October 19. Dublin. Originally this was supposed to be a day off. Who needs those? We were only on day 3 and didn’t quite need one yet, especially when a day off usually just becomes an excuse to not take it easy. Plus, we would be taking an overnight ferry from Liverpool (the home of The Beatles) to Dublin, Ireland, a place I have always wanted to see. For the people who had already experienced this ferry ride, like the guys in Zebrahead & Bowling for Soup, some were weary of staying in the bus, parked in the bowels of the ship, rocking back and forth with the ocean. I didn’t blame them, but of course I overslept and missed the party that went to the deck. Luckily I was tired enough to sleep through the waves. We woke in a truck and bus stop outside Dublin, waited for the BFS bus to return and then drove to the club to load in. I was glad to be awake for this drive, even though it was short. Downtown Dublin was an amazing sight. Bobby had been here enough that it seemed like we were on a Dublin sight seeing bus. We unloaded the trailer, hundreds of pedestrians looking on as they passed on bicycles, mopeds, or on foot. Grabbing our bags out of the side compartment was the trick however, as railcars full of passengers quietly snuck up the street and sped by.
We took it all in. Or at least we tried. We loaded in the gear and then hit the streets. We were full on tourists now, cameras and all. Not only that, but after crossing the river over a white, high-arched bridge we came to street after street of shops. Restaurants, pubs, gift shops, record stores, etc. I bought my Mom a keychain that said Mum on it. Yep, All-American Tourist. Back to the show, it was time to play, and although this was a last minute show and the crowd was smaller, it was still a great experience. There were probably 400 or so kids, all pretty pumped that this show was happening, and it seemed as though they were grateful that the tour made the special trip. That night we took the ferry back over the rough Atlantic and I was sure not to miss the party this time. While the rest of the band slept below deck, (or tried, as I would find out later) I stayed up on deck, watching live streams of Monday Night Football from America and browsing on my laptop. The sea was so rough that even on the top you could feel it rocking. I went outside and within a few seconds I was covered with mist. However, drinks at the bar on top of the ferry seemed safer than being in a bunk on a bus, below deck.
October 20. Cambridge. Again, up sometime in the afternoon, stumbling into the venue and walking through a great empty music hall on the way to the dressing rooms. Not going to bed until after the ferry had landed didn’t help. It was always interesting to see the venue through squinty, waking eyes, knowing that in about 5 hours the place would be packed with kids waiting for you to play. Everything was bigger, there was just more of any given thing. Kurt and I took a walk into town, saw Cambridge University, and found ourselves a cafe and a gift shop where we could buy some postcards, etc. I bought my sister a shot glass (for her collection, as I often do) and some postcards and stamps. For some reason, finding the time to do such things just slips away, so we had to do it when we got the chance. Perhaps if I didn’t sleep so much…The venue was massive. Not only in capacity but just in sheer dimensions. There was a whole 2nd tier off stage left and curving around to probably 300 or so more seats that came down from the back. The daily routine stayed the same. Showered, ate some ham, turkey & cheese sandwiches, sound-checked, and waited to play. We stuck to handing out stickers to everyone in line. That is if the security would let us. We also tried to stick to personally going to the merchandise table after our set. It was a good way to connect to the audience, and especially to gain new fans who may have liked us.
October 21. Margate. No one had heard of this town. Sometimes these shows are the best though. I woke up and the bus was parked on a stone side road, right next to the ocean. It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been raining. The ocean was a solid grey and it looked cold. Everything was wet today. We loaded in with the rain pouring. I walked from our dressing room, downstairs through the leaking, dripping basement, and up to take a shower. I didn’t do anything today. The rain made me feel like staying in the dressing room. I didn’t go out and see the town of Margate. I didn’t go and hand out stickers to the kids in line. I worked on some homework for my online class, ate sandwiches, and then played our show. The thing is, I was just going through the motions, but it didn’t matter, the show was still amazing, and I realized what made this all worthwhile. The kids. Without them, we wouldn’t be here, and the fact that they were so psyched on everything that happened no matter what is something to behold. I wish I could harness it, turn it into a prescription drug and give it to governments worldwide.
October 22. Birmingham. The home of ELO and Black Sabbath. If this town can produce such world-renowned acts, how could the show not be good? We woke up parked outside the back of the venue and loaded in. Birmingham is one of the bigger cities in England, and the skyline holds that to be true. We walked through giant outdoor malls and drifted through a cool music shop. Matt found a dozen roses in a dumpster and took them in hopes of giving them to a lucky female fan later. We had to go back to our dressing room for an interview, so we turned around. Almost getting lost on our return, we made it back just in time for our sound-check and interview. It was an odd experience fielding questions from young British students working for a University or local radio station, but it was press, and they were playing our songs on British airwaves. We were not complaining. The show went off. Birmingham came through, not only in numbers but in enthusiasm. Although some were snobby, the people who were psyched made up for it. Between songs, Matt jumped down between the stage and the barrier and handed a girl the roses that he had acquired earlier. She flailed her arms in excitement, and he jumped back on stage. Moments like these remind me why we do this.
I’m not done yet! Check back soon for Part III: The Final Chapter!