More Biscuits n Stuff

The post about my breakfast reminded me of a few critical events that shaped my late-adolescence...

A few friends and I worked for a couple years at Hardees in Provo, UT. There are so many stories I wish I could tell, but time has clouded my memory, and the statute of limitations (as well as a basic sense of decency) prohibits me from relating all of the events that took place.

I never again in my life want to smell, touch, taste or even imagine the monstrosity known as the Hardee's Cinnamon 'N' Raisin Biscuit.


Nasty!

We used to spend tremendous amounts of time there at night, I'm pretty sure I saw the sun come up there more than half the days of 1989- either because I was working or because I was camped out in the booth near the window staying up all night.... or both.



We used to make all sorts of custom food- partially to keep ourselves entertained, and partly to stay nourished.

Biscuit Deluxe: Hardees flagship burger was the Big Deluxe: Bun, Mayo, Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Burger, Cheese, Bun. We took it to the extreme by making the sandwiches on biscuits at 4am.
Pizza Biscuit: They liked to mess with the menu at Hardees- one day they decided that they would add the 'Pizza Burger'- a burger with marinara sauce and some kind of white cheese. We made biscuits out of the same- although they were really nasty with the breakfast sausage patties. Really good with either the 10:1 patties or no meat. The cheese was good if you tripled it. Estimated calories per sandwich: 600. Also good biscuits and gravy style.
Death Biscuit: We called the plain kiddie hamburger the Death Burger. When it was transferred to the secret breakfast menu, it became the Death Biscuit. (Also of course the Cheesy Death Biscuit) If you've never had catsup, pickles and mustard for breakfast, you are missing out.
Big Mac Biscuit: (don't ask)
Chicken Cordon Biscuit: a Hot Ham and Cheese portion with a Breakfast Chicken and some additional 'Swiss' cheese.
Shroom and Swiss Biscuit: Mushroom sauce, 'Swiss', Sausage, Biscuit. Heaven on earth. Hell on the digestive system.

Then there was the time that we converted an entire case of lollipops (the candy for the kiddie meals) into Death Lollies.

Strangely enough, that was the name of a fantastic local electro-punk band of that era.

One of my blood brothers was fond of referring to paper napkins as 'Masculine Napkins' - a play on some kind of feminine hygiene product... Anyway. Once we went through stacks of napkins and drew the Mars symbol


(also the symbol for masculinity and the male gender) on approx every 8th napkin. Sometimes we would draw the Death Mars.

The napkins were then placed in the dispensers. It was an awesome study of human behavior. Occasionally you'd even get a smart customer who would get the joke...

A friend (same guy) and I had a little game we liked to play called 'Running from the Cops'- the objective was to... well.... run from the cops. We didn't break the law. I swear. All you had to do, when stumbling upon law enforcement at 2am, was to look shady or suspicious until the officer saw you, then run like hell in the direction that they had the least chance of catching you.
(Summer 1989 was the year that University Avenue was torn up for reconstruction, so it was actually easy to get away... they had to drive literally miles to get to the other side)
If the cop or copette ever cornered you, they would ask 'Why are you running?' and the answer was 'Because I need exercise' or 'Because I want to' or 'Walking is too slow' or some such smartypants answer. It was pretty much an attempt to get us into a place where we could ask the cop to show us why it was illegal for a person over the age of 18 to go jogging anytime they wanted to. It's quite gratifying to ask a member of law enforcement 'You got a problem with that?'
Anyway- the inevitable destination after a hearty round of Running from the Cops was... wait for it.... Hardees.
One night we bailed from the law, managed to ditch him and made to home base- we celebrated our triumph with a twist cone and a gigantic cup of carbonated beverage. As I was making my self a twist cone deluxe, an order came through the drive through speaker- one twist cone. so I whipped it up, walked it over to the window and holy &^*@!! there was Officer Not-So-Friendly, looking me right in the face. I nearly pooped a brick.
He didn't recognize me. But I slept with my back to the wall for days....

Things Change

But somehow stay the same...


22 years later, still sitting enjoying a delicious breakfast biscuit and some hash rounds.

Of course, back in the day, it would have been Sausage. Then for a while I preferred Ham. Now I eat egg/cheese.
But the principle is the same, no?

Fun Fun Fun

7/3/2010

Showtime approaches
Final preparations.
Things are cleaned up.
We are cleaned up.
The guests arrive.
Dinner is served.
Drinks are served.
We see band members at the crew/band feeding station.
Brian makes an appearance for a photo op. He's a completely different person: smiling, laughing, joking. I assume he has had a nap, a massage, some vocal warmups, maybe some dinner. It's nice to see that he won't be so surly in front of the guests.
Back to places, and we wait.

The CEO of the high-end real-estate development gives a rah-rah speech. As he is talking, we see a couple of Suburbuns racing up the hill towardbackstage.
I guess he's going to play.
CEO: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Brian Wilson and his band" and they appear onstage.



For optimal dramatic effect, I'd like to say that I bawled like a baby through the 26 song set, struggling to see the stage through my tears of joy.
But that wouldn't be true. I'm a professional you know, so I can turn it off in the line of duty. Other than a couple songs, when I misted up and sniffled a bit.


The band played for some time, very well in fact.






