7/26 - Den Too

This was a fun neighborhood joint. Too bad about the construction right out front, but that didn't seem to matter to those who wanted to come out and play. There was a nice little crowd.

We set up right in front of the fire place. I'm talkin' right in front, as in our amp was almost inside the fireplace. I sure hope we don't play back there during the winter.

We made some more new friends - Mike, Randy, and Christine. Christine came up to sing and she did a really good job! There's a picture of her floating around somewhere. It'll eventually make it's way to the site.

Gene was way too cute. He was schmoozin' it up with the ladies while we were singing Ready For Love (how appropriate). I think he walked away with the most numbers that night.
The best thing about Gene is that he was getting everyone else to come out of their shell and have fun too. I think we'll keep him.

And let's not forget the Kahlua girls. C-Man announced that the girls were giving away free shots, but apparently they're not allowed to say "free". They quickly corrected us that they were giving out "samples". Whatever, it was still free. And so tasty, too. No wait, that's Vitametavegimin.

7/21 - Edison's

This place was so small you could barely change your mind in there. The drums took up most of the corner where we set up camp for the evening, but we made it through.

Speaking of drums, thanks to Danny for sitting in for the Reverend. He did a great job. I think it's really neat how complete strangers can mesh together through music. How corny did that sound? Way corny. But I don't care, it's true.

While we were singing I Got A Line On You, a guy at the bar decided to expel some sort of fluid from his mouth. It came out in a slow motion stream and I'm still not sure if it was spit or puke, but all I could think of while we were singing was "I got a line of puke" instead of the real words. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed and if anyone did, they either had a great poker face or they just didn't care.

We made some new friends. Erin, Maryellen and Cindy. They were very nice. Erin and Maryellen danced quite a bit, which was remarkable considering there was only about 3 feet of space between them and us (remember - small bar). Later that same day, Erin decided that she must go outside and climb up on the old bicycle that was bolted into the sidewalk in front as a sculpture type item. It's one of those monstrosities with the big old wheel in front that stands about 5 or 6 feet and the little one in back, has a teeny little seat. She made it up there. Have no idea how, but she did. And she made it back down with out falling and/or showing any of her parts (she was wearing a mini skirt). Maybe her confidence came from Maryellen being her spotter. I'm sure the liquid courage helped too.

Oh yeah, turns out that Anno and Lola are screamers.

And there ya have it.

7/15 - Knuckleheads

This was a big old biker bar complete with big old biker boys and underwear hanging from the ceiling. Mostly bras, with some underwear thrown in for good measure There was a pair of BIG old granny panties hanging above the ladie's room. That was a titch disturbing. They were HUGE. I'm talkin' the biggest pair of underwear you can imagine. They were also powder blue. Perhaps the color was to disguise the size. I don't know, but they were REALLY big.

Umm...what else. Oh yeah - there were bikers there. They didn't hang out in the section we were playing in, but they were there. It was most unpleasant having to play to an empty room.
Okay - almost empty. Terry and Chloe were there and there were a couple of other girls who stayed for the duration. That was pretty much it. Everyone else was in the other section.
Let's just say that if this bar were a percussion section, it would be WAY off beat.

I must say that they have a good wine there. It's called Hog Chardonay. Pretty sure it's made from grapes, not made from hogs.

7/14 - Driftwood

Geneva, right on the lake. How great is that? Well, it could have been great...

The big debate was whether to set up on the patio outside, or set up on the stage inside since it had been raining on and off most of the afternoon. We decided to not risk it and set up inside.

After every piece of equipment was moved from the van to the stage inside, it became quite clear that our decision was not the same decision as that of the owner who wanted us to play outside, because they were having an Island Party. At least everyone got leied (the necklace of flowers, you perv). Her decision was encouraged by Rattler (a.k.a. Rattlesnake, a.k.a. Terry) who looked up the radar on his fancy schmancy cell phone, which showed clear skies.

So, we re-moved everything outside to the patio and as soon as we were completely set up and ready to play it started to rain. DAMMIT! Rattler sensed his impending doom and fled the scene. Not really. Well, he did sense his impending doom, but he decided to try to redeem himself by helping to move everything back inside where we started.

Once everything was back inside where there was NO air conditioning and we dried off all the
equipment and untangled every cord and set everything back up AGAIN we were ready to play only an hour off schedule. Between getting rain soaked and then being hot from the lack-o-air conditioning we were all just one big sweaty mess. Yeah, it was nice.

Karen, our hostess for the evening, was very nice and she even sacrificed a piece of beige carpet for us when we thought we were playing outside and a very nice hand tied "no sew" blanket to cover the amp when the rain started.

Not quite sure if she just felt guilty or if she really liked us, but she invited us back in August.

And once again, we had our resident drunk. This guy requested the song "I'll kiss the lips in the morning that kissed my ass all night." Needless to say, we didn't play his request nor did we invite him up to sing it his own self.

Hopefully, in August when we go back it will be clear skies all the way and we'll be able to play outside with the lake as the backdrop. Stay tuned to find out. Or better yet, stop out there.
August 10th. Mark it down. Don't make me have to remind you. It's a miracle that I can get out the door in the morning fully clothed. Consider this your reminder. August 10th - be there.

