Just a hair past noon on Friday July 6 and I'm trying to get as much work done as possible before my holiday begins.  The phone rings and it is Pete.  He is sounding as busy as fuck at this point, "Hey Nicky, I got a little project for ya.  I need you to go and get a CAA membership"  My immediate thoughts are the 4 of us sitting on the shoulder of a highway in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere in 34 degree celsius heat waiting for a tow truck.  I quickly shake out my negative thoughts and tell Pete to consider it done.  I decide to get the Plus membership because, well my little vision felt all too real.  5 o'clock rolls around and all my stuff is packed and ready to go.  My mom is reminding me in the maternal way that only she can, to make sure we don't drink and drive/ do drugs and drive/ pick up hitch-hikers/ and make sure I take my insulin when I'm supposed to... Ding Dong - thank god, it's Pete just in time to stop mom before a breakdown.  I'm curious as to Darren's whereabouts and Pete informs me that he is waiting for us in Ingersoll.  I load my stuff in and we are ready to go.  As we are pulling out of the driveway I suddenly notice that the back door of the van is wide open!  My thoughts consume me.  I can just picture all of the equipment falling out on to the road and having some SUV running it over, next Pete strangles me and starts beating on the driver of the SUV and... shake it off Nick!  I let Pete know about the door so we take care of it quickly and we are off to Ingersoll.  No worries I think to myself, tonight will be smooth. 
   We hit Darren's parents at 6:00 and figure we should make good time.  He has 2 video cameras with him and Pete's makes 3.  I'm thinking that everything that goes down will be on video... so what is my best camera angle?  We stop to get Randy and he is just finishing off a brew and ready to go.  We are doing fine for time and just need a quick stop at Pete's and then we should be Toronto bound. Pete runs into his place to get some things done as we load up the van.  I notice, or fail to notice the floor board for my amp.
   "Pete says to send the greek boy in for some food"  Darren yells as he walks towards Randy and I at the van.  I head to the house and ask Pete if he remembers packing the floorboard as I didn't see it in the van.  "Uhh... you'd better ask Darren since he made the last check".  Well Darren calls his place and sure enough we left it in London.  His roomate - The Wopafarrian - didn't have enough gas to drive it out to us, so it was 40 minutes back to London.
  We dropped Randy and Darren off at Zellers to grab some video tapes and Pete and I headed for the floorboard. I ran down the stairs at Darren's place and see the item in question lying right in the middle of the empty floor. His roomate Jim is crashed out on the couch. As if it were in slow motion, his eyes open just slightly, he manages a quarter smile and very slowly and methodically raises his hand in the Heavy Metal salute. I paused for a moment and was truly amazed at this guy's ability to be completely unaffected by any external environmental factors whatsoever. Oh well, now we've got to fucking fly! 
We're back on the 401 and about 2 hours from Toronto when Darren pipes up, "Hey Pete, did you put up the spare tire?" 
"FUCK! We're going back to my place," Pete responded and I am quite sure that is all that he said for the next half hour until we got there. He seemed calm but I could feel the inferno building up inside. With the spare tire freshly attached we are back on the highway doing about 110 to 140 km/hr depending on OPP sightings. Darren was sitting on the very corner of the back seat just staring out of the window at the quickly retreating daytime.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Chlorophyl... it makes everything so damn green," he responds. HUH?!! I had only known Darren for about a year and a half and really did not know him that well at all. I wasn't really sure what made this guy tick and the chlorophyl statement was not helping my cause. Grayline is the first real band that he has played in. He had jammed with other people in the past but this was his first real taste of a band. At his first few shows he was really nervous and looked like a tree that was planted on the stage, but he has really loosened up since. He is a good bass player who listens to punk rock and the Greatful Dead. Go figure that one out.
The one thing this guy hates most is recording. It could be from Adolf (Pete) cracking down on him -and me for that matter- when we just aren't playing right. In the end it makes us play better and sound way tighter as a band, but let's just say that Pete is not the most delicate guy with his words at times. In the future I eventually see Darren sporting a big black "Ricky" with a huge Ampeg rig when he graces the Grayline stage of destruction.
As a result of our previous delays, quick phone call is made to let the bar know we "ran into some traffic", and we are flying down the highway. We did finally arrive onto Spadina with the delay of one wrong turn and witnessing an accident scene. Tonight we were playing at Planet Kensington, in the heart of the market. The Kensington Market is not only plagued with huge amounts of garbage and the smell of dead fish on the streets, but also a lot of one way streets. We get there at 10:30 right on the money. It felt a bit like we were in Bangkok but with hardcore punks drinking on a tiny patio. As we walked into Planet Kensington I figured this was the smallest planet in the milky way. I had a hunch that this was going to be an interesting show.
