Our 3-day run with Mike Tramp’s White Lion started with an 8-hour haul north, to Paw Paw, MI, where we were scheduled to play the Warner Vineyards.

Jean Claude Damme Van was still resting comfortably under my back deck, so we saddled Matt’s SUV with our trusty 5’ X 8’ trailer, laden with all of our gear, and as much merch as we could carry, before hitting the road at the entirely un-Rock N’ Roll hour of 5:30AM.

The day’s drive was relatively uneventful, with Mr. Andersen at the helm. Under his expert guidance, we rolled into Paw Paw with enough time to spare that we could get checked-in to our rooms, at a hotel less than a mile from the venue. As it turns out, Tramp & co. were staying there too, though it wasn’t their extended-cab pickup we encountered in the parking lot covered in what I think were giant magnetic White Lion decals. Nope, that whip belonged to a couple following them on tour, for several shows. You can’t beat that kinda fandom. Awesome.

We loaded in at the venue, not long after the headliner had wrapped up their soundcheck, and found both the band, and the entire staff at Warner Vineyards to be about as accommodating as any support act that almost no one in this particular town had ever heard of could hope for. We’d played with Mike before, so we knew he was a down-to-earth cat, but as it turns out, his whole band were every bit as cool, and we felt welcome right from the jump.

Come to find out, we weren’t actually COMPLETELY unknown in Paw Paw after all. My buddy Jason Lee, a radio personality from that neck of the “Michiana” woods, and the first guy to ever play my old band Best Of Seven on the radio in Central Illinois, some 25 years ago, was on hand, along with his wife Jen, and some friends he’d turned on to us. Scott Benting, one half of the Narcissistic Music Disorder podcast was there too, bearing gifts no less. It was great to see you guys.

We threw down what I’d consider a pretty solid performance, despite being a bit fatigued from the miles, and our early start. We had 45 minutes to do our job, and make it count, and I’d like to think we did just that. If not, we had 2 more shows to prove our mettle.

The White Lion guys came on just after sunset, and delivered a hit-heavy set(with a couple of curve-balls thrown in for good measure), punctuated by some storytelling from Mr. Tramp - wistful, self-deprecating, and hilarious recollections of a life spent in the trenches. The crowd ate it up.

A few beers and a load-out later, we were back at the hotel, ready to catch up on the sleep we’d missed the night before. Thankfully, Kenny had packed some Jameson, otherwise my mind might never have shut down for the evening.

One “continental breakfast” later, we were off to our digs in Valparaiso, en route to the next engagement at the Hobart Art Theater, in downtown Hobart, IN.This place was badass too, a proper old school theater with a sound system designed to rattle your skull. I made sure to add some stickers to the green room’s graffiti, and Kenny even plastered one of The Die Youngs’ decals on the backstage mirror.

We were a bit more bright-eyed for Night 2, and did what we do in as spectacular a fashion as we were able, for a crowd who were clearly hungry for some straight-up Rock N’ Roll. Damn, I miss people & places like this - we need more of them.

Back to our shady Super 8, with what appeared to be a cast of homeless night (and day) watchmen. I’m not sure what that was all about, but I’m fairly certain the guy on patrol when we arrived was not on the establishment’s payroll, just wandering in circles around the building’s perimeter, while the morning shift change saw his replacement spending more time fishing cigarette butts from the trash out front than actually on a beat. True crime-stoppers.

Rizzo & I took advantage of the breakfast offerings, which was pretty much either yogurt or a honeybun(I love both, so I had both.), and as long as there’s coffee, the day can begin, right? There was coffee.

We had a 4-hr. trek to New Berlin, IL, punctuated by a sit-down lunch at Monical’s Pizza along the way. Monical’s! IYKYK.

We arrived at Danenberger Family Vineyards in time for Matt to back our trailer into a telephone pole before soundcheck, which took place under the bluest of skies. 

Alas, the minute we took the stage, some 4 hours later, just after said sun had punched the clock, those skies decided to open up and do their best to drown  us, the audience, and all of our gear & merch.

Should we wait it out? Screw it! Play on, players. We just plowed through it, soaked, but thumbing our noses at the likelihood of electrocution. I’ll say this much though - It ain’t easy doin’ this job when you’re drenched, and your instrument feels like it’s covered in adhesive from the precipitation and ensuing humidity. Still, we rolled on, and made it through to the other side.

We hung out after, kissed babies, shook hands, and got a group shot with the White Lion gang before making our overnight drive back to Nashville, so we could all try to enjoy a day off before returning to the “real world” on Monday.

I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t want these shows to end. Our band is at its best when we can get up there and do 45 minutes to an hour of our “hit list”, and leave it all on the stage. As much fun as it can be sometimes, to do the odd cover here & there, and take over a place for the night, I know we’re most effective in that concentrated burst of songs, in n’ out, hit n’ run, “leave ‘em wanting more” scenario. THAT is where we shine, and live to fight another day, without requiring a protracted recovery period.

If I have my druthers, this is what we’ll be doing for the foreseeable future, not simply because it’s fun, but because it makes more sense (from all but the financial standpoint, of course) for us, and where we are in this stage of our lives, and “careers”.

If it doesn’t put a dollar in my pocket, it better put a big smile on my face. We didn’t get rich on this run, but I laughed my ass off for 72 hours. That’s the sh#t I care about these days, and hopefully we have a few more of them ahead of us.

So, thanks to Mike, Marcus, Jerry, Brentt, Joey the Merch Master, and the guys at NTL Productions for letting us tag along for a minute. It was truly an honor. You guys are the best!

Cheers as well to all the folks we bumped into along the way, friends new & old. We hope to see you all again soon.

Be good to each other,
        D.

Ran into this cat, who showed up rocking TGA swag, in Hobart. Great to see you, Terry! Oh yeah, and thanks for the sweet CT shirt, Mr. Benting.