Beating A Dead Mule (Part 1: What a short strange trip it's been)
Q: When is a Gov't Mule concert not a Gov't Mule concert?
A: When it takes place in San Francisco
Gov't Mule and I have an unbalanced relationship. I adore them and they don't seem to know that I exist. I champion for their cause, telling anyone who I think would like their music about them, yet lately they've been trampling on my devotion a bit. This last time up at the Warfield on Friday, April 16th in San Francisco was a crushing blow.
Mary and I had already seen Gov't Mule perform live 10 times when I got an email annoucement about the 2004 West Coast swing of the Rebirth of the Mule tour. Fresno does not have the demographics to support of band like this, so we end up having to travel north or south to catch the shows. In the past, we'd gotten lucky with the dates working out for us, most of the time falling on a weekend, but we've even been able to take time off of work when they happen be weeknight shows. Twice, we made the Fresno to S.F., S.F. to L.A. and L.A. back to Fresno journey just to see Mule two nights in a row. Those were tough hauls, but it was worth it because this band doesn't play the same show twice, especially two nights in a row.
This year's San Francisco show was on a Friday night. My current schedule has me working Saturdays, so I stressed a little about getting the time off to see them this time around. Seeing them that Saturday night in Los Angeles was probably an easier option because we could just leave after I got home from work, but I prefer S.F. to L.A. as a city in general and I also found out that the Warfield show was Gov't Mule's 1000th performance. It promised to be a special night. I should have seen it coming..........
We made our plans to see the Warfield show a few weeks before the date. I was able to get the day off, so I ordered two tickets online and reserved a room at the very cool Hotel Metropolis, which is within "stumbling distance" of the theater. We like to stay there when we see shows at the Warfield because with no driving necessary after the show, we can cut loose a little (okay.... or a lot). We were all set and were looking forward to the little getaway.
In the coming weeks, there was excitement and rumors were flying around the internet about what special guests would appear for the Mule's 1,000th show. At previous Gov't Mule shows in the City, members of the Black Crowes, Blues Traveller, The Meters, Metallica, Primus, Hot Tuna and many other bands have sat in from time to time. This is usually pretty cool to see, but does tend to dilute the experience of seeing a Mule show. Gregg Allman has sat in a couple of times and that's always a good time because Gov't Mule's guitarist and singer, Warren Haynes, is a member of the Allman Brothers. It's a natural fit to see them together onstage. Haynes is also now a full-time member of the Dead, which is what the remaining members of the Grateful Dead are calling themselves these days. I should have seen it coming............
About a week before the show, it seemed possible that the Dead could play at this show. I was hoping against hope that it wouldn't happen. I really have nothing against the Grateful Dead. I realize and respect what they are and what they mean to rock and roll. I just can't get into them. Sometimes I try, by checking out a Grateful Dead radio show from time to time, but for every moment that catches my ear and impresses me, there are more moments where I say to myself, "This is crap. Why am I listening to this?" I don't like the Dead, but I like the idea of the Dead. Great merchandise (the skull logo, the skeleton characters and the dancing bear stuff), a loyal following and a mythical status in rock history all make for an attractive package. I just don't care for the music. Too bad, because I really dig the shirts, but I think you should actually like a band to wear their gear.
Mary, on the other hand, hates the Grateful Dead. She does not like hippies, especially neo-hippies. She does not like the smell of patchouli, which is what most hippies smell like, but she'll take that over B.O., accepting the lesser of two evils. And she really hates the Dead's bass player, Phil Lesh, but I'll save that story for another time. Knowing that Mary and the Dead don't see eye to eye, I wasn't sure if I should tell her about the rumors. Because then the Gov't Mule concert for her would be like eating a delicious apple but knowing that there's a worm in it somewhere. She just wouldn't be able to enjoy the show.
After a few more days of speculation on the internet, it really seemed likely that the Dead were gonna be there, so I figured that I'd tell Mary just so it wasn't an unpleasant surprise. You know, like stepping in dogshit is unpleasant, but still a surprise. At least this way, she'd be prepared and I could plan for the right amount of Sierra Nevada beer it would take to get her to sit through that portion of the show.
