King's X '99 (Issue #3: Rockin' Porterville and Using The Lester)
Sitting in the second row of the Porterville High Auditorium, the six of us had an amazing view of the stage, even better than the view I had of the Clovis High production of Hello Dolly back in '85 at the Mercedes Edwards Theater on the campus of Clark Junior High School. And the only reason I went to see that steaming pile of dung was that I had a huge crush on a girl in the play. She was onstage in some sort of parade scene that lasted about 14 seconds. I sat there all dressed up in my best OP shirt and newest 501s, holding flowers (on my mom's suggestion--I guess you're supposed to give flowers to stage actors) and seriously considering various methods of suicide until I remembered that I had tickets to see Y&T in a few days. I would have hated to miss that show. Jeez, Dave Meniketti might have saved my life, but I never dated that girl. Something about her Dad not letting her date until she was a Senior (she was a Junior at the time), but I think it was because I had long hair and wore concert shirts.
Anyway, we talked a little to the high school kids in the first row as we poured the contents from our tiny bottles of liquor into our sodas. They watched the liquid gurgle into the styrofoam cups like a dog watches you take a steak off of the barbecue. We asked them if this was a cool town to grow up in. Short answer: "No". Long answer: "Not really, dude". But they were stoked that a relatively large act was playing right there in Porterville. On the downside, they had to see the concert on the campus of their high school, the last place they wanted to be on a weekend. They seemed like nice guys, so Chet warned them that things could get physical during Galactic Cowboys' set. They laughed nervously, but didn't seem to believe him.
All of us downed our first round of drinks. We were so happy with ourselves, that we decided to just go ahead and have the final round right then and there. People behind us probably wondered why six guys raised their Pepsis and toasted each other. Then the lights dimmed and Galactic Cowboys took to the stage. Randy, Eric, Chet and I were pretty big fans of GC and we'd seen them before when they opened for Dream Theater on a crazy last minute trip to S.F. (Now there's a Hazy Memory to write about someday). Chris and Lester had only heard of them from us.
The four of us stood up, yelling and singing along. Chris and Lester didn't know the words to any songs, but laughed as they stood up to shove us around in a mock moshpit. Let me tell you, it's kind of hard to mosh around in a row of theater seats. We ended up more like a human set of those desktop silver balance balls known as a Newton's Cradle.
One person would shove from one end of the row and the person on the other end of the six of us would get the brunt of the force. This ended when both ends pushed at once and Randy got squished and pretty pissed. Eric nudged me and nodded behind us. I turned around and saw that the theater hadn't filled in much at all. It seemed that only the first 8 rows were occupied and they weren't filled from aisle to aisle at that. I wasn't surprised but had hoped for better.
Galactic Cowboys continued onward into their set, but still had not played Pump Up The Spacesuit, my favorite track from their eponymous debut album. So I, along with Chet, Eric and Randy, started yelling for the tune at the end of every song. Keep in mind, we were in the second row of a low turnout. We also wanted to hear Space In Your Face, the title track to their second disc and let the band know it by bellowing the two song titles (admittedly) a little belligerently. The lead singer made a few raised eyebrowed faces once in a while and smiled to his bandmates every time we did this. After screaming for the two titles at the end of 5 consecutive songs, I roared, "C'mon man, play something with space in the title!"
Finally, he responded, "Jesus, guys, give us some time. We'll get there". He shook his head in disbelief that anyone would be so passionate about those tunes, especially in this setting. We got a kick out of this and high-fived each other moronically. After one more tune, we got what we wanted and got it good.
The frantic first notes of Pump Up The Spacesuit sent me bounding over the row of seats in front of me like someone had given me a hotfoot and I charged right up to the stage. Chet followed and we slammed into each other, laughing maniacally. When we looked back and saw that we were the only two up front in the orchestra pit, we then turned our energies towards the high schoolers in the front row. We thrashed them soundly, but kept it clean. It was disappointing that they did not reciprocate. I felt kind of like the Samsonite gorilla.
It wasn't long before a shell-shocked young man came up to us in mid-mosh and tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around, coiled to spring, when I saw that this guy was a little scared. He put his hands out in a gesture of "hey, it's cool" and leaned in to yell into my ear. "You guys can't be doing that in here", he said. I heard him just fine but still gave him a "Huh-wha?" and gave Chet a shot to the chest. Chet almost levelled me with a shoulder charge to my left side and as I righted myself, I looked up at the guy and asked him what the problem was. He mumbled something about insurance and I nodded, immediately thinking that this could be the guy that paid out for King's X. Chet overheard as well and we both chilled out, not wanting to ruin this guy's gig. We climbed back over the first row of seats and spent the time during Galactic Cowboys' segue into Space In Your Face shoving around Chris, Eric, Randy and Lester in our row.
