October 2, 2006 "Cha Cha Chee Boom"

10/02/2006 Wichita State University - Wichita, KS
Other bands: none

Two days to get from Denver to Wichita, and for once I don't remember what we did. I'm sure we burnt most of the daylight stretched out in bench seats or on the homemade bunk. Or in the drivers seat, or the passenger seat reading magazines or switching out a neverending rotation of albums. Watched endless horizons of brush and hill terrain, spotty farms, and one-stoplight towns with a Dairy Queen, a Subway and a granary. Played sudoku. Almost solved crossword puzzles. Listened to burnt CDs. Text messaged people back home. Watched DVDs from the library. Bought snacks at remote outpost gas stations at sunset. A prairie sunset in the fall is the most majestic thing.

I'm sure we got a motel room at 3am on the outskirts of some town where the hotel prices never break fifty bucks. And I'm sure we all humped our suitcases and sleeping bags up metal and concrete stairs and threw our personal effects where we always threw our personal effects in such motel rooms. James and Philip always slept on the floor. I always slept on a bed. So did Eric. Someone always slept out in the van.

I'm sure we woke up less than an hour before checkout and shaved and showered and coffeed and unplugged our phones and laptops, calling for multiple extensions on our checkout time. We called extensions almost every time we got a room and no one ever charged us for the extra time.

We probably stopped at Denny's or a McDonalds and got breakfast, stealing a USA Today to keep ourselves aware. And we probably stopped at the gas station with the lowest price on the block, even though they were all within three cents of each other, hoping it would cumulatively save us ten or fifteen dollars at the end of the month.

Wichita was no different than Utah or any of the other lunch stop whistle stop shows we endured. Loaded in through a side door into a student center lounge. Sat up gear on a stage riser. No posters or promotion that we could see. Maybe a mention in the student paper the day of the show.

It was maddening. It all seemed so avoidable. But we played anyway, even though we were told twice to turn down. It was too bright and we seemed too loud. I felt intrusive. Part of me just wanted to let these kids study.

There were a couple of kids that hung around to see us, dressed in their finest vintage threads. One was a girl with enormous breasts, dressed with the intent of making you aware of the fact that she had enormous breasts. It would have been more of a distraction if I hadn't been so tired. Eye candy, but the sugar rush only lasted as long as a three-minute song.


Wichita State University - Rhatigan Student Center.

The pile of postcards sits stacked neatly next to the typewriter. They are all from Mandalay and they all have the same lagoon scene and they all say “We whisper here” on the back in brittle handwritten script. It began with one, and now I receive sometimes two or three in a single drop. I tell myself I will run them up to the shut-in like a good neighbor, but each day brings a new struggle and a new opportunity to forget. Ten postcards from Mandalay borders excessive, and it seems that the shut-in upstairs keeps strange company.