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Happy Heartland Tour -- The Midwest '08 Archives

February 2, 2008

PRESS RELEASE: Happy Heartland Tour

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Lacey’s Relations
1142 Wilshire Blvd.
Suite 600
Los Angeles, CA 90017

FAMILY-FRIENDLY BAND ANNOUNCES TOUR OF MIDWEST

LOS ANGELES, February 2, 2008 — Hot on the heels of their latest single, “Little Darlin’,” Jupiter Starshine Collective has announced a 27-city, two-month tour of America’s Heartland—the Happy Heartland Tour! Each concert will be an all-ages show that will welcome both children and parents as Jupiter Starshine Collective explores its eclectic blend of top-40 pop and experimental “acid rock.”

A list of confirmed bookings follows. Additional dates may be added.

Date	City	Venue
2.14.08	Minneapolis, MN	Club 3 Degrees
2.16.08	Duluth, MN	Encounter
2.23.08	Fargo, ND	Bethel Church
2.27.08	Omaha, NE	Mosaic Community Center
2.29.08	Lincoln, NE	Antelope Park Band Shell
3.1.08	Topeka, KS	Community Youth Home
3.5.08	Wichita, KS	Two Rivers Club
3.7.08	Lawrence, KS	O’Connell Ranch
3.8.08	Kansas City, MO	El Torreon
3.11.08	Springfield, MO	Rare Breed Youth Drop-In Center
3.13.08	Columbia, MO	Intersection
3.14.08	St. Louis, MO	The Billiken Club
3.15.08	St. Louis, MO	The Billiken Club
3.18.08	Des Moines, IA	Ichthus Farm
3.21.08	Iowa City, IA	Buddyline
3.22.08	Dubuque, IA	Colts Community Center
3.27.08	Madison, WI	Alliance
3.29.08	Rhinelander, WI	Towering Pines
4.4.08	Milwaukee, WI	Guiding Light Community Youth Center
4.5.08	Chicago, IL	First Nazarene
4.11.08	Decatur, IL	Millikin University
4.12.08	South Bend, IN	Calvary Temple
4.17.08	Grand Rapids, MI	John Ball Teen Center
4.19.08	Traverse City, MI	Northwestern Michigan College
4.21.08	Fort Wayne, IN	The Harvest
4.24.08	Cleveland, OH	The Axis
4.25.08	Columbus, OH	J. Ashburn Jr. Youth Center
4.27.08	Dayton, OH	Dayton Ecumenical Youth Theatre

###

Press Contact:
Lacey Greenwood
818.655.5000
laceygstring@girthmcdurchstein.com

Written by Lacey Greenwood on February 2, 2008 10:12 AM
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February 15, 2008

Tour Blog: Minneapolis — Sons of Njord

Because of Margo’s recent injuries, we had to fly to Minneapolis instead of driving their in our official tour van and hearse. From there, we intended to rent a van large enough to fit our instruments right the airport. Unfortunately, we ran into something nobody could have anticipated.

An elderly man in a cheap suit and black cap stood at the gate, holding a sign on which ABYSMAL CRUCIFIX was scrawled.

“Huh,” I said.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 15, 2008 11:17 AM
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February 21, 2008

Tour Blog: Duluth — Dog Bites Man

On Sunday morning, Riffs went out for his usual nude jog (although we’re so far up north, he could only make it semi-nude). He stumbled into the motel around 8:15 and collapsed on the floor, and that’s when we all saw it: a blood-soaked right calf, gnarled pink flesh, obvious bite marks.

“Christ, Riffs, what happened?” Carl wondered.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 21, 2008 11:14 AM
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February 24, 2008

Tour Blog: Fargo — The Great White Way

Well, we played the first show of the tour, and it’s only our third confirmed date. I guess that’s progress.

About two hours before the show, Lacey called to let me know that after the show, the mayor of Fargo would have a ceremony giving us a key to the city. Since this was from our official publicist, I figured it was more legitimate than last time. I felt honored receiving the key to a city I’d never set foot in before, and all in honor of my good works and family values.

The show was at the Bethel Church. It was full of kids—mostly young girls, accompanied by their loving daddies—wanting to hear songs like “Little Darlin’.” It made me very uncomfortable playing for so many fathers and daughters after what happened between Renal and I, but we opened with “Little Darlin’” as a tribute to her, and to the real loving relationships between fathers and daughters. After that, things got a little sketchy. The audience did not respond well to “Tongue Quest,” even though we cut the usual live demonstration on account of Margo’s medication making her too nauseous to need my love.

