Weekend Warriors

Behold! Or... hello! This is The Unvarnished Truth --  the official blog of PDC and therapeutic vessel for every dumb thing and non sequitur I can think of.

 

 

Alpaca. Nut Butter. Monkey. Smelly.

  

A sweet, spring salutation to you, dear reader! Let us presume that spring is, indeed, here to stay. Well it damn well better! Because the Punch Drunk Cabaret spring tour is off and running with a seasonal freshness that belies the typical odiferousness oft associated with traveling minstrels.

This past weekend, we sojourned to the split-personality city of Lloydminster, Alberta only to zip across the street to Lloydminster, Saskatchewan for a benefit appearance at the Royal Canadian Legion (branch #39, fyi). There, we performed our rock & roll duty in support of the Wounded Warriors, those brave men & women in the service afflicted with PTSD.

 

 

We, the PDC Three were honoured to do our small part to help raise money for the cause. After all, veterans and those who serve our country are the reason why we're free to rock. So, under the aegis of that sobering and humbling thought in mind, we had a job to do as always.... entertain the troops, as it were. But first....

 

 

Dumpster Fire. Argle Bargle. Jam-Jams. Rugrats.

 

Some of you lovely lads & lasses may have thought to your selves: "I enjoy seeing the band perform because what they do seems so effortless!"

Granted, what you witness at a PDC concert is the final product. But before that happens, there is much planning, rehearsal, travel, truck stop tomfoolery, equipment load-in, soundcheck and agonizing wardrobe decisions. Contrary to the musician stereotype of being mere franions of fun without a care in the world, any band worth it's weight in royalties & groupies puts in the work required to bring you a satisfactory entertainment experience.

We still have a few laughs, from time to time. For instance, at soundcheck, I noticed a small gathering of wee ones in front of my mic stand. I know not why they were attracted to that particular spot. What troubled me was that if, presumably, kids like clowns then why would they be congregated directly in front of me??? Before I began to get a complex about my personal appearance or the nightmarish thought that children actually like me, Bandmeister Randy B suggested an idea for a photo op that may very well haunt me for the rest of my days. Et voila....

 

Your ol' Sawbones is as far from parent material as the universe is vast, so being around humans who are only slightly older than some items in my refrigerator is both disquieting and, I understand, comically ironic.   If that's what it takes to make new fans then a clown of rock I shall be.  

The preceding photo is not an endorsement of the product. It is simply an exercise in shenanigans.

 

 

Peeple. Turgle. Nng-Hoy Glayvin. Glug.

 

The Punch Drunk performance went well as usual, filling the Legion room with rockabilly revelry and putting willing lower extremities on the dance floor. All proverbial stops were pulled out in the form of some cover songs we rarely do, e.g., "Desire", "Tush", "Little Lion Man" (with a dash of "Ace Of Spades").

The band's obligation lies not only in creating a stimulating aural experience for the patron, but also in the pride of salesmanship. Bandmeister Randy B, Capt. Sean E. Watts and yours truly take great pains to also provide you with purchasable goods of the highest quality. Ideally, we would love to have you leave the venue with one of our songs burrowed into your brain like a chigger. But we would also have you consider a souvenir of your time with us in the coin of a compact disc, cotton t-shirt or hip flask. I don't mind saying that my Willy Loman-like skills were in fine form this evening as I sold three of the aforementioned hooch holders to a trio of lovely lasses.

 

Yep. I still got it.

 

 

Lagomorph. Abracapocus. Hasenpfeffer.

 

Part of the Wounded Warriors fundraising was a silent auction. Many items of desiress were on display; in particular, one (1) live, regulation, bunny-type rabbit. There was incredible pressure from some members of the audience on me to make a bid for this furry little beastie. Now I've seen enough totally believable movies and TV to know what a hare is capable of no matter how cute & cuddly it is. But I did try to bond with the creature in hopes of making a connection. And the verdict is....

 

 

... that rabbits are highly suspicious of men in top hats. 'Nuff said.

 

 

Roger Wilco 

 

'Twas such a great evening playing for such wonderful folks for a wonderful cause! Our host who guided us thru it all was our new friend, Ryan Ference. I didn't catch his rank, for which I apologize, but he is one of the many men and women in this country who are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice just so that it's citizens can be free to be free. And that includes the likes of us, your ever humble and grateful PDC'ers.

Sawbones and our new pal, this guy, Ryan Ference

 

And that, fellow Canadians, is the unvarnished truth.

 

 

Sawbones