We were playing with a band from Oshawa called Mr. Machete. Their singer Chris used to live in Ingersoll, and him and Pete were friends from way back and hadn't seen each other in years. The rest of the guys know him as well and there is much excitement when they greet each other. After the introductions with the boys from Mr. Machete had taken place, I noticed 2 things about them. Firstly, they were all really nice guys, and secondly, these boys liked to drink. We set up the "stage" which was about the width of the van. The bar was occupied by us, the Machete boys, and a few stragglers that were there for the beer. Mr.Mafuckingchete started playing and they instantly rocked! Chris, their lead singer and guitar player, was rocking out as if they were playing to a crowd of thousands - he had about 18 in the crowd that night but we all loved it. They broke out Iron Maiden's Trooper and tried to get Pete to sing but he claimed he didn't know the words. They closed off their set but not before doing the classic Scorpions rock pyramid... a move far too classy for us not to steal!!! 
We got set up and our set list plan was to just go with what we felt. And oh yes my friends, Dirty Deeds was the opener, and the crowd of now 12 was loving it!! We were rocking out pretty hard but I was cautious of the downward stair case just to the left of Darren. I didn't need a trip to the hospital tonight. E-Retro was next on the hit list and the rock was pounding hard as I noticed 2 fine young officers from the prestigious Toronto police department in attendance. They didn't seem to be into us very much. The bartender brought a sign up to us that read "they want it LOWER". We made it look like we turned down the volume and continued on with our rock assult. Next thing I know, one of the cops is on stage having a friendly conversation with Randy.
"You're gonna have to turn it way down!" he ordered.
"Okay dude, but we can't really turn the drums down." Randy cracked back.
"Well fine, but turn your guitars down...NOW!" snapped the cop. Somebody get this man a jelly, he's going into withdrawl!!
"Fine dude," Randy argued, pointing at his amp. "There's the knob, YOU turn it down to what you feel is an acceptable volume."
"Listen, I'm not touching you amp," Porky Pig rants on. "I don't really want to be here so either you turn down, or we are shutting the bar down for the night." 
We actually did turn down this time and broke out into Giv'er. In the middle of the song, Steve Goof, the bar owner came up and turned off the PA. As he did so, he looked into the video camera and snarled "FUCKING COPS!". So our first show of the tour was shut down after 3 songs by the Cops. Now that is PUNK FUCKING ROCK! You'd think that we would all be pissed off at this point but I felt it was the perfect end to our first show.
We headed off with the Machete boys to Oshawa to try and hit last call at a nudey bar. We never made it to our intended destination but drove right by accident scene number two for the day. They handed me the video camera and as we drove by I saw a still body bleeding face down on the concrete. I got a bit dizzy and put the camera down and, of course, got no footage at all. The boys were disappointed but forgave me none the less.
We pulled into a parking lot to let Brent, the Machete drummer out. Randy and Darren got out of the van to have a smoke as Dent, the bass player came up to the van window to chat with me and Pete. As soon as he opened his mouth, this gust of a boozy scent came swooping at us. This dude was completely hammered. He was saying something about funky names and rocking but neither Pete nor I could figure out what he was trying to say. After a few minutes of interesting, yet completely uncomprehendable conversation, he walked away. We looked at each other, shrugged and got a quick chuckle, which made us both look forward to our show in Oshawa the next night. Chris kindly let us stay with him in Port Perry. 
Chris has a really nice two bedroom apartment with 2 cats. This worried me as I am allergic but he scored me 2 Sinutabs to look after it, what a host! Also, to keep the cats at their distance he put me in his daughters bedroom. There were 2 huge Britney Spears posters and little dolls and stuffed toys all over the little bed. I took the bed and Pete snagged the floor. Randy and Darren decided to cuddle on the pullout couch since neither had a blanket. When they opened the couch up a treasure of jellybeans, cookie crumbs, clothing and a few cents came pouring out on to the floor. I guess this got the giggles started and everytime one of them would move, more goodies would spill out onto the floor. Pete and I briefly discussed our first show and thought it wans't bad sice we got $25 which worked out to $7 per song. I quickly fell asleep and the first night of our tour was over and I was still alive!!!