The Orlando Gig (Repost of A Funny Rant from A Touring Musician)

The Orlando Gig

This is a repost from a funny rant I read years ago.

Dear Band:

Please allow me to express my innermost feelings.
Know this is meant to be interpreted as a good-natured
rant from a flawed human being who wants to gently make a point to the ones he loves.

I am facing a 13+ hour drive by myself pulling a trailer for the next two days. On the way, I will eat all meals by myself and stay in some shitty hotel worrying at all times about the security of our equipment and luggage. Once I arrive in Orlando, I will have to move the trailer early every morning. I will be super nice to EVERYONE, funny all the time, do 4-30 minute sets of music for 1000+ people but not repeat any song we played for them three months ago.

I will pray that 4 people (you guys) don’t oversleep or have a problem with your flight on Friday. I will pick you up at the airport and get your room key for you.
I make sure you are fed, prepared for the Sunday show, dressed properly, and aware of showtimes.

I will grin and bear the bad sound system, the amateur choir, and any last-minute changes the client has. I will do all of this in a well pressed, coordinated, stylishly conservative, but “band-like”, clothing. (If you have ever cared anything about me, read on.)

But, this is one of two well-paying gigs I have this month and the first one I’ve had in a few weeks. AND, I didn’t pick the music for the Sunday thing. SO, (finally, the fucking point) anything you can do to make this easier for me will be appreciated.

Including, and especially, keeping all sarcastic and passive-aggressive remarks about the Sunday thing to your selves. I didn’t pick the music but the wife of the guy with the fucking check did. I and the world know you are too good to do this shitty music. Your refined ear makes it difficult for you to learn and rehearse these songs. I know it eases your pain (but increases mine) for you to approach the undertaking halfheartedly.

I’ve been lifting weights all summer and I can tell you, it’s a lot harder to pick that heavy shit up when you do not really want to pick it up. It’s EASIER to have, sorry to sound corny, a positive attitude. I also know that you are enduring some cruel cosmic joke that causes you to labor in obscurity playing in hack cover bands at Amway conventions while others with half your talent are stars. I feel your pain.

BUT, it’s one thing to be a great musician in a cover band. It’s another thing to be a great musician with a shitty attitude in a cover band.

Remember, no driving, you’re getting paid, your own room, out of town for the weekend, hanging on the Disney property, and, 4-30 minute sets over a three-day period.

One more thing. I know it’s funny to you to make fun of this gig and the crappy Sunday morning songs. It is your way of saying, “I’m too good to do this.” Leave the funny shit to me. I’m funnier than you will ever be, so don’t even try.

Just shut the fuck up, wear the clothes, do the gig, and get your check. You can never be as funny as me unless you go back in time and are raised by a paranoid schizophrenic with bipolar disorder in rural fucking white trash Alabama with a job picking up trash on
construction sights, brown paper sacks that sweaty fucking hillbillies have shit in. Then, you can spend the weekend at your Uncle’s pool with your molesting cousin and half-wit brother who beats the fuck out of you whenever no one is looking. After that, you can go back to your nasty house where the dogs and cats have shit all over the place and practice guitar even though no one in your family plays and you have no reason to believe that you can.

THEN, after 20 years of struggle, you can support your whole family and spend your free time wiping your Mom’s puke from your porch and bathroom. Then, you can go to 13 different fucking therapists, every twelve-step program known to man, and be baptized… ..twice. THEN you can spend your adult life being known as Fat Elvis. Then, after all that, you can fly a grown man to Disneyworld, carry him around, feed him, and pay him $550.00 to complain about learning some songs. Then, THEN, you will be as funny as me and you can make humorous remarks for everyone to enjoy about the Sunday show.

In short, every day I don’t kill myself or someone else is a Goddamn miracle. I’m glad to have this gig and I’m glad to be going out of town and I’m thankful to have you as a friend and colleague. I’m a sensitive person who wants to please everyone around me and it makes me feel bad when you seem to be bugged by what I ask you to do.

Please shut the fuck up, wear the clothes, play the songs, and don’t make me feel any worse about my life and what I ask you to do than I already do. We have a lot to be thankful for.

There are a lot of incredible players in Nashville who are working construction…..I have their fucking phone numbers.

I love you guys, see you in Florida.


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