Having a boss who is a bona-fide rock star, definitely has its ups and downs. Especially if said rock star is an only child who never had to share his toys with anyone and is rarely ever in a "normal" state of mind. One day he loved us, and the day after that he was ready to drop us from the label like a hot potato. We never knew what to expect one day to the next. There were literally days when we would get calls on the road from him, and he would be telling us how proud he was of us and that if we keep going the way we were going we would be huge. Then the next day would come and we would get a call from the label manager and she would be freaking out and telling us that he wanted to dissolve the label, we were costing him too much money and that basically we sucked as human beings. It was textbook bipolar disorder.
One constant with us on the road was the fact that our equipment was constantly breaking down. Add on top of that we were broke and no musical instrument companies want to give you free things until you are rich and can actually afford them at that point. We were only given $15 a day per diem so whenever we stopped into a music shop every few days to get things fixed or stock up on necessities (strings, sticks, drumheads, etc.) we had to call the label and literally beg them to put some money into our account to get the things we needed to actually play music.
Mickey, our bass player, had a rig that was literally held together with duct tape and hope. His bass finally crapped out and our boss gave him one of his many, many bass guitars to use. He had so many bass guitars in his house he had them lining the walls on more than one room in his palatial home. After about 3 or 4 days he kept bugging Mickey about when he was going to get his bass back. Mickey's shoes were quite literally held together by wrapping duct tape around them to hold them together. He couldn't even afford a new pair of shoes. Our boss who owned probably around 50 bass guitars, most of them given to him and he had never even played, was on Mickey's case nearly every day wanting his bass back. To start the whole thing off Mickey had to borrow one of his many bass amps to go on the road with because his was falling apart and didn't work half the time. Mickey thought he would never hear the end of that, but when he had to borrow the bass he was really in for it. If it were me I would have taken the bass to his house and threw it through the glass in the front door with a note attached, "Here is the bass you have never even played before you rich jerk!"
I realize that this entry into my blog was a bit of a downer, but I am just trying to paint a very large picture. Not all of them are going to be heartwarming tales of achieving a childhood dream. Some of those childhood dreams turn out to be nightmares when they come true. So be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
To be continued...