Date: Sunday, October 15
Place: The Melody Inn, Indianapolis, Indiana
Can I overstate the joy of waking up on the road in a quiet, sunlit bedroom, by yourself, and walking downstairs only to be greeted by a table full of cereal, fruit and coffee?
No, I can't.
The Lyons' house was empty on Sunday morning, as I perused the paper and had some breakfast, reveling in the glow of a good night's sleep.
Soon after, I set off on a five mile jog through the Lyons' neighborhood and out onto the country highway. The weather was crisp and perfect for jogging. And since I ran the thirteen mile half-marathon at the beginning of October, five mile jogs have seemed easy and pleasant.
When I got back, I was greeted by Aoife, Aoife's mom, and Barret, who had all been at church(!).
I was told we'd be having lunch at about noon, so I cleaned up and took on Jeff in a game of pool in the basement.
Actual exchange:
(Joe hits a tight shot)
Jeff: You must have been good at geometry...
(Joe hits a perfect safety, screening Jeff from any sort of shot)
Jeff: And an asshole.
After lunch, we got all of our things in order (so we had them) and, with sad goodbyes to our gracious hosts and beautiful accommodations, headed out to Indianapolis.
We had one stop to make before hitting the road. As it turned out, Barret's $15 wager on the ninth horse in the ninth race the previous day had won! So, we were obliged to hit the drive-thru wagering booth (natch) at Keeneland to pick up his winnings, which totaled somewhere near $100.
How about that... the power of nine strikes again.
The drive to Indianapolis was about 3 hours and to kill time before our load in, we headed downtown and had some food while watching football.
We arrived at the venue at about 7:00 and loaded in and right onto the stage. The Melody Inn is a small but very cool little rock club on the north side of the city. The owner, Dave, is an incredibly nice guy who also serves at the lone bartender and the soundman.
He bought the club with the idea of turning it into a place that small touring bands could stop and play, and the vibe speaks to care, sincere investment, and a love of all things independent music.
Also, there's a PBR Lounge in the back with all sorts of PBR memorabilia.
We had a brief soundcheck and I wandered off to find some tea for my aching throat.
At about 9:00, we took the stage. There were some people there to see us, and we started with a slow building rendition of Bottle Boy. In general, we started most of our sets on the tour off with quieter tunes, in an attempt to pace ourselves and to get an idea of the sound before we started into our louder more frantic material.
Bottle Boy was strong, and again, I was able to clear the cobwebs from my voice almost immediately.
We continued on through what I thought was our strongest, most varied set of the tour.
After the set, we loaded up the van and returned to the venue to catch the two bands after us. They were both quite good, and we finished the night hanging out with our new friends in the PBR lounge.
On our way out, Dave took us aside and said that we always had a place to play at The Melody Inn, and all we needed to do was let him know when we were coming through again.
We drove for about half an hour, and found a cheap hotel. Barret had decided his winnings would be spent on getting a second hotel room, and he negotiated a pretty good rate for two rooms with a late checkout so we could sleep in.
Exhausted, I closed my eyes and was almost immediately asleep as we reached the halfway point of a successful tour.
jbg
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