HOLY SHIT! JAPAN TOUR DIARY – Day 1
Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow. My life up to about two weeks ago has been filled with school, beer, acting and writing, sports, hanging out, teh internetz, drugs, playing a shitload of rock music, and video games, just to name a few things. I would like to focus here on the last two subjects listed. When I was a young boy I stuck to video games like a magnet. I played them nonstop, I worshiped developers like the creator of the Mario and Zelda series Shigeru Miyamoto, I subscribed to and read magazines devoted to them, I saved and scrimped my money for new games, hell, I even worked in an Electronics Boutique for five years and managed a Tilt arcade for the same amount of time. I had (and still have) a massive collection of everything gaming. Where did most of the games I cared about come to exist? You’re right! – Japan.
From the day Andy Junk told me that a guy named Yoichi Eimori green lighted and booked a Japan tour for Holy Shit!, I kept thinking about it getting nearer and feeling small butterflies in my stomach. The weeks counted down, the minutes peeling off of the days, and like an unexpected slap to the face the day and the time came where I was loading Eric’s minivan with all my clothes and things I needed to finally realize one of my oldest dreams. FUCKING JAPAN. Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow.
Eric Schultz (drums) picked up Andy Junk (guitar) and I (bass) at our house we lovingly call 12 STEPS because it’s basically (almost literally!) 12 steps away from the liquor store across the street. We loaded up and then picked up Tabman (vocals) at the Riverside theater where he went to see Neko Case, but surprisingly got saddled with Bob Dylan’s hellspawn instead. With a long goodbye to his girl he hopped in the van and we were off to Chicago to stay with the Krunchies’ drummer Matt, and his wife Lee. When we arrived, we went straight to the Empty Bottle just in time to see our brothers from Huntsville, AL, Thomas Function. We have been connected for years now, even appearing on the back of their Celebration! 12″ record, and if you pick up Holy Shit’s brand new 10″, K.B.D. O.O.P., you might see a little love being shown back. Wink, wink. They are a three-piece, now that their bassist Travis (Another connection, he illustrated the front cover of KBDOOP) left the band, and they sounded superb despite his absence. I was really surprised. After the show, we hit up a shitty Mexican joint and went back to Matt and Lee’s apartment to shower and sleep. Well, everyone slept but me. What did I do? What do you think? I played fucking video games all night! ‘Wii Sports Resort’ and ‘Super Mario Sluggers’ on the Nintendo Wii. God, I am a Nintendo fanboy. After everyone woke up and I showered, I copied our song list for Japan on Matt’s printer for all of us to reference. Not counting songs we have retired over the years and a couple derelict covers, this list is 64 songs long. Holy shit, indeed.
Taking speed, smoking weed, drinking beer and liquor, Matt soberly drove us to O’Hare airport for our initial flight to Detroit. We boarded the plane and all the shitty memories of flying came back to me. I hate to fly. I found my seat and the poor Hispanic looking fellow sunk in his seat once he saw me. You see, I am a big motherfucker. A big one. And this plane, well, it was the shittiest and oldest plane I’d been on with seats that would make Twiggy think she was a blimpoid. That poor guy; I asked for a seat belt extension and sat my ass down next to him. Our thighs touched, and he hated it. He kept trying to twitch and maneuver so we wouldn’t touch, but I had him pinned to the window like a bird flying into a glass door. I couldn’t help but laugh as we endured the flight together, never speaking a word. Sometimes I can be an evil man.
We enjoyed a two hour layover in Detroit before our monster 13 hour flight on Deltas king vessel pride and joy: The 747. This fucker has two floors and can hold 403 people. I was relieved that the seats were bigger and I could sit next to my new buddy, a friendly Asian fellow. I asked for another seat belt extension, and then something wonderful happened: they moved my buddy to another seat immediately! What luck! I now had two seats to myself, a fat guys’ dream. Could it get better? Yes. Eric leaned over to me and pointed to the bottom of the menu. The sentence lovingly stated: Beer and wine are complimentary. We giggled and ordered drink after drink with our meals and eventually were told we could go up to the galley and request our own. About nine hours into the flight the most brilliant idea came to us – LET’S SHOTGUN A BEER! Right here, right now, on this fucking plane! We all took turns getting our beers and we sat down in our seats which were close enough to see each other. “To 64 songs!” I said and four beers were simultaneously punctured and gulped down with light speed at 30,000 feet. This is who we are. Eric continued his drunken conquest on the flight taking down fourteen glasses of wine and four beers before they cut him off. As I said in my update on my digital recorder, “Eric is visibly drunk, he stinks, he’s making whisper gestures and yelling when he talks…and I’m proud of him.” After watching Eric pass out, sleep finally took me as well and I got a couple of good hours in before we landed at Narita airport, near Tokyo.
Weird fact: It stayed daylight for the entire flight. That’s both awesome and a tad creepy. But mostly awesome.
Hours on The Fucking Plane: 15
Approximate Hours of Sleep: 2
Shows Played: 0
Total # Of Different Bands: 0
Number of Crybed Sessions: 0
Number of Shits Taken: 0
Robo-Toilets Used: 0
Alcoholic Tours: 0
Chewing Tobacco Chewed: 0
Angry and Pissed-Off Count: 0
Pieces of Chicken Displayed: 0