Vancouver
For those who think it's all fun and games, here's another tour dismount tale.
Everybody loves Vancouver, so naturally I was looking forward to my first visit for this last show of a Secret Chiefs 3 / Dengue Fever tour. Both bands crossed the border from Bellingham in our separate vans without much ado.
The region seemed quaint and idyllic as we approached. But once in the heart of the city it became clear the venue, while pleasant inside, was in the heart of a fairly sketchy neighborhood. The staff at the venue insisted we take everything out of the van, including all our personal luggage, just to be safe. Yeesh.
Something I ate for dinner - a veggie tofu sandwich - didn't agree with my gut. At first I thought I just felt impossibly sleepy, which is normal for the ends of tours. So I got burnt coffee at a nearby Tim Horton's which totally didn't help.
I powered through our set, feeling worse by the minute. And there were plans to have SC3 come up and take solos during one of the jammier Dengue Fever tunes to celebrate our last gig together. They usually closed with that number, but luckily this time it was the third song of their set. I woozily noodled over C minor and then stumbled backstage to deal.
I sank fast. The noise and chaos of the club began to cause me physical pain. I got the keys to the van, now empty, to lie down somewhere quiet (except for all the creepy street noise).
The discomfort wasn't passing, and after an hour of hellish denial I came to terms with the situation. I exploded out of the van but somehow had the presence of mind to ensure I left it locked. I then stumbled into the alley, and sprayed projectile vomit everywhere. Many, many servings. Yep - there I was making this already terrible neighborhood even worse.
Now high on adrenaline I emerged into the club. The show was long over, and most of the gear already packed up. I mustered enough strength to say goodbye to the Dengue Fever gang now that our adventures were over, and help with the remaining load out. I clutched my gut as we swerved through town toward the hostel.
I continued purging throughout the night. I didn't eat at all the next day. I managed to make it through the border crossing and the typical secondary search process though Toby, simultaneously fascinated and horrified, noted how my face was literally green.
Half the band split on their flights home. However I left my 4runner in Seattle this whole tour in order to transport all the gear and remaining bandmates back to the Bay Area. And so I was stuck dealing with many errands and lifting heavy objects and whatnot. This included unloading an entire band's worth of gear as my core tempature dropped in the icy night air, and then being the tetris master as we repacked it all in my 4runner. Completely destroyed by malnourishment during all the above activity, I finally got to crash out on a couch once everything was sorted.
The next day Trey, Timba, and I drove the stuffed 4runner all the way from Seattle to Oakland, which included snow over the Siskiyou summit. Given all the above my body was in a weakened state and thus I caught a horrible cold which got worse and worse during the 15 hour journey home.