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Lost On Broadway

Tuesday, 20030930

(Lunar phase = 5)

   Dave drives up to the club on Broadway Street in San Francisco. H8R has a show to play here tonight and the load-in time is around six o’clock. The street’s a mess as usual and parking’s fucked. Dave drives around to the back parking area.
   “I don’t get it.” Dave says to Pete, who’s riding with Nick also in the truck. “Why do they have us load in from the front of the street when it’s closer to the stage from the rear parking lot?”
   Well it’s no surprise, ’cuz the owner of the club’s some big mad Russian dude like the owner of Paladino’s in Los Angeles. This nonsense is just so typical.
   By now people are already heading inside to check out the first band. Dave already cleared it with the owner that they can load-in a bit later, since there are bands before them. But it’s getting dark now and they really should be loading in. It’s past eight already and the band needs to play around nine. It’s way to late to still be parked out back. Dave tries to round up the crew.
   There are two dudes out back here in the shadows. A thin one and a short one. The thin one reminds Dave of Ian. He tells them to jump in so they can drive around to the front and start loading in. There’s a dark jacket laying on the ground by an old oak tree, and Dave almost runs over it when backing up.
   “Was that your jacket?” Dave asks the short dude, who appears to be wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket that’s too large for him.
   Indeed, it is the jacket that was on the ground, and Dave’s glad they didn’t leave it behind. It reminds him of his own motorcycle jacket.

   When they drive around to the front of the club, Dave’s in even more of a panic. It’s getting near nine o’clock! That means there are only a matter of minutes in which to load-in! Worse yet, the entire scene is unfamiliar! Dave has no idea where they are, and neither do the other two!
   Now they’re lost and they have no idea how to get back to Broadway Street! Fast-moving traffic surrounds them wherever they drive, as the streets are large and busy. Any side-streets seem to just lead to dead-ends like small European alleys.
   “He’s gonna’ kill us!” Dave says, knowing they’ve already missed the load-in.

   This situation only getting worse, Dave has to get out to ask directions. He enters a Euro-style coffee shop and asks. Now he’s trapped in a multi-story building labyrinth! How do I get back outside?!
   As he runs down a stairwell, he sees it’s starting to rain outside. It’s tropical weather, and this could be an Asian country, maybe a metropolis in the Philippines! On the brighter side, he likes the idea of the rain cleaning off the city streets and the polluted air.
   He finds an office where the door’s open and the light’s on. Preet’s there, and Dave asks her to help him find his way.
   “I don’t know,” She answers, “But he might...”
   She points to a male colleague who waits in the hallway.
   “Do you know?” Dave asks him.
   “Well, there is this emergency exit...” The dude points to the exit down at the end of the hall.
   They run down the hall and kick the security latch open. Dave worries there would be an alarm, but no sound erupts. With relief, he makes his way outside.
   “Here, wear this!” The dude tells him, lifting a camo-green backpack onto Dave’s shoulders.
   Without a second thought, Dave slips into it and it fits perfectly, like an old shoe.
   “Nice!” The dude says, impressed at the perfect fit of the combat backpack on Drummin’ Dave’s shoulders.

   They head off down the street. Cars race all around. It’s horrible!
   Suddenly, Arch-Commander Blackdeath sees a large, blue car. It’s an old gas-guzzling V-8, the paint dulled from the sun. It’s radiator grill looks like a big, hungry, metal-toothed mouth!
   “Hey!” Blackdeath exclaims to his aide, “Check out this car that looks like the Bat!”
   The people inside don’t match the vehicle at all! It’s the entire Brady Bunch family, with Alice the housekeeper! Blackdeath peers inside and the Brady family freaks out! They jump out of the car in complete panic and run away down the street.
   “Looks like we got our ride back!” Blackdeath says with a smile, and they hop in.
   The engine roars to life and they pummel down the street, cutting through traffic like it were butter and them the hot knife. Blackdeath has no idea where they’re going, just that they have to be at the club on Broadway Street and they’re late! He careens the blue monster through some security barriers and down to the ocean. Its front end plows through the water sending a wake flying out in both sides. The front end dips under then flies up again and they’re on dry land.
   On the beach here, things seem quiet again. Blackdeath wonders if the Bat is still operational. It is.
   Blackdeath looks up towards the cliff wall above the beach, at a large structure with many pigeon-holed rooms. This used to be San Francisco, but it’s been overrun by a foreign government under the guise of administration by the puppet G. W. Bush. There are people trapped out here, many of them. And they all look the same, be they children, women or men--all of them emaciated and hollow-eyed. All are dressed in prisoner clothes, with little hats like the Nazis had for their death-camp “residents”.
   “So this is the truth about what happened. This is the REAL world!......”
   Arch-Commander Blackdeath knows he needs to get out of here! And so do these poor people!...