Afterward, the manager of Bethel Church politely informed us that he would not pay us and that we were no longer welcome at his club. I hate it when club managers say that. He kept saying all this crazy stuff about God, too. I didn’t really follow it. I just kept wondering why he was dressed in a gold turtleneck and brown blazer.

On the way down to City Hall, I received a call from Dennis Walaker, a mayor shrouded in mystery (legend has it that he refuses to leave the Hall itself for fear of aides stealing his vast collection of honey and urine, so he hires an impersonator for public events and fortifies said impersonator from attacks by slathering him with a cocktail of peanut butter and vaginal secretions—I’m not saying any of that is in any way true, and therefore is not libelous; it’s just a rumor I heard). He said, without an ounce of mystery, that I would not receive a key to anything. He wouldn’t say it explicitly, I assume for political reasons, but I got the distinct impression that Abysmal Crucifix will not be welcome in Fargo until he retires from office.

Next stop: Omaha!

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 24, 2008 2:17 AM
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February 28, 2008

Tour Blog: Omaha — No Country for Old Men

Fun fact about Omaha: they only love acoustic-based faux-folk indie rock. They love it from the achingly sincere to the achingly bad, irony-twinged to crappiness-twinged. But the sad fact is, they love nothing else. The Saddle Creek fascists haven’t let a truly rocking act anywhere within the city limits in 15 years. We were to be the first ones, but sadly, that came to a tragic end.

When you walk through the streets of Omaha, one of the first things an outsider notices are unusual TV monitors placed on every corner, in every urine-soaked alleyway, in every public lobby—even, no doubt, in people’s homes. These monitors broadcast the emotionally blank, pasty face of Conor Oberst, a constant reminder of the disappointing figure who runs Omaha from an underground lair/recording studio. His face never leaves the screen—never even seems to blink. There are rumors it’s just a loop, but there are more substantial rumors that, once in awhile, differences crop up. Sometime in October, they say, Oberst turned slightly to his right and began to admonish a “Mrs. Evans” for trying to burn a Sorry About Dresden CD. Nobody knows if he was angry that she was trying to make a pirated copy or literally set it on fire.

Nevertheless, his face remains on those screens 24 hours a day, every day, virtually unchanging. For about 20 minutes each year, the face disappears, replaced with the image of the sagging black-curtain backdrop. Legend has it, this is when he records his albums.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 28, 2008 9:22 AM
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February 29, 2008

Tour Blog: Lincoln — Canceled!

As a result of our exploits in Omaha, we regret to inform the fans that we had to cancel our gig in Lincoln. Fortunately, your tickets will not be refunded. We know it’s a bummer, but we invite you to join us in Topeka (it’s only a three-hour drive!) tomorrow night—free of cover charge*. Enjoy!

*Customers will be required to pay a $20 door fee.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on February 29, 2008 3:38 PM
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March 6, 2008

Tour Blog: Wichita — Hunger Pangs

“I’m hungry,” Mikey whined from the back of the van.

“There’s not enough in the tour budget for food,” I explained. “You wanna eat, that’s out of pocket.”

“But you haven’t paid us in months,” Mikey complained.

“Have you done anything worth paying you for?”

“Motherfucker—”

“I will turn this car around!” I snapped.

Mikey sighed and slumped back against the wall of the van.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 6, 2008 7:20 AM
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March 8, 2008

Tour Blog: Lawrence — Wizard of Ozz

Update, 3/11: I am legally obliged to remove the alarming number of Wizard of Oz references contained in my mushroom-based hallucination. I guarantee to you, it was pretty freaky!

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 8, 2008 2:23 PM
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March 9, 2008

Tour Blog: Kansas City — The Day After

“Why is it shuttered?” Mikey asked as we pulled up at the address we received from the El Torreon booking people.

“Christ,” I sighed. “Not again.”

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 9, 2008 11:17 AM
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March 13, 2008

Tour Blog: Springfield — Meth Amp City

The van broke down about halfway between Kansas City and Springfield, so we got stuck in a little backwater Missouri town waiting for it to get repaired. I was a little disappointed that nobody recognized us—after all, Lacey says directionless small-towners are our prime demographic—but you can’t have everything. I did notice something odd, though, as Margo and I waited in the lobby of the auto shop. A doughy, red-haired guy with a straggly beard and a tie-dye Grateful Dead t-shirt stormed into the shop, flopped a pizza down on the counter, and demanded money from the the counter clerk.

