Summer weather inspires procrastination, and other lame excuses.
Ken: Hey Brian, it’s already in triple digits out here. I really should retouch the paint on a few of my speakers, but I can’t seem to get motivated in this heat. I seem to be getting pretty good at procrastination. I think I could turn pro — Professional Procrastinator — I wonder if I could get paid for that… I already have the uniform. As a matter of fact, I am writing this article attired in said gray-tinged underwear. Anyhoo, any inspirational words to get me moving?
Brian: Oh, Ken… I’m not sure I needed to know that! Kind of like the whole e_commuting thing. People out there are doing their work from their home office dressed only in their bathrobe. Or worse yet, they are sitting in bed with a laptop perched gently on their bare legs…eeeeew! OK. Bad mental image. Maybe I can clear my mind if I address the root of your problem instead.
I know the heat doesn’t help. I just want to stay out on the deck spending some good quality time with the grill. For that matter, cruising around the Chesapeake Bay with some friends isn’t bad either. The problem is, it’s either too nice out to do maintenance on the gear in the summer, or it’s too cold to fool with it in the winter.
Ken: I am pretty good about most of it. We even wipe the big stuff down while unloading it after a long day at a sandlot party. And I am the king of cable wipers, especially after the beer, soda, energy drink or my favorite — Faygo-sponsored/endorsed/associated gigs. Gummy cables are a pet peeve, which I think is worse than the average spaghetti nightmare. Is there anything worse than wrapping a stage full of sticky cables? Yes — having the cables sticky when you arrive!
Brian: Oh, but Ken, of course there is something worse. Wrap up enough cable that spent the night in the little corner where the stage meets the dance pit and you’re bound to run into my favorite one of all — beer bottle shrapnel! All the little slivers from all of the beer bottles that broke that night and, well, every night for the past 12 years. The barmaids just sweep that trash into every dark little spot they can find, and where it won’t be seen; therefore, it doesn’t get picked up. Only problem is, it imbeds itself into my cables, leaving me to drag some drunk’s shard of filthy glass through the palm of my hand as I over-under. The good part is that I have learned to anticipate this, and I now know when to wear gloves. That just leaves the problem of some splinter hiding in the depths of my XLR drawer for two or three shows until….OOOUUCH !!!
Ken: Stop it! You are making me cringe! In Vegas, everything is plastic: glassware, beer bottles, personalities, boobs, etc., so we don’t worry about infections from mic cables. The boobs on the other hand, well…
Brian: I suppose there are some communities around here where the plastic body parts are as prevalent as they are in Vegas. Ironically, I’m not sure what has more of that — the yuppie communities where the trophy wives drive their kids to soccer practice in the Cayenne, or Baltimore’s infamous “Block,” where the dancers can write it off as a business expense. Either way, that might be why you don’t want to get any shop work done; you’re too busy staring at all the plastic out there.
Ken: Hey, it’s called lunchtime, for the body and the spirit! That’s a write-off. And you don’t complain about them working in their undies! Brian, you have inspired me to daydream about cruising around on the Chesapeake Bay with someone’s trophy wife or an exotic dancer. Anyway, I say “Never put off ‘till tomorrow what you can put off today,” but as the boss, with my ever-vigilant staff of me, myself and I, I guess the faster I get to it, the faster it gets done.
Brian: You’re bad, Ken. But the big question still stands. How do we force ourselves to get some work done? I find that I usually get around to completing those projects just in time for a show to go out. For quite some time now, I’ve wanted to put together some gear to make a single outboard rack capable of handling FOH and four monitor mixes. It’s not like I didn’t have the gear, I just couldn’t make myself decide how I wanted it laid out, and just get it done. Finally, I had to send just such a rack out on rental, so I was forced the other day to load it and wire it up. And now that project is done, I can move on to the next thing — rebuilding my monitor rack. Oh joy!
Ken: OK, OK. I will get those speaker cabs done, just as soon as I get back from lunch. Have you tried the buffet at Spearmint Rhino? I have to meet the editor of FOH. Honestly, it’s a business lunch! Don’t give me that look. I will be back in two, three hours tops and then right to work painting. No, really….
Brian: I’m not even going to ask what kind of establishment the Spearmint Rhino is. I probably don’t want to know! And I have the feeling that your accountant may feel the same way.
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