After GC's set, they came out to the edge of the stage and signed autographs. They could not get enough of us. They were impressed that someone out there knew their material. Eric and the guitar player, Wally Farkas, are both of Hungarian decent and had a pretty cool conversation about that fact. I had the band sign a promo photo and got a guitar pick from Wally.
We didn't have to wait long until King's X took the stage. With the same huge Texas state flag as a backdrop that Galactic Cowboys used (both bands are from the Lone Star State), the trio busted into "Groove Machine" and most of the crowd pulled a Tony and charged right up to the stage, albiet more peacefully. The six of us from Row 2 did as well and we got pummelled by the power of the band's sound.
Staying true to form that I not give you a "by the numbers" review here, I will skip most of the commentary that I could bore the most ardent King's X fan with. But I have to say that this was among the finest performances I've seen from this band. Chet, Eric and I had run into someone travelling with the band in the lobby before the show and he commented that the setlist would feature at least four songs from the album "Ear Candy". I really thought that this was their weakest album and could not understand why they would feature such lame material live. But after seeing them perform those four songs, the album "came alive" for me. It really breathed new life into "Ear Candy". (I can only hope that this holds true for material off of the latest release from King's X, "Black Like Sunday". Peeyuu!)
Another moment that stands out for me was when lead singer/bassist Doug Pinnick noticed a man in a wheelchair down in front of the elevated stage. In between songs, he invited the guy up to the stage so as to have a better view. The guy in the wheelchair got to see the next few songs from a spot just to the side of Doug Pinnick. I'm sure it was cool for him, but maybe also a little awkward knowing that many people were looking at him instead of the band. But it was a great gesture on the part of the band. I saw this demonstrated again a couple of years later when Doug noticed some little kids in the audience and invited them to stand up by the stage (in front of guys like me). Doug is such a genuine stage presence that nobody up front blinked when these Munchkins wound their way throught the crowd and rocked out face to face with King's X.
The show ended and we decided to wait around out back and get some autographs from King's X. Seeing as this was a very small crowd, we figured it wouldn't take long. Drummer Jerry Gaskill and Doug Pinnick came out and signed a bunch of stuff, taking pictures with fans and shaking hands. We got our stuff signed and said our "thank yous" and hit the road back to Fresno.
We decided to stop and get some water and sodas for the trip back home. I was looking forward to a nap in the back seat of the van because I had to get up at 5am to get ready for work. At this time, I estimated that I would get at least five hours of sleep and I could deal with that just fine. In the gas station's mini-mart, I picked up a Gatorade while the other guys picked out their stuff. The fatigue was setting in now and I just wanted to get home. Traffic shouldn't be bad at this time of night, I thought, and we should make good time getting to Fresno.
We pulled out of the gas station's lot and got underway. We all were speaking excitedly about the night's show, laughing at my Spacesuit escapade and generally talking loudly over each other. It was then that I thought I'd heard Lester say something like, "Hmm, I'm kinda low on gas". But I assumed that he was just saying that meaning that he'd be really low by the time we got home and he wouldn't have gotten gas money out of us.
Even among all the shouting and laughing, I was able to nod off for a while. I stirred once and at that time the van's occupant's had quieted, perhaps overtaken by fatigue themselves. I only heard the faint sound of the classic rock station Lester had on and the hum of the road beneath the wheel well I sat over. This was my chance to get some good winks. I dug my shoulder into the corner of the bench seat and drifted off..........
I got some good sleep until we pulled up to Chris' house in Sanger. We said our good-byes and I thought maybe I could sleep the rest of the 20 minutes or so it would take to get to Lester's where my car awaited. I leaned back and was back in dreamland before I knew it.
My slumber was interupted by a sickening feeling; the familiar lurch of a vehicle running out of fuel. I sat up and looked out the window and saw no signs of civilization. "You've got to be shittin' me", I croaked.
"What's going on?", asked Chet.
"Well, I'm out of gas", answered Lester. "I told you guys I was low". He pulled the dead van over to the side of the road.
I said, "Yeah, low. Not out. Why didn't you pump up earlier tonight?"
"I told you guys I was low, but nobody seemed to care", he whined.
