Flu has hit UHTC hard and little by little, logistical perplexities come out of the grains. We have postponed the next two shows which are arena gigs; as mentioned in the March 6 entry, we carry a slightly different setup for arena performances than theatre gigs. Now that our next show is in the Chicago Theatre, we must pack the trucks accordingly. We would have done this after the Winnipeg show, but since that’s not happening, we have little choice but to do it today. Well, it gets us out and about, doesn’t it?
When we arrived at the venue, the trucks were positioned inside, thank heavens. I had visions of unloading them in a freezing parking lot, but we were spared the injustice. The Winning Team’s mission was to get the ‘merch’ out. As well as repacking and relocating unnecessary rigging boxes and big speakers for the theatre show, we must also get rid of the merchandise. Due to import/export laws, we can’t cross the US border with merch; if we had done the Regina and Winnipeg shows, MerchMan Tom would’ve had the time and space to separate it all, but since we have a new schedule to follow, it was imperative that we get rid of the merch here in Regina.
The problem with the scenario is, all the merch lives in the front of the backline trailer; around 50 feet of equipment is in the way. So rather than unload all that heavy matériel, we clambered over the top of the gear and made a fire-bucket line: from the front, which had to be dug, clearing boxes out of the way, through tight, confined spaces, all the way back. The result was five pallets of merch, and not that I’m complaining, but some of it was pretty heavy after a while, and it all had to be lifted over my head; I passed it to Dan above whose feet were barely positioned on the lip of a flightcase; he in turn twisted his body to get the boxes onto Benni, who passed them on to Chris, who, through our makeshift mine, got them to Tom; one by one, they all made it out.
All in all I’m pleased we got out today and did a bit of work; to be honest that’s probably the hardest I’ve worked since ‘helping’ my brother-in-law landscape our ex-crappy garden at home. The crisps and cookies to follow were well-deserved. Yes, this does sound like a child writing about cleaning his room.
We arrived at the venue in taxis and we made to leave the same way. However one generous local crew guy offered to ferry six people in his van back to the hotel and we drew the lucky lots. But his van didn’t seat an extra six, it seated four passengers — Tom and I sat on a bunch of fucking power tools and splintered wood while our saviour stood on the friggin’ accelerator. In the end I sat on a hard-hat, like you see in the movies: a scared private sitting in a helicopter, on his helmet. It’s good to get out.
Yesterday, Bus Driver Wayne dropped off the xbox; we owe him a beer. Dan and I rounded off today with some Zombie action.