Chapter Seventy:     MONTREAL

Theatre Saint-Denis, Montreal, Quebec, Saturday 6th of June--
DONALD TENNISON, sound engineer reporting--

Hi, this is Don, I'm Chrome Pie's sound guy, or acoustics engineer, as we say in the biz. Everybody knows the stars by name, but nobody ever hears about the sound guy unless he screws up the mix. The better he does his job the less you notice him. It's a behind-the-scenes thing. But now it seems to be my turn to step forward into the light and write this review/chapter about our concert in Montreal. At last, my name shall be mentioned! That's right: Don, D-O-N; sound guy. Remember that: there might be a written test later.

But first let me also mention a little something about myself so you have an actual idea of who's writing this thing. I've been mixing Chrome Pie's sound for almost as long as they've been playing music together, only 17 years old when I started working with them both on stage and in the studio.

They'd had a pretty big hit with their first album, Chrome Pie, but were not quite super-famous yet and I was into another kind of music, techno, so I wasn't quite sure who they were when I first spotted their ad seeking a new sound engineer. I checked them out on YouTube and was impressed by their one and only video of Please Don't Kill Me, Baby. I needed a job, their studio was close to me, so I tried out for it.

We hit it off. I liked their music and they liked the way I made it sound with a few simple twiddlings of dials and the digital optimizer I'd invented while studying audio sciences at Cal Tech at the age of 15. I'd been considered kind of a child prodigy back then, already deeply into high-tech toys and electronic music. Well, nobody calls me a prodigy any more, but I can still be pretty childish. Yuk yuk. See?

Anyway, I got the job, which changed my life. I was a bona fide nerd from Anaheim-- and therefore a virgin --when I met the band, but the virginal part got fixed during our very first concert after-party where I was introduced to groupies. So here I am today; yes, it's the same sad old story about how the decadent life of rock and roll turns innocent young boys into addicts. Oh no, not drugs or alcohol, I'm totally disinterested in that stuff, it's the groupies I got hooked on.

I also liked the guys in the band, Scott and Charlie were a bit older than me (they still are) and they took me in like big brothers. I was legally too young to get into some of the music venues so they procured me some false ID. I normally never got carded because I don't drink anyway, so I never got close enough to the bar to get challenged. The one time I actually got carded was at a pub concert in Vancouver BC, but I was 19 by then, which put me just over the legal age in Canada, although not USA. Eventually I did turn 21, now 27, but I still don't drink.

So I've been on these concert tours before, this being my fifth run around the States and we did a European tour about 3 years back. This one is pretty special because of Squatch & Friends touring with us, not as a warm-up act but all of us as one big expanded orchestra. I guess this is supposed to be an experiment, but it seems like everyone likes what's happening with us-- especially the audiences. Long tours are expensive and don't always pay off, but we seem to be making good money this time. But best yet, none of the guys in Chrome Pie are going on ego trips like they've always done when they start getting too close to other musicians for any extended amount of time. Especially Benny Joe, who can get jealous about his drum solos-- although he doesn't with Pokey, who plays American Indian tom-tom style so is not really competing with BJ's big metallic drum set. And Charlie's bass works so well with Lissandra's cello sounds, no conflict there. In fact, the only real problem we have all together is that the girls in S&F are just too tempting to resist. Lucky for the survival of the band Adam is big enough to keep everyone behaving properly.

I'm not speaking just for myself, almost every guy on this tour is feeling some kind of agony about those girls. I know BJ wants at least two of them. Mike may actually be getting two of them, but he's not saying, although you'd think he'd be bragging his ass off if he was. Some of us suspect that Adam could be getting ALL of them, but that also seems unlikely, him being a Sasquatch and all. Not that Adam's ugly, lots of groupies are interested in him, except that his size scares them off. But he doesn't encourage groupies, acts like he's married-- to someone, most likely Magga but nobody knows --he seems satisfied with whatever he has going on. When I said I was hooked on groupies, what I meant was that I've been hooked on all that wonderful free sex, but not always so enthusiastic about just who those girls were. Airheads are fun, then you send them home and say hi to the next airhead that comes along. You don't fall in love with any of them, it wouldn't be smart. But I think I'm beginning to miss actually being in love with someone. Probably because of... no, better not say who.

Or wait, they did ask us to write "uninhibited" reports of our experience on this tour. Maybe I should just go ahead and admit that I seem to have fallen in love with one particular girl on this tour. Maybe, but I think it'd be more fun to be kind of coy about it instead of heart-on-sleeve when I don't know if I have a chance with her or not. Although maybe I do, who knows? Maybe I should let her know? Or maybe I shouldn't.

What I do know is that groupies aren't really doing it for me lately; I keep comparing them to... "Watsername". They aren't what I want. She is.

We've all just had a week off from the tour; Scott flew home to wife and kids for the break, Charlie's been in Indianapolis to find out if he's in love with that girl Anne, guess he's tired of groupies too (best of luck, Charlie, I know how you feel). Adam's been off to Ontario to find some fellow Bigfoots, and it sounds like he did. Melly and Lissandra went to Cuba with Mike and JB and Old Man Ewan, don't yet know how that worked out. Pokey and Maki went to her cousin's wedding in Seattle.

