Friends, family, fans, stalkers and accidental subscribers… Welcome back! It’s (Staind voice) BEEN A WHILE since we’ve forced the minutiae of our lives onto you, so here we go onward with the shocking conclusion to 2015’s DG “No Refunds” US Tour. If there’s one thing the world needs more of, it’s the stories and opinions of non-professionals online.
Après Denton we had a drive day with the goal of landing in El Paso for the night. En route I texted my good pal CC that we were heading to his hometown, and, like the great friend that he is, he offered up his parents’ place to stay for the night. His Mom called me a few minutes later to ask what time we were getting in… and what everyone would like to eat! SO NICE. We were getting in late but she said not to worry, and not to eat because she was preparing us a big dinner… Exciting!! We got in around 10pm to a MASSIVE spread of homemade cooking, leading to 10 high-octane minutes of feasting followed by near-instant sleep. As the tour had wreaked havoc on out workout schedules, we woke up the next morning early, got our gym clothes on, and went for an epic LOTR-level workout run. Braving intense heat from the scorching Texican sun, we set out, not knowing what hardships the journey would force us to endure. Ten minutes (and 12.5 combined jumping jacks) later we were back in the kitchen scarfing down leftovers. We had some time to kill so Allyson threw on her favorite reality show “Vanderpump Rules”, which we learned quickly is a documentary about the end of civilization, with a cast of garbage-humans fucking their way into all sorts of tender situations. Essentially a West Coast Jersey Shore based in a restaurant, but without the convoluted plot lines or respectable cast. Like if you found Snooki too elegant, or The Situation too Presidential, this’d be the show for you.
Next drive was to Phoenix to play the Valley Bar. We played a lively gig, and, as travel exhaustion was beginning to seep in, headed quickly after to our home away from home, the Holiday Inn Express. This was Renée’s last night on tour with us so we hit the very empty hotel bar. There was a modern Internet-fed jukebox so Allyson kicked off the night with a everyone’s go-to Prince track… Batdance. Winner of 1989 Grammy for Best Batsong. The obvious first choice when you have EVERY SONG EVER at your disposal. This, coupled with some creeping tour dementia, led to communication only through giggling (including to the bad-joke-telling bartender) until bed.
Then off to Los Angeles, home of all celebrities ever. Find me a legit celeb who lives anywhere else and I will eat my hat (insert stock photo of nacho hat). Got in early enough for a quick round of #health at Forage and some solid Silverlake wandering. After a round of cosmetic reductions and enhancements, we were ready to head over to the magically nautical (though decidedly non-Vanderpumpian) Redwood Bar for the final gig o’ tour. Tons of friends came out to hang and a million drinks and laughs were had. Hatches were battened down (let’s go ahead and assume that the term makes sense in this context) as Maniac closed out the night with a killer hand-injured punk set. Dear hoser bud Stephen “Gord” McBean guided us around town post-gig, landing eventually at his sweet pad for literary discussion, poetry reading, and silent meditation. We woke up the next morning with hangovers and a desire to gloss over the fact that we spent the whole previous night chugging booze with max force.
So that’s it. I’m sure there were several valuable life lessons learned, but we’re all a bit fried from long drives and Olympic-level food intake so brain no good now. Thank god we’ve got a nice long break between now and the next tr… Ewwwwww boy.
XOXO Your DG Fwiends in Food we Twust,
McD, Bakerstein, & Zynskz*
*a special thanks to Zynskz for his help with this last blog post and for almost dying on tour via food rammage.