The clerk, eyes glazed and moving slowly, pulled open the pizza box. It looked like your standard cheese pizza, albeit cold, but the pizza had something else—something odd—surrounding its crust. Jagged, whitish rocks formed a ring around the pizza.

“Why does it smell like Sequoia Hermann in here?” Margo asked, wrinkling her nose. So she had noticed it, too.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 13, 2008 12:20 PM
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March 14, 2008

Tour Blog: Columbia — The Intersection

The venue we had scheduled for last night was called The Intersection. Based on the name, I figured it’d be some kind of hipper-than-thou electronica club where people get trashed on ecstasy and groove all night long. The fact that Columbia, Missouri, is a college town all but confirmed that fact—but when we all showed up at their building, we were as baffled as they were.

The Intersection building is a huge, old place—very opulent and well-decorated considering they’re a nonprofit. When we walked in and went to the reception desk, Margo—who, thanks to her politeness and intense hotness, has become the head of the band’s communications department until Lacey joins us in St. Louis—introduced us and the receptionist asked, “Who?”

Margo stared, slackjawed. Then it dawned on her: “Oh, we changed our name from Jupiter Starshine Collective.”

The receptionist gave Margo what you could politely call a dirty look, then picked up the phone. “Yeah… we have a situation here.”

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 14, 2008 7:17 PM
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March 15, 2008

Tour Blog: St. Louis, Night One — Lacey Nights

I got into St. Louis early yesterday morning and, to my surprise and annoyance, nobody showed up at the airport to pick me up. I stood curbside with my luggage for 45 minutes, calling Margo every five, but nobody picked up.

Finally, I gave up, grabbed a cab, and headed to a motel in what I can only call an urban war zone. I am not exaggerating when I say, between the freeway and the motel, we passed a smoldering, flipped-over car, dried bloodstains on the street, and a mostly toothless man riding in a shopping cart in the middle of the street, using a broomstick like a paddle.

The motel didn’t look much better. A cesspool from the outside in, I couldn’t imagine the damage it would do to my reputation if word got out that my clients were stuck in such a place.

Written by Lacey Greenwood on March 15, 2008 1:27 PM
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March 16, 2008

Tour Blog: St. Louis, Night Two — Parental Advisory

After the awesomeness of last night’s show, I decided to check out the local newspapers to see how the public reacted to our genius. I found this:

Click image for a larger view

What…the fuck?

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 16, 2008 10:17 PM
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March 17, 2008

St. Patrick’s Celebration

Iowa- and Missouri-based Crucificionados:

You are cordially invited to an Abysmal Bash in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. Starting at 8 p.m. tonight, if you show up in the parking lot of the Stardust Motel in Ottumwa, Iowa, you will be treated to one of the biggest, kick-assiest St. Patty’s parties in the history of the universe. BYOB.

—Girth

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 17, 2008 11:14 AM
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March 19, 2008

Tour Blog: Des Moines — Back in Iowa

I thought I’d have a good time returning to my home state for the first time since 2005. Although I’ve built a great life in Los Angeles, with a beautiful wife, and awesome band, and for a short time a daughter, sometimes I miss the old homestead. Sadly, I can’t even get booked in my own hometown of Cedar Rapids, but in a few days we will play Iowa City. But the first stop, last night, was Des Moines, Iowa’s version of a thriving metropolis.

Things couldn’t have gone worse.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 19, 2008 2:22 PM
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March 22, 2008

Tour Blog: Iowa City — Old Flame

“There’s nothing I can do,” the Buddyline promoter muttered. “We just…we’ve heard too many things about you guys. We asked for a family-friendly group, and you’re about as…well, family-unfriendly as it gets.”

“You just have to get to know us,” I pleaded. “The parents in St. Louis really dug us once they started listening. And also once we stopped singing exclusively about sex.”

“You shouldn’t sing about sex at all,” the promoter grumbled.

“Suck my dick!” I snapped.

Her thick face pulled back in a matronly look of faux-shock. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she practically gasped.

“This isn’t over!” I roared, beating my fists on her desk.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 22, 2008 5:47 PM
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March 23, 2008

Tour Blog: Dubuque — Metal Mania

Craziness. Sheer craziness. Stepping into the Colts’ community center in Dubuque was like stepping into a time machine. Maybe running into Robin had a bigger impact than I thought, but Carl and I both agreed that the center looked exactly like the gym at Linn-Mar High School back in Marion, Iowa—the place where, way back in 1992, Abysmal Crucifix had its first gig.

