(also written in the van a few days ago)

We had just finished our set. Nancy and I went downstairs to the band room to grab some beer. It was Calgary, our zombie set. I had napped right up until near the end of Women's set. I didn't have very much beer that night, and trust me, it's certainly the first thing on my mind after packing up and getting out from under those hot stage lights.

Some woman was standing in front of the tray of beer, with one in her hand. It was not her first, since she was clearly not sober.

Nancy grabbed a beer.

"Are you sharing?"
"What?"
"Are you sharing?"
Nancy and I just looked at each other. There weren't many left, but I wasn't planning on sharing with anyone. Nancy just said "ah, yeah, sorta" (since she was getting it for her nephew) and I grabbed one for myself.

"With the band band. Are you sharing with the band?"
"Uh, we're IN the band."
"NO, I don't think so. Not in my son's band."

That really threw me off. I had still only had a few hours of sleep since I got up Sunday morning, and all that sleep was on the plane and on a bench in the bar. She didn't look like an Eric's Trip mother, but who else has the right to care about the rider? I mean, it's their show, right? So I replied "No, in the band that just opened for him." Of course, the truth is I was in the band HE opened for.

She didn't seem to like that answer. She wanted to catch us in a lie. Tiny girls stealing beer from the band. Whatever. I think she may have started to say something, but I just twisted the cap off my beer and turned to go back upstairs. I had to walk away because it would be too easy to cause a scene and I didn't know who's mother she was. One of my favourite bands was about to start and I wasn't going to miss it talking to some lady.

People, there's nothing wrong with having your mom in the band room, unless she's going to act like that.