On Saturday the 21st of August, we played at a gig that was labeled, "Bud Pharm". It was in the High Desert, (get it.... High Desert) and I thought it was a 5-acre Marijuana Farm with licensed growers, vendors, and patients, all stoned and ready to listen to some egotistical psychadelic music and reminisce about the good ol' days when they used to lick acid off of Jimi Hendrix's shaft. But, it was only a get-together at a fuckin Ranch in the middle of nowhere that druggies could go to if they wanted to get super baked and reminisce about the good ol' days when they used to lick acid off of Jimi Hendrix's roadie's shaft. It was kind of a bummer, but the stage was pretty big and one of the little stoners said that he drove around the desert picking up old telephone poles to help build the stage. As gone as these people were, that was the best stage we've ever played on. By far.
Turns out I wasn't the only person to misinterpret an email; these guys thought we were a Bob Marley cover band. That's the only reason they booked our asses! The whole time they were telling us a really good Bob Marley cover band was going to play. We played one cover to stimulate their Bob Marley blue-balls, but we threw some musicianship into the mix and everybody went back to doing heroin. We'll probably never play that gig again unless they book some real bands or start paying.
Our friend Gamaliel helped out as a roadie that day and kept us company while all the rednecks stared at his black ass like he just stole their bike. There was one other black guy there, and boy was he dark. He was a pretty cool dude, and liked our music. He had a two-man band also, and they did the damn thing. The girls there were disgusting as all hell and reminded me of all the times I threw up.
Vibra Optic '73, bitches.
these were the guys.