On the day of the show, we took off as soon as I could get cleaned up after work. We were both pretty tired after playing a late softball game the night before and then getting up at our usual 3:15am for work. But we were excited to get out of town and see one of our favorite bands again. I said I'd drive so that Mary could catch a nap so as to prepare for a long night of jamming. I usually have no problem catching a second wind on concert days, but this time my body was shutting down on me. We didn't get more than an hour out of town when I was having trouble focusing on the road. Traffic was still light, but I knew that once we got close to San Francisco, I would need my senses to be sharp. So when we stopped for a bathroom break at our usual truck stop, I asked Mary if she could take a short shift so I could nap. She had no problem with that and I settled into the passenger seat thinking I'd close my eyes and relax. I don't remember anything from Los Banos to San Jose--about an hour--and Mary tells me I was snoring before she got up to speed entering traffic off of the onramp. I guess I was pretty tired.
With Mary Andretti at the wheel, we made good time up to the Bay Area. Most of the traffic was on the way out and we were fighting our way in. Both of us needed to eat, but didn't dare stop until we got to the hotel. Since we had General Admission tickets, we'd have to get to the Warfield early to land a primo spot. At the Warfield, the area in front of the stage is standing room only, then there is a step up where long tables are set up. These tables are usually all reserved. One more step up and under the balcony are more tables which are pretty much up for grabs. We've had luck in the past securing a table with a great view (and close to the bar!), so we were sticking to the game plan.
So I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and helped navigate. We cranked up KFOG and Mary changed the lyrics to Blondie's "One Way Or Another" to suit her aggresive driving style.
One way or another
I'm gonna pass ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha
One way
Maybe right now
I'll pass ya I'll pass ya
I'm gonna blow right past ya
Traffic was pretty bad due to the Giants/Dodgers game coming up at 7:15 that night, but our hotel was away from the stadium and once we got into the City itself, it wasn't too long before we were pulling into the parking lot, giving the valet the keys and heading inside to check in. Oh, and I needed a bathroom really bad, so I was glad when check-in took no time at all and we headed up the 10 floors in the elevator to our room. We turned the corner in the hallway and came upon the door to our room, number 1004. It was slightly ajar. Mary stopped and said something that did not register with me. I said, "Huh. It's open" and went right in. I did check to see that no one was in the room, at least in the open, as I made a dash into the bathroom. Mary was creeping into the room, not comfortable with this at all. As I stood there in the bathroom, relieving the pressure on my bladder that was 82 miles old, I did sort of get a Psycho moment when I imagined that someone could be behind the shower curtain. Leaning over (carefully aiming still), I brushed the curtain aside to see an empty shower. I was 90% sure it would be empty, but as I look back, what would I have done if some cretin was in there? I was tired, unzipped and kinda busy at that moment. That would not have been a good crime scene photo.
Upon further inspection, the room was clean, but had recently had some sort of visitor. The decorative pillows on the bed were askew and there was an impression on the bedspread. There was ice dumped in the sink and a little trash in the wastebasket. Mary wanted no part of this room, but we were running late and I was stressing a little. It was about 6:15 and doors opened at 7:00. I theorized that a maid probably came up here and took an unauthorized nap and didn't straighten up as she left in a hurry, maybe after hearing the elevator. Mary theorized that a homeless man probably snuck in the hotel and found this room's door ajar and had himself a nice, comfortable afternoon in there. The thought of sleeping on that bed got the best of me and I relented when Mary wanted to call down and change rooms.
We moved into our new room, which was uninhabited as best we could tell, cleaned up and I called Chris Brown (of Chris "Lefty" Brown's Corner blog fame--see the link on my sidebar) on his cellphone. Chris was making his way to the Bay Bridge, so we'd beat him to the show for sure. I told him we'd get a table and look out for him. We went down to the lobby and made our way onto Market street. We looked around for something to eat but could not find anything on that block. The end of the line into the Warfield was just ahead and we decided we'd get something inside. After standing there for a little while, a couple of guys in line asked us if we'd seen Gov't Mule before. We gave them a little history of the band and related some of our own experieces. After talking to them for a bit and hearing that they were musicians themselves, I was sure they'd be blown away at this show, but I did warn them that the night promised to feature some guests. I should have seen it coming...................
