So yesterday was kind of a crazy day...we had to get up at 5 a.m. to get Sean to a ski race (we got him to the bus and then drove three hours in the car to watch). He did pretty well, though how well we don't really know, because there was a problem with the timing system that will take a couple of days to unravel. (I clocked him at 15:54, which is a significant improvement, but that's unofficial.) So we came back afterwards with one of his friends in the car and had a pretty good diner lunch on the way back, but were all obviously exhausted by 4 when we got back.
Except that I had told a publicist that I would go see Brown Bird in Keene that night (before knowing that I'd be getting up at 5 and driving 300 miles the same day), so around 7:30 I got in the car again and went to the show. The show was at the Starving Artist in Keene, which is a pretty small venue and apparently they have to finish shows at 10 p.m. or violate noise rules. So anyway, I get there just before 8 p.m. when the thing is supposed to start and there's a line all down the block, and we all stand around in the cold for half an hour until they start letting people in. There is no guest line and it's overbooked, although the woman at the door is telling the people ahead of me to wait and they might get in, though they'll have to pay $25 a ticket. (Which seems a little steep for, ahem, Brown Bird and O'Death...and also the poster very clearly says $10 advance, $15 day of show.) So I get to the front and of course there's no guest list, and if I could just go stand out in the cold for another hour maybe they will try to get me in. By this point it is almost 9 p.m. and not a note of music has been played, so I say fuck it, fuck Brown Bird, fuck O'Death and fuck Forcefield PR, and go home.