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We haven't been back to Bloomington for several years - every since our drunken and rolling host pulled down his pants and tried to pee on us in our sleep in the middle of the night. The shows we played there before it were great, but there are only so many days in a tour, and that was just the kind of experience that makes you cross a town off a list when it comes down to it.

We're playing the Cinemat this year, a show space attached to a video rental shop. They feed us when we show up, which is a good sign, but they have some bad news. It seems a comedy club has moved in upstairs from the venue and things aren't quite totally soundproofed yet. This means that the first two bands downstairs will have to go on just after the comedian's first set upstairs. Then the show will have an hour-and-a-half intermission while the comedian upstairs does his late set. Then the last two bands will go on.

This is a truly idiotic arrangement.

The show is absolutely packed, but when the promoters spring the surprise intermission on the audience, only about two thirds of them return. One kid actually falls asleep sitting in a chair. The White Mice punish anyone who returns, and then we play a set where Eddie winds up flat on his back. We make a friend and head back to his house, hoping not to get peed on again.

When we arrive at the house, we are greeted by a dreadlocked young man standing tall amongst passed-out partiers. His name is Nick, but he demands we call him "The Honey Falcon." Honey Falcon likes two things: partying and talking incredibly loud. Actually, he does everything loud. Honey Falcon is a kind and gracious host, sharing all of his beer and mouthing off until the wee hours of the morning about how he's going to cook us a massive breakfast in the morning featuring something called "Spaghetti Sushi." These are the kind of characters I like meeting on the road.

Also, he doesn't try to piss on us.

About the Author

Phillip Price is the keyboard player for Wilkes-Barre-based band An Albatross.

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