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Draplin Design Co., North America


Drove down to Bend on Saturday afternoon. Gary, Fred, Lovejoy and I. Got down there in record time, stopping only briefly so Lovejoy could session the new Madras skatepark. Went right to Matt and PamPam’s Redmond refuge to see little Emma.

We’re proud to report that at one whole month of breathing air in and out of those little lungs, she is doing just fine.

01. “Fred, meet Emma. Emma, meet Fred.”
02. “The tinest little fingers you ever saw.”
03. “Love ran security during our brief visit. No trouble took place.”
04. “Little, tiny feet.”
05. “Matt Leonard, Family Man.”

Dropped Gary off at Fink’s compound. Sherman and Gato were fucking with him real good. It was hard to leave the little man behind.

Went and saw Yamada for a little bit, to “get primed up before the show.” Drank some beers and took some shots of JIm Beam in order to get good and pickled for all the madness. (Now hold on a sec, before any of you start passing judgement, I’ve never been one to “party down in the parking lot before a show” or anything, and have seen the likes of the Butthole Surfers and the Jesus Lizard and well, those Flaming Lips a number of times sober as a nun. This time around, I thought I’d mix shit up a bit and howl at the moon.

06. “Travis Yamada, October 9th, 1973.”

Made out way in to the show smoothly. We smuggled in a bounty of contraband: Ass pockets of rotgut whiskey and digital cameras. “Renegades,” I know. We missed Deerhoof’s short set, and walked up to the deal just as Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks were getting going. I love Malkmus, but, maybe not in the afternoon in some giant setting. I like him on my headphones, or, on the stereo, where you can hearing the noodly riffage and weird shit good and clear. Anyway, it was cool to see it. Fine form.

The Lips came out just as the sun was setting. The venue has this “show is over by 10pm” thing due to some neighborhood noise ordinance in Bend. So, the band was challenging ma nature a bit, trying to get the place dark so the movie screen set up behind them could be seen properly. It’s a big part of their show.

Well, they rocked. As always, it was colorful and fun and loud and wonderful. Cheap thrills in the form of confetti and streamers and smoke and dancing aliens and dancing santas and colorful amps and shit. Lots of lots of what they’ve been doing for some tme now, but, still fun as fuck.

Young and drunk and alive and happy, dancing along to those Flaming Lips. Pretty good.

07. “Crowd jitters.”
08. “Two scientists were racing…”
09. “Bohemian Rhapsody…”
10. “Free Radicals…”
11. “Maybe there isn’t a vein of stars callin’ out my name…”

Okay, so the show ends with a chaotic cover of “War Pigs” with Bush and Rumfeld’s ugly mugs flickering on the big screen behind them. People clap a bunch, the band says thanks, and the lights go up and that’s it. People start leaving, heading out to the entrances. I notice the lone security guard, letting folks backstage and just sort of blend in with a group of kids flashing their passes. He asks for mine, and as confindently and assertive as possible, I look real busy and just say, “Excuse, I’m with the band.” and he says, “Oh, okay.” looking kinda puzzled and lets me in.

Sometimes you just gotta go for it.

And that was that. Ha. I wander around a bit, checking out the gear and the backstage area a bit. I meet a Michael Ivins and we chat about a bunch of shit, mainly me thanking him for well, lots of shit. Kinda tipsy, mind you, but together for the most part.

12. “Up on stage. Ha.”

So I’m up on stage, just kinda laughing at the whole thing while roadies are scurrying about picking everything up. I notice Wayne collecting some of his toys and approach him. I get his attention and he drops what he’s doing and I proceed to thank him for just about everything from the tunes to the creativity to his driving by his house In Oklahoma and hell, a ton of other shit. He was great. He thanked me and shook my hand and gave me a big hug.

Pretty fucking cool.

13. “Life is good.”

We rounded the night out with a brisk walk back to Yamada’s, a quick visit to see Cory Grove and then hightailed it out to Fink’s for a BBQ goods. Ate a bunch, in order to soak up the venom inside me. We shot the shit some and then cruised out to Redmond back to Matt and Pam’s. Crashed hard, with much water in me, and Gary by my side.

14. “Fink.”

A good goddamn night.

There Are 8 Comments


Posted by: momma d. on 05/30/06 at 6:59 AM

Looks like you had a fuckin’ great time! Jealous a bit I am.

Posted by: Justin Kropp on 05/30/06 at 7:20 AM

You son of a bitch! Good work, amazing. Finally. For someone who loves these guys this much, this meeting is overdue and much deserved. Great story and photos.

Posted by: PJ Chmiel on 05/30/06 at 7:36 AM

nice work man, must have been a bit surreal…

Posted by: styk on 05/30/06 at 8:33 AM

the Lips came through—I being older and jaded, and drunk on beam with my jewish tongue ragged on on pumpkin seeds and ready to hate the coolness of these huge indie rock moments—I was blown almost as much as when linda cornered me in summer camp in bunk B and would not say no…but that is another story…crocked on beam and northfacewarm I was able to hate snide malkamus for his inability to be there and rock—dude, either rock or don’t but wasting my precious oregon sun is hateful! The lips took care of me and the crowd—they talked and played and kept us motivated and warm—all the colors and the sounds and wayne so happy to do what he does…someone said” forthoseabouttorock” I salute you wayne. Jim Beam does too.

Posted by: Fred (gate) on 05/30/06 at 1:13 PM

That is some game you got man…getting backstage at the Lips is pretty sweet…I’m gonna have to read the DDC memoirs…tales of taking chances, creative outlets, and reaching for greatness. Man it will be a great read.

Posted by: Mark on 05/30/06 at 2:09 PM

“i’m with the band”…

you kill me.

Posted by: dano on 05/30/06 at 10:52 PM

not even a word about me. thanks for hanging out guess i wasen’t there.

Posted by: porterfield on 06/17/06 at 12:48 PM
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