Next: Beating A Dead Mule (Part 2: Letdown in the Lobby)
A: When it takes place in San Francisco
Gov't Mule and I have an unbalanced relationship. I adore them and they don't seem to know that I exist. I champion for their cause, telling anyone who I think would like their music about them, yet lately they've been trampling on my devotion a bit. This last time up at the Warfield on Friday, April 16th in San Francisco was a crushing blow.
Mary and I had already seen Gov't Mule perform live 10 times when I got an email annoucement about the 2004 West Coast swing of the Rebirth of the Mule tour. Fresno does not have the demographics to support of band like this, so we end up having to travel north or south to catch the shows. In the past, we'd gotten lucky with the dates working out for us, most of the time falling on a weekend, but we've even been able to take time off of work when they happen be weeknight shows. Twice, we made the Fresno to S.F., S.F. to L.A. and L.A. back to Fresno journey just to see Mule two nights in a row. Those were tough hauls, but it was worth it because this band doesn't play the same show twice, especially two nights in a row.
This year's San Francisco show was on a Friday night. My current schedule has me working Saturdays, so I stressed a little about getting the time off to see them this time around. Seeing them that Saturday night in Los Angeles was probably an easier option because we could just leave after I got home from work, but I prefer S.F. to L.A. as a city in general and I also found out that the Warfield show was Gov't Mule's 1000th performance. It promised to be a special night. I should have seen it coming..........
We made our plans to see the Warfield show a few weeks before the date. I was able to get the day off, so I ordered two tickets online and reserved a room at the very cool Hotel Metropolis, which is within "stumbling distance" of the theater. We like to stay there when we see shows at the Warfield because with no driving necessary after the show, we can cut loose a little (okay.... or a lot). We were all set and were looking forward to the little getaway.
In the coming weeks, there was excitement and rumors were flying around the internet about what special guests would appear for the Mule's 1,000th show. At previous Gov't Mule shows in the City, members of the Black Crowes, Blues Traveller, The Meters, Metallica, Primus, Hot Tuna and many other bands have sat in from time to time. This is usually pretty cool to see, but does tend to dilute the experience of seeing a Mule show. Gregg Allman has sat in a couple of times and that's always a good time because Gov't Mule's guitarist and singer, Warren Haynes, is a member of the Allman Brothers. It's a natural fit to see them together onstage. Haynes is also now a full-time member of the Dead, which is what the remaining members of the Grateful Dead are calling themselves these days. I should have seen it coming............
About a week before the show, it seemed possible that the Dead could play at this show. I was hoping against hope that it wouldn't happen. I really have nothing against the Grateful Dead. I realize and respect what they are and what they mean to rock and roll. I just can't get into them. Sometimes I try, by checking out a Grateful Dead radio show from time to time, but for every moment that catches my ear and impresses me, there are more moments where I say to myself, "This is crap. Why am I listening to this?" I don't like the Dead, but I like the idea of the Dead. Great merchandise (the skull logo, the skeleton characters and the dancing bear stuff), a loyal following and a mythical status in rock history all make for an attractive package. I just don't care for the music. Too bad, because I really dig the shirts, but I think you should actually like a band to wear their gear.
Mary, on the other hand, hates the Grateful Dead. She does not like hippies, especially neo-hippies. She does not like the smell of patchouli, which is what most hippies smell like, but she'll take that over B.O., accepting the lesser of two evils. And she really hates the Dead's bass player, Phil Lesh, but I'll save that story for another time. Knowing that Mary and the Dead don't see eye to eye, I wasn't sure if I should tell her about the rumors. Because then the Gov't Mule concert for her would be like eating a delicious apple but knowing that there's a worm in it somewhere. She just wouldn't be able to enjoy the show.
After a few more days of speculation on the internet, it really seemed likely that the Dead were gonna be there, so I figured that I'd tell Mary just so it wasn't an unpleasant surprise. You know, like stepping in dogshit is unpleasant, but still a surprise. At least this way, she'd be prepared and I could plan for the right amount of Sierra Nevada beer it would take to get her to sit through that portion of the show.
