And so it came to pass...
that on the morning of Saturday March 16th in the year of our Lord 2002, Rube Waddell a band of three merry adventurers sallied forth to conquer and lay waste to the town of Reno, Nevada -- the self proclaimed: "Biggest Little City in the World." Never before had Rube Waddell the band, the triumvirate of Hams, the Kings of Schreckengost, the champions of Leeds, ever played Reno. Anyway, we picked up our Man, Mark "Punk-Ass" Growden at his new wherehouse/home, and, braving the vicious threats and vitriolic language of his room mate's dog ( a stubby red-faced pitbull) we managed to load "The Bitch" with the various tools by which Growden has kept himself poor over the years: Bari sax, banjo, accordion. Thus encumbered we set sail for the distant shores of Reno. The following is a list of the salient events of the mini tour to Reno this past weekend. Categorized chronologically for your convenience.
Captain's Log Stardate: 3/16/02 (Rocking "the Reno 14")
1. 4pm... We pick up Mark Growden. As he steps into the van we are all overwheled with a sudden and irrepressible urge for junk food and meat wagon tacos. Potato chips, tacos, (carne, pollo, al pastor) Fig Newtons, trail mix, peanuts and coconut Ding Dongs are purchased and quickly consumed.
2. 8pm... After much discussion with the inept (though well-meaning) proprietor of the Phillips 66 station off I 80 outside Auburn CA, chains are purchased for the rear wheels of "The Bitch." We are slightly concerned about the broken heater. But decide, like the iron-willed men we are, to brave the icey climes of Donner pass without it.
3. 9pm... Captain Legit driving heroically thru Antarctic conditions of Donner pass is repeatedly questioned by Punk-Ass Growden: "Captain, do you have much experience driving in snow?"
4. 9:15 pm... Mahatma Boom Boom heroically volunteers to put chains on rear wheels of "The Bitch." (Mark "Punk-Ass" Growden proves handy with flashlight and nubs). During this agonzing procedure, lying in the slush by the side of the road we discover that, for some reason, the rear left wheel of "the Bitch" is mysteriously larger than the right rear wheel. Whereas two nubs are required for the fastening of chains on the right rear wheel, only one nub is required for the left rear wheel. Not sure why this is, but suspect possible space-time anomally. Rev. Wupass appears much affected by blizzard-like conditions. His hands and feet show signs of swelling. I propose extra rations of Pemmican and possible tea-bag therapy to releave the frostbite on his face.
5. 10pm... We arrive at the Jazz Club of Reno. No feeling in our hands, feet. A crowd of approximately 22 Renans awaits us.
6. 10:30 pm... Before Mark Growden has actually played his first note, five patrons of The Jazz Club of Reno stand up and leave. Where were they going these busy patrons of the arts? These strange Renans? Were they unimpressed with the myriad variety of "tools of ignorance" which we brought along? Are there many Baritone sax playing, accordion jamming, banjo picking, blow up doll musicians in Reno? Did my giant Sousaphone not impress them in some small way? Alas we will never know.
7. 10:30pm - 11:30 pm... Despite small crowd of meek -- and for the most part -- subdued hunter gatherers, Mark Growden succeeds in rocking the house, converting many of these primitive animists to his strange and uniquely satisfying blend of woeful monotheistic paens and dirges of sensual (blow-up) fuckboy delight. (It should be noted that in his rocking out, Mark "Punk Ass" Growden was joined by various and sundry members of the band: Rube Waddell, and that his rocking-out set list did, in fact, include the hit song: Mohandas)
8. 11:30 - 1:00... Rube Waddell straps on the jammy pack and rocks "the Reno 14." (Those 14 audience members left to us after Growden had his way with their wives and children) Strange conversations are initiated with a man from Marseilles named Christopher. Opium Steaks may have been involved. Despite total inebriation Captain Legit manages to play reasonably well. This is due to the sober dependability of Rev. Wupass' workmanlike approach to the evening's activities. Never once did the mighty Wupass stray. Mahatma BB on fire all night. Rockin "the Reno 14," with Jezebel and Mannix (in particular).