"I heard you say something", said Eric, "but I didn't think you were that low".
"See, I did say something about it", said Lester.
"Wait. Wait a minute. I heard that too. But we were just pulling out of Porterville when you said that. Why didn't you turn around and go back to the gas station when you realized you were almost out of gas?", I asked, trying to keep it calm.
"Well, I said something and nobody said anything back, so I just kept going", he explained.
I was taken aback. "You....you needed someone to agree with you to turn back? Are you five years old? What the hell.....?"
Lester said nothing. We were at a country road intersection and it was around 12:30am. I happened to have a cellphone and Chet called AAA for a tow-truck. We were in the perfect spot; too far from Chris' house and too far from the outskirts of Fresno. We'd have to wait it out.
The phone's battery was dying and Chet was trying to explain to the dispatcher where exactly we were. Meanwhile, I got out and took a walk. I could not believe this and couldn't even look at Lester. How do you run out of gas? I kept asking myself this in my head over and over. Tick-tock, I was losing a night's sleep minute by minute.
We happened to pull over at a spot where one of those haunted houses take place every October. At this location, next to a corn field in which haunted wagon rides are conducted, there was a large plane's fuselage in an unfenced lot. This wreckage was also used in the haunted house tour. It was nearing 1am and that plane was about the spookiest thing I'd ever seen in my life. It was quiet as a graveyard, but there was a little breeze which would whip a plastic tarp hanging over the doorway to the fuselage. We dared each other to go into the plane, but "fuck you" was the usual reply.
The tow-truck didn't show up until about 3am. I had to get up for work at about 4am. By the time I'd get home from Lester's, I would only have time to shower and head to work, having to do a very physical job on no sleep. On the way home, I debated on what I would do; I could call in sick or tell the truth and see what happened. I'd used a couple of sick days in Decemeber and didn't want them to pile up, so I decided that I'd call my boss and lay it out for him.
I got home and my wife was getting up for work. She was worried sick and pretty pissed off that she couldn't get a hold of me. The cellphone's battery had died. I explained to her the situation and called the boss. He laughed at the stupidity of Lester and was pretty understanding overall. But since I'd told him the truth and our company required a doctor's note for absences anyway, I'd have to use my one floating holiday to get the day off. This was January 18th; I would have to go the entire rest of the year without this personal day to use at my leisure. I was upset, but my boss was being pretty cool about the whole thing and I just wanted to go to bed. Mary went to work and I hit the hay.
To this day, whenever I use my one personal floating holiday, I refer to it as my "Lester". Need the day off after Super Bowl? No problem, I'll use my Lester. Add a day to extend your vacation? Use your Lester. Run out of gas in No Man's Land? Don't worry 'bout it..........use your Lester.
Anyway, we talked a little to the high school kids in the first row as we poured the contents from our tiny bottles of liquor into our sodas. They watched the liquid gurgle into the styrofoam cups like a dog watches you take a steak off of the barbecue. We asked them if this was a cool town to grow up in. Short answer: "No". Long answer: "Not really, dude". But they were stoked that a relatively large act was playing right there in Porterville. On the downside, they had to see the concert on the campus of their high school, the last place they wanted to be on a weekend. They seemed like nice guys, so Chet warned them that things could get physical during Galactic Cowboys' set. They laughed nervously, but didn't seem to believe him.
All of us downed our first round of drinks. We were so happy with ourselves, that we decided to just go ahead and have the final round right then and there. People behind us probably wondered why six guys raised their Pepsis and toasted each other. Then the lights dimmed and Galactic Cowboys took to the stage. Randy, Eric, Chet and I were pretty big fans of GC and we'd seen them before when they opened for Dream Theater on a crazy last minute trip to S.F. (Now there's a Hazy Memory to write about someday). Chris and Lester had only heard of them from us.
The four of us stood up, yelling and singing along. Chris and Lester didn't know the words to any songs, but laughed as they stood up to shove us around in a mock moshpit. Let me tell you, it's kind of hard to mosh around in a row of theater seats. We ended up more like a human set of those desktop silver balance balls known as a Newton's Cradle.
One person would shove from one end of the row and the person on the other end of the six of us would get the brunt of the force. This ended when both ends pushed at once and Randy got squished and pretty pissed. Eric nudged me and nodded behind us. I turned around and saw that the theater hadn't filled in much at all. It seemed that only the first 8 rows were occupied and they weren't filled from aisle to aisle at that. I wasn't surprised but had hoped for better.
