Rain Of Terror

Wednesday February 29th, 2012 - Fox Lake, IL/Blacksburg, VA

   Oh, my aching everything. Just when I thought nothing could get worse, everything has. I don’t know where to start. I wish I could transport myself to a parallel universe and start my life over again. This is one of those days I wouldn’t have believed unless I’d lived it.

   My situation today was a rotten apple from the start. I originally had a nicely paying gig in Morgantown, WV teaching a seminar and doing a show. I was able to rustle up a gig in Blacksburg, VA from a different booker for tonight to help take care of travel expenses.

   I wasn’t going to cancel tonight on short notice, even though I should have. I said I’d do it, and good or bad I’m a man of my word. A deal’s a deal, and this time I had to suck the pipe. I’d been to Blacksburg before, and it was always a decent gig. It was in the lounge at a Holiday Inn, and we stayed right there. I wasn’t aware that it was no longer held there.

   The booker hadn’t told me anything. I heard it from the guy who used to host the hotel shows, a local DJ. He dropped the news via email, and I had immediate second thoughts about making that long drive for no good reason. I wanted to back out after that email.

   I said I’d do it, so I got in my car at 4am to make it out of Chicago before traffic would be an issue. There can still be traffic problems at any time in Chicago, but the chances are good for a trouble free escape at 4am. Actually, by the time I got into the city it was close to 5. I live so far out in the sticks it takes almost an hour to get to the city. That’s a hassle.

   A bigger hassle was the icy cold rain I felt pounding on my forehead as I went to my car from the house. I hadn’t planned on that, and it slowed me down considerably. It’s always something, and this was the glitch of the day that threw a monkey wrench into everything.

   I made it through Chicago, but not as fast as I’d have liked. The rain was on and off for the entire trip, but mostly on. I got to Cincinnati and heard on the radio there was a severe weather alert for exactly where I was going, and it was scheduled to last all afternoon and into the evening. Just what I would need as I tried to navigate my way through mountains.

   Interstate 77 is a road I’m all too familiar with. It’s a gorgeous drive with steep hills and dangerous curves through the mountains of West Virginia. I’ve taken it several times, and it’s a smorgasbord of scenery. It’s also a treacherous terrain, and even scarier in the rain.

   As soon as I crossed into Huntington, WV out of Ashland, KY I saw the clouds get dark and so did my spirits. Weather warnings were all over the radio, and I knew I’d be in for a nasty ride. My time was getting short, and all I could do was suck it up and keep moving.

   What a horror filled roller coaster ride it was the entire way from Charleston, WV to my final destination in Blacksburg, which I never thought I’d make. I’ve had to do more than my share of hellacious drives in my life, but this was right up there with the worst of them all. The more I drove, the more it rained, and harder at that. It was one giant stress-a-thon.

   I didn’t want to stop to call, as that would have made me even later. I didn’t want to talk or text while driving either, as I was afraid to take my eyes off the road for a half a second in such brutal weather. I was on a very tight time schedule, and needed to get to the gig.

   The itinerary said it was an 8pm start. Often that’s not the case, but I couldn’t risk it and had to assume that was the show time. I’ve seen it go both ways, and my luck I’d show up only a few minutes late and get docked my entire pay. On this day, it was all or nothing.

    As I wound my way through the mountain roads, my gas supply became a concern that needed attention. Should I try to make it all the way, or stop for a fill up knowing it would use up valuable time? I chose to fill up, but getting off the highway was not an easy task.

   I can totally do without any of this stress, and I have to say I was hating the cause of my very existence most of the way through West Virginia as I put the choke hold of death on my steering wheel. I’m surprised I haven’t died after all the drives like this I’ve had in my life. This was a bad one, but there have been many others. I’ve been in harm’s way a lot.

   As I got off I-77, the pounding rain got even harder as I headed east on US Route 460. It was a biblical downpour, and the two lane road was pitch black and wound through towns I’ve never heard of. It was worse than the previous few hours, which sure weren’t a picnic themselves. What a hellish drive, and had I been able to think straight I’d have stopped.

   But I didn’t. I said I was going to make it, and I fully intended to do that. I did pull up to the gig at 7:55 Eastern Time - a full five minutes to spare. I got soaked walking across the parking lot, only to walk in the sports bar where the show was to be and was told it would not start until 9:30. I laughed out loud, and the bouncer who told me thought I was crazy.

   He was right. I WAS crazy to make that insane drive through weather and mountains to work at a sports bar that could hold no more than 60 people. They hadn’t even hooked up the sound system yet, and I looked around the room and wanted to end my life right there. I put in all that effort for THIS? And to make it worse, nobody was over the age of 25.

   I walked back outside in the rain and back to my car to grab an hour of sleep. I wouldn’t be able to do anything about the situation, and walking away now wouldn’t do any good. I already made the decision to show up, even though I didn’t want to. Now I needed to do a show for a group of people who could all be my children. The hurdles kept getting higher.

   I was able to pull off a show, even though it wasn’t easy. I was on a tiny ’stage’ that had been made out of plywood and stuck in the corner of the room too close to the bathrooms. There were two dim ’lights’ above the stage, but I didn’t mind that nobody could see me.

   They were actually very nice people, and ended up having a good time. But they had no idea how much effort went into getting there, and they shouldn’t. It wasn’t their fault. It’s mine. What a nightmare, but I did honor my word and I was proud of myself for that even though nobody else cares. I’d rather go down with dignity than be a jerk and get ahead.

Posted via email from Dobie Maxwell's "Dented Can" Diary