1. Skitzo has a show at the Last Day Saloon in Santa Rosa on October 15th. Last night at practice, Lance told me the owner wants us to load-in at 6:30... (return)

2. Like Enslavior’s show at the Curve Bar on Sept. 11th with Stomach. Which, by the way, was a no-show turn-out! Except for my good buddy Greg and a rockin’ blond-haired fan. We worked our asses off to get set-up on stage and play by the designated time. The gig was poorly promoted -- what did I forget to do? -- go figure... (return)

3. Well that’s a whole other story right there! H8R’s first gig in L.A. and we had to deal with some psycho dude who screams shit like “This is bullshit! I need this space for more tables!” (where the other bands had stored their gear) and “What about the money!!”. All his employees were cowering and cringing in fear... (return)

4. Like how we had to pay to play at Marine World! Don’t even mention the credit fraud!... (return)

5. Flashbacks from the El Verano Inn gig with The Bennies!... We got a call from Steve right when we were supposed to leave from Nick’s. Steve needed me to go in to the Cotati Police station and try to identify the dude that knocked him out at Spancky’s. Of course I did it! And so everything went late that night and we had to deal with another salty club owner and his anal-drumstick-itis... (return)

6. Who I met outside of New George’s when flyering. Then, after that gig went sour and we passed by again a few weeks later (on our way to the Testament/Death Angel/Violence/Impaled/Halford gig at the Avalon Ballroom), the same “Ian” was out there again and we gave him a ride in to the city! He wondered if some musicians play “heavy metal jazz”...

Here was the message we sent out in e-mail (note how this was the same night the U.S. was busy launching its “new” war on Iraq!):

Last night's show at New George's in San Rafael was cancelled at the last minute. Even though ENSLAVIOR arrived on time for load-in at seven p.m., the club owner asked us if we would not play his club that night. He didn't want to pay for a sound-man after he learned that headliners Pollo Enfermo (featuring Prairie Prince of the Jefferson Starship) had backed-out of the show.

Pollo means "Chicken" in Spanish and out of professional courtesy, we will refrain from suggesting more appropriate Hispanic names for that band. For one reason or another, Pollo cancelled on the day of the show. And what a day it was!

Since ENSLAVIOR was all there and ready to play anyway, we moved the show to the Sebastopol Stage in Sonoma, where we added our intense Metal music to the voices of people protesting the "new" war with Iraq. We played until ten after ten, when the Sebastopol Police stopped circling the stage (as they'd been doing all night) and stepped out of their ride to tell us to shut down. Locals had complained about the noise and needed to get some sleep now.

All said and done, we hope to independently schedule other shows at New George's in the near future. Find pictures of the ENSLAVIOR Anti-War Demonstration at

7. Like the oak tree behind the El Verano, where we were instructed to go when smoking... (return)

8. Again, flashbacks from the El Verano... (return)

9. We had to get last-minute directions from Ben over the cell phone, on how to find the El Verano. Nobody knew how to get there and the directions Ben gave us were completely different from what the bartender had told me over the phone... (return)

10. OK, so this is starting to sound like “the Matrix”?... (return)

11. Like Larry’s old station wagon that we rode (with “Ian”) to the Avalon Ballroom show. Also my old Buick LeSabre!... (return)

copyright © 2003 David Pierre Ostwald. All rights reserved.

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