Galactic Cowboys continued onward into their set, but still had not played Pump Up The Spacesuit, my favorite track from their eponymous debut album. So I, along with Chet, Eric and Randy, started yelling for the tune at the end of every song. Keep in mind, we were in the second row of a low turnout. We also wanted to hear Space In Your Face, the title track to their second disc and let the band know it by bellowing the two song titles (admittedly) a little belligerently. The lead singer made a few raised eyebrowed faces once in a while and smiled to his bandmates every time we did this. After screaming for the two titles at the end of 5 consecutive songs, I roared, "C'mon man, play something with space in the title!"
Finally, he responded, "Jesus, guys, give us some time. We'll get there". He shook his head in disbelief that anyone would be so passionate about those tunes, especially in this setting. We got a kick out of this and high-fived each other moronically. After one more tune, we got what we wanted and got it good.
The frantic first notes of Pump Up The Spacesuit sent me bounding over the row of seats in front of me like someone had given me a hotfoot and I charged right up to the stage. Chet followed and we slammed into each other, laughing maniacally. When we looked back and saw that we were the only two up front in the orchestra pit, we then turned our energies towards the high schoolers in the front row. We thrashed them soundly, but kept it clean. It was disappointing that they did not reciprocate. I felt kind of like the Samsonite gorilla.
It wasn't long before a shell-shocked young man came up to us in mid-mosh and tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around, coiled to spring, when I saw that this guy was a little scared. He put his hands out in a gesture of "hey, it's cool" and leaned in to yell into my ear. "You guys can't be doing that in here", he said. I heard him just fine but still gave him a "Huh-wha?" and gave Chet a shot to the chest. Chet almost levelled me with a shoulder charge to my left side and as I righted myself, I looked up at the guy and asked him what the problem was. He mumbled something about insurance and I nodded, immediately thinking that this could be the guy that paid out for King's X. Chet overheard as well and we both chilled out, not wanting to ruin this guy's gig. We climbed back over the first row of seats and spent the time during Galactic Cowboys' segue into Space In Your Face shoving around Chris, Eric, Randy and Lester in our row.
After GC's set, they came out to the edge of the stage and signed autographs. They could not get enough of us. They were impressed that someone out there knew their material. Eric and the guitar player, Wally Farkas, are both of Hungarian decent and had a pretty cool conversation about that fact. I had the band sign a promo photo and got a guitar pick from Wally.
We didn't have to wait long until King's X took the stage. With the same huge Texas state flag as a backdrop that Galactic Cowboys used (both bands are from the Lone Star State), the trio busted into "Groove Machine" and most of the crowd pulled a Tony and charged right up to the stage, albiet more peacefully. The six of us from Row 2 did as well and we got pummelled by the power of the band's sound.
Staying true to form that I not give you a "by the numbers" review here, I will skip most of the commentary that I could bore the most ardent King's X fan with. But I have to say that this was among the finest performances I've seen from this band. Chet, Eric and I had run into someone travelling with the band in the lobby before the show and he commented that the setlist would feature at least four songs from the album "Ear Candy". I really thought that this was their weakest album and could not understand why they would feature such lame material live. But after seeing them perform those four songs, the album "came alive" for me. It really breathed new life into "Ear Candy". (I can only hope that this holds true for material off of the latest release from King's X, "Black Like Sunday". Peeyuu!)
Another moment that stands out for me was when lead singer/bassist Doug Pinnick noticed a man in a wheelchair down in front of the elevated stage. In between songs, he invited the guy up to the stage so as to have a better view. The guy in the wheelchair got to see the next few songs from a spot just to the side of Doug Pinnick. I'm sure it was cool for him, but maybe also a little awkward knowing that many people were looking at him instead of the band. But it was a great gesture on the part of the band. I saw this demonstrated again a couple of years later when Doug noticed some little kids in the audience and invited them to stand up by the stage (in front of guys like me). Doug is such a genuine stage presence that nobody up front blinked when these Munchkins wound their way throught the crowd and rocked out face to face with King's X.
The show ended and we decided to wait around out back and get some autographs from King's X. Seeing as this was a very small crowd, we figured it wouldn't take long. Drummer Jerry Gaskill and Doug Pinnick came out and signed a bunch of stuff, taking pictures with fans and shaking hands. We got our stuff signed and said our "thank yous" and hit the road back to Fresno.
