommy's Club. BE there.
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