"Gonna have to finish that before you come in."
"Ohf...mvf...kay," I choked out. "When...doefs...Sfwich...foot...goef...on?"
"Nine-thirty. You can wash that down by then," he smirked back at me.
"Are you Ron?" I asked.
"How do you know him?" he asked.
"I don't. Talked to him on the phone today briefly. I used to work for the band's label in Nashville."
"Do you need some water to go with that pretzel?"
And so then and there, I met Zeus, the band's bus driver.
The bus drivers are, by far, some of the most interesting roadies you can meet. And I'd like to befriend anyone with the name Zeus. I don't know, it just sounds like the phrase, "Let me call my friend Zeus," might be handy one day.
He ended up walking me backstage. (Thanks anyway, $22 ticket.) And then it got weird.
He walked me onto one bus, where drummer Chad Butler was hanging out. Chad never remembers. And that's okay. I didn't really need to go say "Hi." I was just stuck with Zeus, who felt the need to tour me around. I must have been believable as a friend/former co-worker of the band. (Bands, be glad I use my powers for good and not evil.) Anyway, it was completely awkward, "Hi, Chad, you probably don't remember me..."
Yeah, he didn't and he awkwardly brushed me off the bus.
So we went to the next bus and I met Ron, the road manager. He seemed a bit high strung for a road manager, but nice enough. And Jerome was there. Yes, Jerome who I met the first time probably when I was about 19 and a writer for Syndicate magazine. He and a guy named Jyro fronted the bands Mortal and Fold Zandura in the '90's. So we chit-chatted and watched a bit of a Chevy Chase movie. Then Zeus and I took our leave.
Once the show began, we stood stage right and watched. Hence these "behind-the-scenes" photos below.
Just Jonathan.
Jerome, Jon, Tim.
Zeus left me. Then Ron kicked me out and told me to go get my passes. I rathered watching from the audience-view anyway. I was impressed. The band was good. I've probably seem them tank more shows than actually nail them, so I was relieved and excited to see their progress as performers. It took a lot of work on the behalf of my former label boss to get this band is good shape. Talent is important, but working hard is more so. The hall was nearly sold out. I thought that was excellent for New York City on a Friday night.
Afterward, I had to wait around with the other Aftershow Pass holders. Finally, when Switchfoot came out, everyone passed me by, but Jon, who smiled and said, "Hey, how ya' doin'?" and shook my hand. I said, "Good! Go talk to everyone and we'll catch up at the end."
Jerome and I chatted. He pained my heart by talking about his residence in Southern California with a view of the ocean. I miss California a lot. I still think I'd like to end up there again, eventually.
When Jon came back around, I asked about his new nephew Peter, who was born shortly after I moved from Nashville. We had an entire conversation, then he said, "Oh my gosh, I totally didn't even realize who you were." Some thoughts should remain inside of your head, I thought. But I suppose I was relieved that his countenance changed to a more familiar one as we finished our chat. There's a Switchfoot endorsed web 'zine in the works, and it looks like I'll be involved in that. (Stay tuned!)
I was quite depressed as I meandered back to the train station and on home. But I realized, as of late, I see them on TV regularly, and listen to their records all the time. I, on the other hand, make an appearance in their lives only occasionally now. It still hurt. And I'll kick their arses if it happens again.
As for Zeus, maybe he'll call when he's back in New York driving Snoop Dogg around.
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