Wow what a show. Things progressed without incident until Brian decided to fall down, flat on his
face, right before the encore. He seemed unhurt. And for a guy that already has a few bruises, what's the harm in a couple more?










Fireworks. Boom, Bang, Blam.
Clean up the mess and go home.



So here's the summary:
I got a chance to be the lighting designer (director) for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member Brian Wilson and the show started so early that the lights were mostly invisible until the last 3 songs.

The End.

Fun Fun

7/2/2010 - 7/3/2010

We drive down the canyon and attend a couple of social events. I need to blow off some steam as I prep for work tomorrow. For some reason I'm more apprehensive than usual.
In the morning, I begin the day.
Time to get 'In the Zone' and prep for the day.

I grab some food and sit down to chill. Listening to Brian Wilson and Beach Boys songs all morning as I wander around town.


Stomach tightening and nerves winding up.

We drive back to the venue to finish up the setup.


The band's crew arrives and brings with them the word that I'll be the lighting director for the show this evening. Calling the job a 'designer' would be overly generous, as the setup is very simple with only a handful of options.


Nevertheless, it's a good thing that I'm 'In the Zone'
Soundcheck time approaches. The band has landed. Word comes that Mr. Wilson may not show up for soundcheck.
Cool. Whatever.
I sit back in my chair to wait and suddenly he arrives. Alone. Before the band. Takes a seat onstage and begins noodling around with his piano.


The band sets up, tinkering around and tuning. Brian looks bored and unhappy. The band plays the beginning of "California Girls." This is cool. I'm excited but Brian doesn't sing. Maybe he's waiting? Lost? Crap. Is he going to freak out and leave?


Halfway through the second verse he does it. There it is. The voice. It has aged. He has aged. Needs warming up.
Like the crying clown, the ultimate tortured artist, he's here singing us songs of surf and cars and pretty girls. Giving a bit of himself to make everyone else feel better.
Speaking of the sad jester, I'm a mess. Sobbing uncontrollably, I have to go sit down. Somehow this is touching me deeply. I have no idea why, no idea how. I have no excuse or deflection.


Perhaps it is the idea that I get to be so close to a story that has always seemed so big and so far out of reach. 3 or 4 songs later, soundcheck ends.
We see Brian turn and walk away.
Quite quickly.


He seems distant, tired perhaps. A bit non-communicat1ve and a little grumpy.
He's done.

Fun

5/6/2010 - 7/2/2010

I'm not the biggest fan of the Beach Boys, but I certainly do respect their history and the dramatic elements of their history. I am particularly drawn to the Brian Wilson part of the story.
This is a guy who is a certifiable genius, whose drive to produce his music was so strong that it destroyed his psyche. His natural abilities surpass those of virtually all his contemporaries- a person who entered the world in a dysfunctional, abusive world- he had no choice but to purge the voices, the songs, the words and the emotions from his soul- it's the only chance he had. In this, he was able to create a couple of the best albums ever made: Most notably Pet Sounds, but also an album called SMiLE- unfinished and unreleased for over 37 years.

The personal cost of making SMiLE, as well as the perceived competition with The Beatles to make better, more groundbreaking music, it caused Brian a lot of stress.
Unfortunately, he was far too trusting of people who were looking to profit and gain from his talents. From his father to his drug dealers to his therapist, these people sucked the life out of him. The pressure of creating music- providing a living for dozens of people- this nearly killed him.

While he did survive, it was in a bruised condition. Life has been hard on Mr. Wilson, and he is very delicate.
For these reasons and more, I figured I'd never see Brian perform live. I've seen the other Beach Boys perform a number of times... They do a good job and are plenty talented on their own, but as far as I can tell, the talent of Brian Wilson gives a good group the material and momentum to be a great group. His legacy is the reason we even talk about them these days.

In May, my good friend John Cole called me and asked if I'd be willing to do lighting and staging systems for a Brian Wilson concert in Park City, UT.
Well, that nearly dropped me to the floor- "Of Course" I said. I think I even offered to do it for free.
You see, I have checklists. Brian Wilson has a special place on the 'Never Gonna Happen' list. And to fill in a line on the 'I did this at work today' list. Wow. What an honor.

One thing- John said that due to Mr. Wilson's health (mental and physical) issues, there's always a chance that he wouldn't perform. Sometimes he panics and can't leave the house, sometimes he can't get on a plane. Sometimes he won't leave his hotel room, and sometimes he won't walk onto the stage.
Getting closer to the event, I start becoming nervous. Really? Yes. Schoolgirl, Prom Night, total goobery nervous.
A couple days before the show, we start loading up, I am expecting a cancellation at anytime.
Truck loaded- Leaving now.


The equipment setup is almost identical to the setup last year, when we provided the same elements for The Temptations.
We setup the stuff, get it all working and pack up for the day. We can finish the rest tomorrow.

I haven't heard anything from the band regarding a lighting designer...

Mess

I spent a very long day recently working a concert.
There will be a pretty extensive post forthcoming on this, but for now this will have to suffice:

I spent half of the day sobbing and sniffling as I worked a show. Not just any show, but a private, small show for one of the legends of rock and roll.

Nobody knew if this gentleman was going to show up for soundcheck. But he did. First. And he stayed until the end.

I was reduced to a puddle from the first instant the band kicked into 'California Girls' it is a bit embarrassing to admit, but this hit me harder than anything has in a very very long time