7/13 - Zeleznik's

Friday, the 13th. We survived!

Zeleznik's was a pretty neat place given that it's in the heart of the steel mills (well, what used to be the steel mills). Peggy, the owner who also lives above the bar, had her garden in the back yard. There was some pretty impressive lettuce growing in that garden and all night I wanted a salad.

They had us set up outside in the back where there were picnic tables all around. Other than the bugs, it was nice to play outside. Peggy had OFF! available, so that made the bugs more bearable. In my pre-OFF! state I almost swatted a bug on my face, but realized at the last minute that the swatting hand was holding maracas. That little story has a happy ending -
no self induced maraca bash on the head for me and no bug bite either.

We had our resident entertainer again. His name is still in question - Bug, Bud, Bub, Paul.
He answered to all those names, so I guess his name might still be in question for him as well.
His song was Little Black Egg, so we muddled through it with Bug, Bud, Bub, Paul "singing" lead vocals. You remember Little Black Egg", right? Anyway, it was the last song we did and then it got stuck in all our heads. Now it's stuck in your head too? Your welcome.

7/7 - The Harland

It was a slow night at The Harland. Probably because everyone was out getting married, since getting married on 7/7/7 will ultimately bring good luck and a long happy life.

We had a good group, though. Ralph being their group leader. C-Man described Ralph as Keith Richard's dad. Just think about it. Now you know Ralph, too. We understood maybe 3 words of what he said all night. So, we just kept smiling and nodding and that seemed to be the appropriate response.

Claudette celebrated her 50th birthday. Actually, it was her birthday eve but we sang our Happy Birthday song to her anyway. We also tried to hook her up with Ralph, but that didn't pan out. One dance was the extent of their relationship. We think it was a mutual break-up.

When I met the very Irish Larry, he seemed quite sure that I must be Irish too. Not sure why. Perhaps because of the red hair. Oh guess what, I'm English. He was not pleased. In his world (Euclid, OH) the Irish still hate the English. Then I had to hear about how horrible the English are and how his family single handedly kept the English out of Ireland. Here's how they did it - They held up their hands (like a traffic cop signalling you to stop and being confident that you will indeed stop) and said "stay the fuck out of Ireland". Quite an accomplishment. I told him how impressed I was by this simple yet effective tactic and then asked him if he could just hate the English as a whole and not hold it against me as an individual. So, he bought me a beer. Guess he's not holding a grudge.

Speaking of buying someone a beer - we had our first post card redemption. Wow, that sounds quite religious and I suppose to some a free beer can be a religious experience. So, see what you're missing - free beer that is a religion all it's own brought to you by the fine folks at Project Mojo. This offer not valid with out 6 forms of proper ID, background check, and a waiting period of at least 3 months. Otherwise, keep those cards and letters coming!

7/6 - The Station, Berea
PROJECT MOJO'S 300th GIG!!!!! (observed)

Wow, 300 gigs. I only wish I could have been there from the start. What a great adventure!

Quite a few friends came out to celebrate with us and as it turned out, they all could have brought their dogs with them since we were on the deck which was VERY close to the train tracks and the bazillion trains that passed by. It might have been the same train going back and forth all night just to annoy us. Nah. Anyway, there was a nice sign posted that dogs were welcome on the deck. So, note to self - acquire a dog before the next Station gig.

Apparently, at a past gig during the week that I missed (what with it being a school night and all) someone thought that the tambourine would make a nice souvenir, which meant that I was tambourineless and at our 300th gig no less.

You may have noticed that we just did our 300th gig. Come on, that's a lot of gigs (300 of them to be exact). That's longer that most marriages last!

But we were talking about the tambourine, the very same tambourine that some one took, the very same tambourine that I percuss with.

Our friend, Pete decided to help us out and took Petie (his 4 year old son, who's in constant motion) with him to get a tambourine. Turns out that Pete's used to purchasing items for a 4 year old, because not just a tambourine was brought back, but a child's tambourine that was part of a complete percussion set ,which consisted of a 5" tambourine/bongo drum combo with a snazzy ribbon trim that fell off within the first 5 minutes of it being out of the box, a 4" triangle with the "gong" attached to it with a string so it looked like idiot mittens with one mitten being lost, and some jingle bells on a stick. Two of those came in the set, so that was a dream come true. Twice the jingling.

We forged ahead with our make shift percussion section. Pete, Judi and Rattlesnake (Terry) helped us out with each of them taking turns on the tambourine. Rattlesnake had dibs on the triangle, though. He was not sharing that. I had the jingle bells on a stick. Both of them.

Oh yeah, did I mention that the gig was at The Station? As in old train station? We were on the deck about 5 feet from real, fully functioning train tracks with real, fully functioning trains with really loud whistles? Yeah, we got a lot of trains during the gig. Except of course for when we were on a break. No trains. Not one. As soon as we stepped back up to start a new set, that was the engineer's cue to get the trains moving through again. And they did. Again and again.

It was a perfect night for being outside even with the fighting varmints that Mud turned the lights toward as we were packing up so they wouldn't move their fight any closer to us. We're not quite sure the exact nature of the varmint, but they did not sound friendly (I guess that's why we call it fighting).

That's pretty much it for gig 300.

Now it you'll excuse me I need to go shopping for a grown up tambourine.