9. 1:00 - 2:15am.... Most of "the Reno 14," stay afterwards to talk to Rube Waddell, exchange e-mails, buy cds etc. Drinking is going on. Drunkenness and debauchery too. Punk-Ass Growden leaves with the beautiful, conquered queen of some local chieftain.
10. 2:30am... Our man behind the bar, Alex, hooks us up with two free rooms at the Ramada Inn. Dan, who booked the show, proves to be a true Rube and a stout fellow!
11. 3:30.... Rube Waddell, the band, hits the floor at the Silver Legacy Casino. Captain Legit immediately loses 43 dollars in slot machines and black jack. Mahatma Boom Boom, ahead for a while, ends up 10 dollars in the hole. The mighty Rev. Wupass alone shows winnings -- although somehow, unbeknownst to the rest of us, he manages to squander the 80 dollars that he had initially won.
12. 4:00am.... Black Jack Dealer, Jackie, reprimands Capn Legit for asking advice from Wupass, saying: "Don't ask him. He knows nothing."
13. 5:30... back to hotel room for 5 hours of sleep before return trip to San Francisco. Never has a hotel room been so welcome.
14. 6:00am -- 11:00am..... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
15. 11:00am -- 2:00pm..... our day begins well. We pack the van. We find the breakfast buffet at the Silver Legacy Casino and eat the greatest single breakfast ever consumed by men of mortal birth. Things are looking good.
16. 2:30 -- 8pm .... About two miles outside of Reno the traffic comes to a complete halt. The traffic remains completely stationary, (ie: fixed, immobile, unmoving), for the next 5.5 hours. Yes five and a half fucking hours in a heaterless (ie: cold as shit) van ("The Bitch") at the top of Donner Pass (where, of course, there is a long and agonizing history of cannibalsim and death).
17. 7:00pm..... The honorable Rev Wupass wanders off into the snow to piss and is lost down a giant crack (Black Crevasse) in the ice. Only through the heroic efforts of Mahatma Boom Boom and Cap'n Legit is he rescued -- frost bitten and fingerless -- from the hole (this is an exaggeration; although his whereabouts were unknown to us for a good 45 minutes the good Reverend finally returned from his peeing/scouting mission with useful information about what was causing the delay; information that proved helpful in calming our minds and giving us hope that we might eventually escape our night of hell. Nevertheless, there were several less than happy moments when the Mahatma and I (Capn Legit) wandered up and down the Trail of Tears (our new name for I-80) calling for our lost comrade and asking other immobile travellers if they had seen the mighty Wupass wander by.
18. 8:35..... Hungry, desperate, freezing we decide to draw lots. Mark Growden loses. He is quickly (and unceremoniously) dispatched and eaten. This, of course, is true.
19. 8:30 pm.... we lose one of the chains on our rear tire, but thanks to a friendly savage, are permitted to cross Donner Pass with just one. Mark Growden (resurrected and reconstituted) proves his mettle (and manhood) by dextrously avoiding death, driving "the Bitch" effortlessly across said Pass and brigning us, a tad worse for wear and tear, safely into Auburn.
20. 9:30pm.... after much argument and vociferating Rev. Wupass declares that Lyons Family Restaurant is a full notch higher on the culinary spectrum than is Denny's. We settle on Lyons and are treated to a disgusting meal of fatty meats and packaged sauces. The french onion soup looked like, as The Reverend himself so aptly put it, "a bad night in Mexico."
21. 10:30pm.... Mahatma Boom Boom, balls the jack all the way to S.F. And gets us home safe and sound...
22. 3:00am.... Lying in bed, thoughts of eating Mark Growden's liver slowly fading away.
"Seems a pity, but I do not think I can write anymore... pray God look after our people."
-- Robert Falcon Scott, 3/18/2002