Granted, we’d played a couple of shows before, but this was the first show after we came up with the name that stuck—Abysmal Crucifix. The first time we were advertised as such, the first time we played original songs for a packed house. Abysmal Crucifix changed things: before, we played speed-metal covers exclusively; after, Robin and I worked our asses off to come up with a roster of tunes that combined my metal sensibilities with her pop melodies. The results of these tireless creative sessions can be found on our 1995 debut, Star Sex, which features many songs she and I wrote together during this period (including “Phone Sex” and the title track).

Things were different back then. Three 17-year-olds could hop on a stage and sing about phone sex without anyone batting an eyelash. Nowadays, they’d get expelled for doing something like that. More importantly, our passion for the music ignited the crowd—they felt not only our passion, they themselves felt the same passion. These days, kids become detached from music. Unless it’s loaded with winking irony or bland caterwauling to express insincere emotions, nobody will buy it. I used to pretend that this didn’t bother me, but one thing this tour has taught me—it does bother me. It bothers me a lot. Maybe we should go back to Europe, where everyone’s freer and more rational. Maybe this time we’ll play an actual show, too.

I guess the biggest difference—or, at least, the one that bothers me the most—is that we were young back then. We had vitality and fire, thought we were kings of the world. I carried that attitude with me for quite a long time, but there’s only so much you can take before it wears on you. I’m starting to feel it now.

The show in Dubuque was surprisingly free of controversy. Carl and I talked about it beforehand, and we really tried to recapture the energy of our glory days. We almost had it in St. Louis, but coming to a gymnasium that reminds me so much of Linn-Mar makes me realize how much of the passion has dissipated over the years. From us, from the audience, from the world. Is this what they mean when they say “post-9/11 thinking”?

If it is, I want to go back.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 23, 2008 11:22 AM
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March 28, 2008

Tour Blog: Madison — The Dane County Skeleton Rollers

“Another protest?” I growled.

“‘Fraid so,” Lacey sighed. She’d just come back from the Alliance Health Co-Op, where we were scheduled to play. She explained that the place was crawling with feminist protesters who disagreed with the way women are allegedly objectified in my songs.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with objectification,” I said. “All I’m doing is putting women on a pedestal—making them feel special—and then masturbating as I gaze up at their beauty. Why is that wrong?”

“Feminists don’t want to be special,” Lacey said. “They want to be equal.”

“To men?” I laughed.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 28, 2008 12:17 PM
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March 30, 2008

Tour Blog: Rhinelander — Picture Perfect

I’ve never seen a more beautiful vacation spot than Rhinelander, Wisconsin. I booked a gig here because, as a kid, I remember people going to Rhinelander and Door County and being blown away by the majesty and beauty of Wisconsin, a place otherwise regarded as a disgusting cesspool known primarily for beer, cheese, and the delightful glut of pornography stores along the I-94 corridor.

Plus, Hank Wooster only gave us a select few places to choose from.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on March 30, 2008 2:11 PM
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April 5, 2008

Tour Blog: Milwaukee — Urban Renewal

I told myself I’d never post on this piece-of-shit blog again, but I have to let all you fans know who you’re dealing with.

Girth McDürchstein is a RAT FUCKING BASTARD.

Written by Margo Atwater on April 5, 2008 11:47 PM
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April 6, 2008

Tour Blog: Chicago — Stripped

I feel empty. Margo left again. We’re two halves of a whole. What’s half a brick or half a car engine or half a pie? Worthless. I can’t live without her, so while I may not have thought things through, I certainly don’t deserve this torture.

We played a show at First Nazarene in a Chicago suburb called Lemont. I felt so bland and bored, but I guess it didn’t come across onstage because we ended up getting banned by the town police department and can no longer enter Lemont city limits. We had to get a different motel. It was around that time that I remembered a nice stripper who sent me several polite messages on the MySpace. She incorporated “Phone Sex” into her dance routine and told me to look her up whenever we toured Chicago.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 6, 2008 4:27 AM
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April 7, 2008

Tour Blog: Decatur & South Bend — Canceled

Sorry, everybody in the general Illinois-Indiana area. We’ve canceled our shows at Millikin and the Calvary Temple because I need to head into Kokomo to make things right with Margo. Come see us in Michigan, if you can. Also, if you bought advance tickets: NO REFUNDS!

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 7, 2008 12:46 PM
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April 15, 2008

Family Shit

Everybody knows there’s a place called Kokomo. An odd tropical-island paradise in central Indiana. Nobody knows how it happens that an island with a tropical climate found its way to the middle of an Indiana lake, but Midwesterners love it. It’s become a vacation spot on par with Mackinac Island and Rhinelander, Wisconsin.

