April 25, 2008
Tour Blog: Cleveland — American Splendor
This morning, I got up early and went down the street to get a cup of coffee. The weather was nice—not too cold like it’s been lately. So down at the coffee shop, I found myself stuck in a line. I hate waiting in lines, waiting for all them people to stand around figuring out what they want, like they haven’t been standing in line for 10 minutes waiting for other people to decide, time they could have spent looking at the menu board and making a decision. All I want is a damn cup of coffee—no donuts, no scones, none of that shit. Just coffee. And I have wait endlessly.
So as I was standing in line, I got a call on my cell phone. Into the phone, I said, “Hit me.”
“Mr. McDürchstein?” the unfamiliar voice on the other end asked.
“Yes…” I said cautiously.
“My name is Dean Charleston,” the voice said. “I’m from Mildew Records up in Milwaukee.”
“Right, right,” I said. “You stole our friends the Conquistadors.”
“That’s right,” Dean Charleston said without an ounce of guilt.
“So what’s going on, Dean?” I asked.
“Please,” he said. “Call me Mr. Charleston.”
“Hang on a second,” I said. “It’s my turn to order.” Turning to the cashier, I said, “Can I get a large, cream and sugar?”
She nodded, then gestured toward a condiment bar near a trashcan. “You’ll have to do your own,” she said.
I shrugged. “That’s fine. How much will it be?”
She rang it up and said, “A dollar seventy-two.”
I gave her two bucks and told her to keep the change. She seemed happy, even though it was only a quarter (pretty much). While I waited for her to pour the coffee, I got back on the phone, “So what did you want, Mr. Charleston?”
“Well,” Dean said, “we saw an article about you in the newspaper a few weeks ago, and obviously we’ve seen a bunch more since then thanks to your little stunt in Traverse City.”
The cashier handed me the coffee cup. I said, “Thanks,” and took it over to the condiment bar.
“So get to the point, Charleston,” I said into the phone.
“Your reputation has reached a level of notoriety that has made us very interested,” Dean Charleston said. “As you know, Mildew Records strives to have top musicians on the cutting-edge of the industry, musicians who don’t make creative compromises. Free spirits who will—”
“Save it,” I said. “We’re not interested.”
“But I’ve read recently that your label folded,” he said. “I know you’re having trouble finding distribution—”
“We…okay, we are, yeah.”
“We can take care of that,” Charleston said. “We’d like to set up a meeting at our satellite office in Los Angeles, whenever you’re back from your tour.”
“We’ll probably be back April 30th,” I said. “But we’ll be exhausted and jet-lagged, so any time after May 1st—”
“How’s May 5th?”
“Works for me. Two p.m.?”
“Better make it three,” Charleston said.
“Fine.”
“Looking forward to it,” Charleston said and hung up.
I used my cell phone’s organizer feature to add the appointment. I added cream and sugar to my coffee, then left the coffee shop.
Walking up the street, I started to think about life. When shit seems fucked, suddenly something good happens. It’s weird how that works.
The show at The Axis went well. It was good, not great, and mostly uneventful. A nice change of pace considering the rest of the tour. We’re on the last leg of the tour, so I hope all the Ohioans check us out in Columbus and Dayton.
Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 25, 2008 6:16 PM
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