On the day of the show, we took off as soon as I could get cleaned up after work. We were both pretty tired after playing a late softball game the night before and then getting up at our usual 3:15am for work. But we were excited to get out of town and see one of our favorite bands again. I said I'd drive so that Mary could catch a nap so as to prepare for a long night of jamming. I usually have no problem catching a second wind on concert days, but this time my body was shutting down on me. We didn't get more than an hour out of town when I was having trouble focusing on the road. Traffic was still light, but I knew that once we got close to San Francisco, I would need my senses to be sharp. So when we stopped for a bathroom break at our usual truck stop, I asked Mary if she could take a short shift so I could nap. She had no problem with that and I settled into the passenger seat thinking I'd close my eyes and relax. I don't remember anything from Los Banos to San Jose--about an hour--and Mary tells me I was snoring before she got up to speed entering traffic off of the onramp. I guess I was pretty tired.
With Mary Andretti at the wheel, we made good time up to the Bay Area. Most of the traffic was on the way out and we were fighting our way in. Both of us needed to eat, but didn't dare stop until we got to the hotel. Since we had General Admission tickets, we'd have to get to the Warfield early to land a primo spot. At the Warfield, the area in front of the stage is standing room only, then there is a step up where long tables are set up. These tables are usually all reserved. One more step up and under the balcony are more tables which are pretty much up for grabs. We've had luck in the past securing a table with a great view (and close to the bar!), so we were sticking to the game plan.
So I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and helped navigate. We cranked up KFOG and Mary changed the lyrics to Blondie's "One Way Or Another" to suit her aggresive driving style.
One way or another
I'm gonna pass ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha
One way
Maybe right now
I'll pass ya I'll pass ya
I'm gonna blow right past ya
Traffic was pretty bad due to the Giants/Dodgers game coming up at 7:15 that night, but our hotel was away from the stadium and once we got into the City itself, it wasn't too long before we were pulling into the parking lot, giving the valet the keys and heading inside to check in. Oh, and I needed a bathroom really bad, so I was glad when check-in took no time at all and we headed up the 10 floors in the elevator to our room. We turned the corner in the hallway and came upon the door to our room, number 1004. It was slightly ajar. Mary stopped and said something that did not register with me. I said, "Huh. It's open" and went right in. I did check to see that no one was in the room, at least in the open, as I made a dash into the bathroom. Mary was creeping into the room, not comfortable with this at all. As I stood there in the bathroom, relieving the pressure on my bladder that was 82 miles old, I did sort of get a Psycho moment when I imagined that someone could be behind the shower curtain. Leaning over (carefully aiming still), I brushed the curtain aside to see an empty shower. I was 90% sure it would be empty, but as I look back, what would I have done if some cretin was in there? I was tired, unzipped and kinda busy at that moment. That would not have been a good crime scene photo.
Upon further inspection, the room was clean, but had recently had some sort of visitor. The decorative pillows on the bed were askew and there was an impression on the bedspread. There was ice dumped in the sink and a little trash in the wastebasket. Mary wanted no part of this room, but we were running late and I was stressing a little. It was about 6:15 and doors opened at 7:00. I theorized that a maid probably came up here and took an unauthorized nap and didn't straighten up as she left in a hurry, maybe after hearing the elevator. Mary theorized that a homeless man probably snuck in the hotel and found this room's door ajar and had himself a nice, comfortable afternoon in there. The thought of sleeping on that bed got the best of me and I relented when Mary wanted to call down and change rooms.
We moved into our new room, which was uninhabited as best we could tell, cleaned up and I called Chris Brown (of Chris "Lefty" Brown's Corner blog fame--see the link on my sidebar) on his cellphone. Chris was making his way to the Bay Bridge, so we'd beat him to the show for sure. I told him we'd get a table and look out for him. We went down to the lobby and made our way onto Market street. We looked around for something to eat but could not find anything on that block. The end of the line into the Warfield was just ahead and we decided we'd get something inside. After standing there for a little while, a couple of guys in line asked us if we'd seen Gov't Mule before. We gave them a little history of the band and related some of our own experieces. After talking to them for a bit and hearing that they were musicians themselves, I was sure they'd be blown away at this show, but I did warn them that the night promised to feature some guests. I should have seen it coming...................
Next: Beating A Dead Mule (Part 2: Letdown in the Lobby)
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