I recently helped out a friend of mine doing FOH and tour manager duties for two weeks on a U.S. promotional tour. This was a van and trailer tour, which I found refreshing and intimate for a change. We were scheduled at a state fair, and I was saddled with only one crew guy. We pulled up to a 60-foot by 40-foot stage with a decent roof that seemed to have some "water puddle" issues. I climbed up on the deck and was overseen by a gentlemen sitting in monitor world; let's call him Chester. I introduced myself as Tommy with the band Hedley, and asked if there were stagehands. Chester said something akin to, "Don't know, don't care and unless I have heard of you, I really can't be bothered." Now, you have to understand, I have no idea when I went from the youngest guy on the bus to the oldest guy on the coach, but I haven't lifted a piece of gear since the Offspring tour in 1996. Still, I would like to believe that I am still a team player. So after I arranged for a forklift, my one crew guy dumped the trailer and fed the forklift while I staged all the gear that hit the deck. Bumming, but positive, I staged everything, then began to wire my split.
My buddy Chester came by and said that he would patch everything. This was more self-serving than altruistic, since his "one-toone" patch was actually a festival patch — which would have made sense if we weren't the only act that night. Sweaty, tired and frustrated I went to introduce myself to the FOH baby-sitter du jour, and then grab an ice cream cone.
Upon my return, I asked my system tech to patch the lone FDS-960 across L&R or Matrix 1&2, as I was less than thrilled with the Varicurve as my main EQ. Simultaneously, Chester listened to his favorite song. I was over it at this point and killed L&R. Chester got pissed and told FOH that I could not have my FDS-960 patched across Matrix 1&2. That was it.
Embarrassingly, I went off and pulled the "DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I THINK I AM" card. I turned to Chester and said, "Dude, what is your problem? I own a sound company, and I have no intention of hurting your rig."
He scoffed, so I told him "Look, I'm Tommy Rat, and I expect to be treated with a semblance of decency."
"You're not Tommy Rat," he says. I pulled off my shirt and asked, "Why the hell would I have a friggin' Rat tattooed on my arm? Do I need to show you my business card?"
He responded with "Do you know who Kevin is?"
I, of course, said "Uh, no!" He said that Kevin was in charge of the Pearl Jam rig. Now I'm pissed.
I look at this mook and say, "Dude, I have 40 employees that I have not met, but I can assure you that Kevin is not my crew chief unless he is posing as Tommy LBC."
I threw my business card at him while screaming "What the f*@# is your problem?"
He paused for a few moments, and then, to my surprise, apologized and proceeded to ask me questions and talk shop like he was an old buddy. He actually had the audacity to give me his business card, while chiming, "If you ever need me, call."
Now, here's the deal. I am not a fan of resting on one's laurels. With that mindset, you just get fat laurels. What I do expect is to be treated like a civil human being and to be judged on the merits of the day. The moral of this story is pretty simple. Be nice, be helpful and leave your attitude at home.
