Leaving Chicago was a blur, Double A slept through the night while the band socialized as to beat the monster morning commute Chicagoans endure every day and by the time we woke up, the RV was back in the middle of nowhere (as much of our country is, filled with nothing but field or forest). Understand, this is a groggy wake up. A party in urban Chicago Wrigleyville, after a Cubs game no less, is a far cry from scrubbing the sleepies out of your eye in an Iowa truck stop bathroom. We had an expresso and chatted with Aaron (Double A the road manager) for hours before passing out again in the RV at sunset somewhere in the middle of Nebraska. We woke again at 3:30, 15 hours after leaving Chicago, as we pulled into Denver. Trevor grabbed another four hours of shut-eye before waking, zombie-like, at 8am to drive to play a benefit for the environment at noon in Vail, a two hour haul away. One thing that must be clarified, is that Double A, our all encompassing friend, driver, chef, mechanic, roadie, photographer and life-coach is there every step of the way and our only regret is that we can't clone him (YET!, muahaha...)
But during our early morning discussion in Iowa, we mulled and slightly lamented the fact that most people have a routine that doesn't allow for the observable cross-section of American culture to make itself visible, as our lifestyle accommodates. We meet all types of people from all classes, backgrounds and politics, and it makes us better and more tolerant to absorb their viewpoints. We see truckers, cashiers, police officers, bar owners, the guy sweeping the bar floor and we talk to all of them. Most readily observable are those at the bar, inebriated beyond belligerence at 2am. It's not what they tell you, but what they show you about the way America, politicians and citizens and neighbors alike, treat those who need help the most. We'd selfishly like to think we help them with music. But observing this cross section is funny and sad and hard and easy and even fun, but it gives perspective. And it's never, ever stagnant.
Take Stillwater, OK, for example. People don't have amazing things to say about Oklahoma. We even received messages on our way there from friends who had grown up in the region, now living in Colorado, calling it "mediocore". For our mental sanity, we try and keep our expectations neutral before a gig, but then Stillwater happened. You get a vibe pretty much right when you walk into the bar or drive into a given town. You never want to pass judgement solely on a first impression, but you become reasonably good at guessing what an audience might be like that night. Stillwater had positive vibes, even on a gloomy day when OSU was out of session. The clouds cleared after a fierce rainstorm and the large, appreciative audience danced in the mud all night, bought CD's and asked for autographs outside the RV. Stillwater showed us a great time and we'll be back for sure.
Next were St. Louis and Chicago, both big, sometimes friendly Midwestern cities. The nice thing about both St. Louie and Chi-Town were the number of repeat fans we had attend after they hadn't seen a Frog's show for a year or in some cases, any of us since elementary school. Peering out into a dark club and seeing friends from childhood at your show, smiling at their friend's success, is a great feeling. In St. Louis we had three people drive into the city, just to see Frogs, after not seeing a show for over a year. Three might not sound like a lot, but that far from home, even a little bit of Frog Family around is nice and certainly pumps energy into the show.
Tour was great this time around. Grassroots publicity is all about making fans, one-by-one which is a blast, but a persistent effort, no doubt. Check out our summer Denver dates and a link to vote for us for Westword's Best Jamband in Denver Award. See you out there!
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