Touchdown at O’Hare on a crisp Fall afternoon, and it’s straight to The Berghoff for us—I told ya we were tourists, dammnit!
Kimm has been the week in Montreal on business, got in a day early and meets up barside looking refreshed and sparkly.
The rest of us, however, have spent another hellish day in the stratosphere, enduring the usual indignities of modern air travel.
Say, here’s fun: if you ever happen to be on my same flight, and lucky enough to have the seat directly in front of me, then by all means! — feel free to lean that fucker all the way back and pulverize whatever remains of Patella and Articular Cartllage!
Trust me, I don’t even feel it any more…..
Ah, but after a few pints and some sincere insults from the surly bartenders, we’re all feeling top notch once again.
Bring on the Autumnal dishes and let’s get this night going!
Wandering the back stairways of the club, we find a record store, small cabaret and a true rock club within the same bunker.
The night is already scrolling by too quickly, our West Coast biological clocks telling us we should still be in Happy Hour cocktail mode.
But it is a mere hour from downbeat, and the DE boys take to the stage in fine form.
Brooks has gone all out and brought out his gleaming new Orange stack.
Kimm and I spy it from stage right and both run for it, calling dibs!
Kimm wins out when I take my eyes off the amp for a moment, fascinated by an actual sewer grate stage center!
We plug ’em in and do that thing, and it is Saturday night in America, all over again……
Do yer self a favor a check out Punkvinyl!!
Was the club packed? Was the crowd insane?
Depends. Do you want the truth, or do ya want the Internet Truth, hmmmm?
Hell no, continuing our recent and quite charming habit of drawing quite meager crowds, there’s maybe 60 people in the whole joint.
And half of them are musicians in the other bands!!
The people that do show, though, are always the best.
And the highlight of the evening is the hangout afterwards with the crazy cats in this wacky town…..
We reluctantly say our goodbyes, not nearly enough time to hang out in this city.
We head up State towards the swanky Travelodge, but not before stopping into the South Loop Club for some late night chow, because that’s how we roll!
We chat away whatever remains of this long ass day into night.
I look down the bar and see the rhythm section is getting cranky, our usual signal to call it a night:
And so Kimm and I carry the sleeping kids up to the room in our arms, lay them to bed and take off their shoes.
And we stand there in the doorway for a moment, just a perfect golden moment, and marvel once again at how fast they grow!