From the booth

Here I sit on a Saturday evening, whiling away the time before the second performance of Grand Hotel. I type this to you as I watch the blue-hairs and tourists file in, balding heads and backwards cub hats and freakish pastel dye-jobs staring back at me. The band is now starting to tune up and I glance over at the meter modules to confirm that signal is being sent. I should really clean up some of the detrius left over from tech: coiled audio and ethernet cables of varying sizes on the floor, warped gaff, used up spray paint, empty pro-cell boxes, in front of me a box of medical tape, rubbing alcohol, red trojans, a rainbow of sharpies.
After the show tonight I think I'll ride my nifty new bicycle over to the hideout block party and hear the db's.
peace out y'all