I'd forgotten we were Rockstars (Day 20)

GD's "I'm a super cool musician" face

                Another temperate morning inside the tent. After breaking our fast on beans and eggs, we needed to get down to business. Due bad luck and our inexperience in the world of touring, we hadn't played a show in a week. I had even forgotten the reason why we were on the road: to play rock and roll. But that night we had a paying gig in Brandon, Manitoba, which the tragically hip named “the Paris of the Prairies.” I was amped. We practiced the morning away to rock tight that night. Would the heart of the wheat empire be ready for this group of rockers far from home?

It's getting flatter

                We embarked that afternoon. It was our first drive on the Prairies. The novelty lasted about five minutes. At least Northern Ontario had big jagged rocks and lake side views; the Prairies were flat as far as the eye could see. To pass the time, I contemplated forms of land usage; I was asleep ten minutes later. So was everyone else.

                I awoke to Greg swerving the van on the ribbed shoulder to wake us up wordlessly. We had arrived in Brandon. It was the weekend of Brandon folk fest and we were unable to find a campsite, so we found the cheapest motel and told management only two of us were sleeping there. We supped on tuna sandwiches and got ready. The photo Greg to sent to the venue was from a show at Trois Minots when we wore suits and put pomade in our hair. We decided  we needed to live up to this image. We put on our finest slacks, made our hair pretty, and rolled out to the bar.  

5 guys in one motel room was surprisngly comfortable

                The venue was called the Double Decker Tavern, an English pub that derives its name from having two floors. As I went back to grab stuff from the van, I discovered a large group of drunken females. They were part of a bachelorette party and were heading to the venue. They swarmed me upon discovering I was with the band. They even asked me to pose in a photo suggestively pressing one of them on the van; then, I signed her breast. It doesn’t get more rock and roll than this. Was this going to be the sex filled night that the Argyles have been dreaming of?

They had trouble making it  to the upper deck

Dowling cleans up nice

                Unfortunately, they departed just after Greg began his acoustic set. It was not to be. A skeleton crowd remained. But we went all out just the same and people were getting into it. One couple shifted to the other side of the table so they could watch us play. Most clapped at the end of every song. After our first set, the couple bought us a round of drinks and a man from Montreal bought a CD. 

                The bands pressed on from such a positive reception. Martin played his set with Greg and Matt filling in as the rhythm section. There was some turnover in the crowd and by the start of the Argyles second set, we ended playing for one man and the barmaids with a few onlookers further back. But they seemed to enjoy it anyways. At the end of our final, this man bought us another round. We talked to him and the gesture was driven by a misplaced sense of pity out of playing for an empty bar. He had been a musician once as well. But we didn’t mind: the set had gone well; we won over locals; and, if that wasn’t good enough, put $200 worth of gas in the van. A successful evening by my counts. I think we've got that Prairie sound down.