We decided to stop and get some water and sodas for the trip back home. I was looking forward to a nap in the back seat of the van because I had to get up at 5am to get ready for work. At this time, I estimated that I would get at least five hours of sleep and I could deal with that just fine. In the gas station's mini-mart, I picked up a Gatorade while the other guys picked out their stuff. The fatigue was setting in now and I just wanted to get home. Traffic shouldn't be bad at this time of night, I thought, and we should make good time getting to Fresno.
We pulled out of the gas station's lot and got underway. We all were speaking excitedly about the night's show, laughing at my Spacesuit escapade and generally talking loudly over each other. It was then that I thought I'd heard Lester say something like, "Hmm, I'm kinda low on gas". But I assumed that he was just saying that meaning that he'd be really low by the time we got home and he wouldn't have gotten gas money out of us.
Even among all the shouting and laughing, I was able to nod off for a while. I stirred once and at that time the van's occupant's had quieted, perhaps overtaken by fatigue themselves. I only heard the faint sound of the classic rock station Lester had on and the hum of the road beneath the wheel well I sat over. This was my chance to get some good winks. I dug my shoulder into the corner of the bench seat and drifted off..........
I got some good sleep until we pulled up to Chris' house in Sanger. We said our good-byes and I thought maybe I could sleep the rest of the 20 minutes or so it would take to get to Lester's where my car awaited. I leaned back and was back in dreamland before I knew it.
My slumber was interupted by a sickening feeling; the familiar lurch of a vehicle running out of fuel. I sat up and looked out the window and saw no signs of civilization. "You've got to be shittin' me", I croaked.
"What's going on?", asked Chet.
"Well, I'm out of gas", answered Lester. "I told you guys I was low". He pulled the dead van over to the side of the road.
I said, "Yeah, low. Not out. Why didn't you pump up earlier tonight?"
"I told you guys I was low, but nobody seemed to care", he whined.
"I heard you say something", said Eric, "but I didn't think you were that low".
"See, I did say something about it", said Lester.
"Wait. Wait a minute. I heard that too. But we were just pulling out of Porterville when you said that. Why didn't you turn around and go back to the gas station when you realized you were almost out of gas?", I asked, trying to keep it calm.
"Well, I said something and nobody said anything back, so I just kept going", he explained.
I was taken aback. "You....you needed someone to agree with you to turn back? Are you five years old? What the hell.....?"
Lester said nothing. We were at a country road intersection and it was around 12:30am. I happened to have a cellphone and Chet called AAA for a tow-truck. We were in the perfect spot; too far from Chris' house and too far from the outskirts of Fresno. We'd have to wait it out.
The phone's battery was dying and Chet was trying to explain to the dispatcher where exactly we were. Meanwhile, I got out and took a walk. I could not believe this and couldn't even look at Lester. How do you run out of gas? I kept asking myself this in my head over and over. Tick-tock, I was losing a night's sleep minute by minute.
We happened to pull over at a spot where one of those haunted houses take place every October. At this location, next to a corn field in which haunted wagon rides are conducted, there was a large plane's fuselage in an unfenced lot. This wreckage was also used in the haunted house tour. It was nearing 1am and that plane was about the spookiest thing I'd ever seen in my life. It was quiet as a graveyard, but there was a little breeze which would whip a plastic tarp hanging over the doorway to the fuselage. We dared each other to go into the plane, but "fuck you" was the usual reply.
The tow-truck didn't show up until about 3am. I had to get up for work at about 4am. By the time I'd get home from Lester's, I would only have time to shower and head to work, having to do a very physical job on no sleep. On the way home, I debated on what I would do; I could call in sick or tell the truth and see what happened. I'd used a couple of sick days in Decemeber and didn't want them to pile up, so I decided that I'd call my boss and lay it out for him.
I got home and my wife was getting up for work. She was worried sick and pretty pissed off that she couldn't get a hold of me. The cellphone's battery had died. I explained to her the situation and called the boss. He laughed at the stupidity of Lester and was pretty understanding overall. But since I'd told him the truth and our company required a doctor's note for absences anyway, I'd have to use my one floating holiday to get the day off. This was January 18th; I would have to go the entire rest of the year without this personal day to use at my leisure. I was upset, but my boss was being pretty cool about the whole thing and I just wanted to go to bed. Mary went to work and I hit the hay.
To this day, whenever I use my one personal floating holiday, I refer to it as my "Lester". Need the day off after Super Bowl? No problem, I'll use my Lester. Add a day to extend your vacation? Use your Lester. Run out of gas in No Man's Land? Don't worry 'bout it..........use your Lester.
posted by Tony at 6:02 PM
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