am I the only drummer out there that played those old bars and cheap dives .for exsample I was playing a bar one night I looked down and saw bugs crawling every where .needless to say that was a one night gig for me.
it's fun to look back at those times but it makes you think hard about
what your doing and where you doing it. thank every one

I remember one gig imparticular where I kept itching and itching all night. There was bugs or fleas or someting climbing all over me! I'll never forget it as long as I live. It was a real dive out in the country. It creeped me out. I never played there again.

There was another "lounge" that I used to play and they had a serious roach problem. You only saw them during the day when you were setting up. We used to wonder if those people at night had any idea just how many roaches were "dancing" with them. LOL

thanks for your reply drummer ,I like to read and hear those old war stories.
I knew I wasn't the only one to have played those old places. I never was
or will be famous I just love to play and try to help others. again thanks

Up in Alaska they joke about the state bird. Nope not the bald eagle but the Mosquito. They get pretty mean up there. Some are as big as Hi-Hat cymbal. They swarm in packs. While your playing at the concert you can see them coming closer and closer as the swarm approaches. They like the heat from the stage equipment or musicians. They get up your nose, in your mouth, in your eyes up your shorts. All you can think about is can we please pick-up the beat. I'm never been big on doing a drum solo but for that few minutes I just wanted to pull a Mike Shreives solo. I just wanted to hit something and keep moving. I know what you mean by feeling itchy. Needed a blood transfusion after the gig. Not. Really hard to concentrate on your playing. When your getting eaten alive. Your all sweaty and can't run away. What a nightmare.
I also remember doing a gig at another outdoor festival in Alaska when this hugh bald eagle swooped down over the stage and grabbed this little lap dog. I think it was a ****zu with it's claws and took the dog that was 4 ft.from this lady walking it. The lady screamed so loud it scared eveyone in the area to death. We heard her over the music. Huge Eagle had to have over a 6" wing span. The lady fainted and the ambulance came on to the field to revive her. She didn't have to go to the hospital. Ironiclly we were playing ( Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf). That incident really screwed up our set list. The crowd became very somber. We couldn't decide on what to play after we stopped. I missed a few beats. Our adrenaline was so pumped up. I was shaking. We were looking at each other with the expression of did that really happen? Did you see that? It happen so fast. I still remember the scream. Horror movie scream. All you could do was watch the eagle and that small dog fade away as the sun set over the majestic mountains. Kind of made you alittle patriotic Oh beautiful for spacious skys. It funny now but at the time it was tragic. We had to stop playing for a few minutes. The place was so quite. I believe we played Willy Nelsons on the road again next. We saw her husband later about an hour or so after we were finished playing drinking in the beer tent. Told him how bad we felt for the loss of his dog and he said under his breath "I never liked that little sh-- of a dog anyway." Unbelievable what an ***.

Holy crap, Timer, what a story! I guess no one ever replied 'cos this thread is lost back on page 11! Unfortunate, 'cos this story rocks!
Now me, personally, I LMAO when I read the reply from the old man. What a trip! Wish I had stories like that.
Here's my only gig story that's any good. (I haven't had too many gigs.) We played at some cheap dive down the street from my college. Between sets, the bar guy would announce stuff like, "99 cent drafts for the next....THREE MINUTES!" So everyone rushes over there, and only the first 10 got the deal. Cheap bastards. Guess that's why they changed ownership like three different times in my four years at Eckerd College.

Ok, one more funny story from my band in college. We never did come up with a good band name. Screwing around, Chris, our guitar player, said we were called the Four Skins. (Look at it again, and say it slow. Ya get it?) Somehow, that was the name that was given to the radio station that advertised our gig. So all over the Tampa Bay area, anyone listening and paying attention got the news that there was a band called the Foreskins....er, "Four Skins"...playing at the Fun Dome on 34th St. S. To this day I'm wondering what bright person told them that was our name. Ya know, it's really not funny, 'cos there weren't even four of us in the band! Those were the days....