Margo didn’t exactly grow up here. Born in San Francisco, she lived in that weird, hippie-dippy city until she was old enough to participate in her parents’ lucrative confidence-scheme business. After that, they traveled the country before the elder Atwaters settled into retirement in Kokomo. Margo was 16 at the time and spent a few awkward high school years there, but she hasn’t returned since…until now.

April 18, 2008

Tour Blog: Grand Rapids — Ballin’

Staring, entranced, at the hot dog rotisserie in Roger’s Food-Pride, I barked at Lacey over my cell phone: “Well, what the hell do you expect me to do?! They’re threatening to cancel thanks to that fucking newspaper picture. What the fuck kind of publicist are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be making sure shit like that doesn’t get into the paper?”

“Well, there’s no such thing as bad publicity,” Lacey argued.

“Yes, there is!” I screamed. “When you get shows canceled because of your publicity, that is bad publicity!”

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 18, 2008 8:14 AM
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April 21, 2008

Tour Blog: Traverse City — Milligan & Strosby

There Carl and I sat, at the classy Amical Bistro on Front Street. We’d just come from a local department store across the street, where we’d bought some new clothes. Matching Hawaiian shirts, in fact. You see, he and I planned this tour for a Midwestern spring—meaning nothing but parkas, sweaters, and long pants. We were left in the lurch when it started to get warm earlier than expected.

Across the street, the department store loomed, casting a deep shadow across the street and into the restaurant. The only source of light was its dim red sign: STROSBY-MILLIGAN.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 21, 2008 11:27 AM
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Tour Blog: Traverse City, Part 2 — Infiltrated

From the moment I saw the bastard impostors, I knew something bad had happened. I didn’t know what, exactly. I just knew, off the bat, that it wasn’t Girth. Plenty of folks have tried to impersonate Girth over the years—he’s a favorite of those standup comics who claim to find the metal scene ridiculous even as they desperately try to impersonate and impress with their own, shall we say, limited musical skills. They get the voice or the mannerisms, sometimes even both, but there’s something about his swagger—maybe you have to be married to understand. I could tell if a man walked in the room dressed identically—hell, cloned or whatever these mad scientist assholes were up to—and know from the way he walks that he’s not my Girthy.

Written by Margo Atwater on April 21, 2008 6:41 PM
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April 22, 2008

Tour Blog: Fort Wayne — Big Disappointment

I was bummed when we got into Fort Wayne yesterday morning and I saw this on the front page:

Click image for a larger view

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 22, 2008 12:57 PM
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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.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 25, 2008 6:16 PM
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April 26, 2008

Tour Blog: Columbus — Family Ties

“I’ve fucking had it!” I screamed. “I quit, man! Fuck this bullshit band, and fuck you!”

I punctuated those last two words by pounding my index and middle fingers into Girth’s chest. He had a stunned, slackjawed look on his face, an expressed that made me want to feel bad for him, but when I thought about all the fucking lies and the bullshit, it made me want to yell “fuck you” all over again!

Written by Mikey Parker on April 26, 2008 5:08 PM
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April 28, 2008

Tour Blog: Dayton — ‘The Hedge’ Redux

“It’s glorious,” I gasped as I stared up at the beautiful old stage of the Dayton Ecumenical Youth Theatre.

Turning to Margo, I said, “You know what we could do?”

She thought for a moment, then scowled. “No.”

“Come on,” I said. “It’d be perfect.”

“We don’t have the money,” she said. “Remember?”

“I’ll look backstage and see what kind of props, costumes, and set dressings they have just lying around,” I said. “It’s feasible.”

“Where are we going to get actors on such short notice?”

“We’ll act, just like we used to.”

“Okay, then,” Margo said. “Where are we going to get musicians on such short notice?”

I sighed. Margo had just dashed my dreams of doing a fully staged rendition of Girth McDürchstein’s ‘The Hedge’ for the first time in four years (you’ll remember, my attempt in celebration of The Hedge’s fifth anniversary didn’t go well).

Written by Girth McDürchstein on April 28, 2008 5:11 AM
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April 30, 2008

Back in L.A.

Getting back wasn’t too bad. To our surprise, we got most of the deposit back for the van, despite driving it through several cornfields and streams during our unfortunate mushroom tripping in Kansas. The flight was only 15 minutes late leaving Cincinnati, but it got into LAX early.

After touring the snowy, then rainy Midwest, I was happy to get back to the sun-dappled majesty of Southern California.

Click image for a larger view

Huh.