And there were the other eight of us, musicians and roadies, who hung out near Toronto for the week living in the bus for free, including me. We were camping at Wasaga Beach on Georgian Bay, just north of Toronto, famous as "the longest freshwater beach in the world". The weather was hot and sunny all week, probably just as good as being on Cuba; we were in a beach party town and took advantage of every girl who was willing. I never said I was finished with groupies. We had the bus for transport, cruised around, I always ended up being the designated driver on the way back to camp. That duty is usually spread out a little better when Pokey and Adam are available so that I'm not the only non-drinker, but they were both away for the week.

Since our vacation was almost over, we drove to Montreal a day early to set up a camp there. I already knew the campsite from previous tours, an RV Park. Most of us like Montreal-- we can pretend we're in Paris, listening to French being spoken, even if we can't understand a word-- and our camp is just a short bus trip and ferry boat ride across the Saint Laurent river from downtown Montreal.

A bunch of us went into town for the evening: Osmond (our middle-aged security thug), Gene (our high-strung computer whiz and token black dude), Sunny and Marcie (our roadie princesses), and me (Don, remember?). Lee and Bunny stayed back with the busses, since someone has to and Osmond wanted a break from security duty. I’m never interested in getting drunk, and especially not out-of-your-mind drunk like Osmond and Marcie often get. Marcie's gay and can be a pretty aggressive dike when she drinks; Osmond is a big tough ex-con and often acts like he's eager to get locked up again, so I prefer being somewhere else. We split up.

Sunny and Gene went with me, since I knew a certain restaurant where they made French cuisine like they’re supposed to; crépes, candied duck, etc. Sunny loved it, Gene was being fussy as always, but we really did eat well.

The next day, Saturday, the plan was that everyone was to meet up by 2:00 at our current music venue, the Théâtre Saint-Denis. It's located right in the Latin Quarter, which is the cool part of Montreal, as in "Ooo la la, it's just so French". Adam and his two squatch chicks were already there before us, fresh from the Ontario wilderness. We went into the theater and were unpacking our equipment when Pokey and Maki arrived by taxi, the gang from Havana right behind them. So we were all gathered, nobody missing, back to normal and back to work.

Old Ewan had been kind of worried that we young punks would screw up somehow, not meeting up on time, but everybody did. He finally had to shrug and say, "No worries, mates," just like an Aussie is supposed to.

Of course, that means the girl I seem to be falling in love with was also there. And since everybody's telling their fabulous stories about their week of adventures I have the opportunity of looking directly at her without seeming creepy, studying her to find out why I want exactly that girl more than any other. She's sitting almost across from me, like on display, just driving me crazy while I pretend to be cool and calm.

All right, Watsername's very pretty, but then so are all seven of the women on this tour, including the squatch chicks. But then, being beautiful is kind of required for women in the music and entertainment biz. Most groupies who show up usually aren't as attractive as these girls we work with. And Watsername is a step (or two) up from there.

I'm tempted to describe her, just for the thrill of it, but if I say what color her hair is, or how she's built, it'd be too easy to guess her identity, so I'd better not. Although I really do want to wallow in her deliciousness... Never mind the clichés like "gorgeous" or "stunning", yes she's all that, but mainly there's something more. She's smart and nice, I can see and hear that and I get caught up in any words she speaks. Her posture, her physical presence; all hypnotic to me. I like that she wears no make-up, no bra, nothing artificial; so natural and perfect. Mainly she looks young and clean, healthy and fit; the girl I wish lived next door. My kind of girl, is what it amounts to. Actually, everybody's kind of girl.

I'm aware that I am writing myself into a corner here. If I describe any more you'll all know who I'm talking about-- and so will she. I'll just end up being embarrassed when she has to tell me there's no chance.

It's not that I think no girl would ever have me, like we nerds always do. Ever since I've been a roadie with a rock and roll band I've been doing okay with women, at least sex-wise. Sometimes so much that it's crazy, right on the edge of being overload. But I learned quick that it was all just passing fancies. At first I fell in love a lot and was morally concerned about being faithful to every new girl (or girls) I spent the night with, but soon learned that most of them didn't want that at all, they already had plans for the next band coming to town.

I've mentioned the week I spent at Wasaga Beach, when Watsername wasn't around but non-stop groupies were. I had a flirt with a pretty nice girl, we saw each other for 3-4 days in a row, and yes, we had lots of sex and some other fun too. It was like having an actual girlfriend. But then it was time to go back on tour and I just told her good-bye, like I always do. She did seem kind of sad about that, but I just don't believe that she or any of those girls really care about who I am. Roadie X.

I get the feeling that Watsername isn't like that, that she'd be dedicated to her guy. Could I be that guy? Or was there one already?

We finally had to start getting ready for our concert so my legally permitted peek at her was done. The bands hadn't played together in a week, so a rehearsal was in order, I had sound checks to do. Back to work!

The Théâtre Saint-Denis is a pretty sweet venue; a hundred years old but renovated in 2016. It's got good acoustics (which any sound guy appreciates), it seats over 2000 paying customers, which is about right for our show. I have to shape the music to the acoustics of the room, taking into account that it will be filled with human bodies during the concert. The weather was quite good, which makes it easier than when a howling storm is going on. I have a few inventions of my own for tailoring the audio on its way to the audience, preferring to deliver a crisp but not painful experience. That's what the performers like too, make those vocals stand out and be sweetly understandable, bring the electric guitars in and out for the holy solos, let the drums crash but not smash.

Rehearsal went well-- we could hear a few rough patches from not having played for an entire week, but everybody still knew their parts and after a few repeats the rough became smooth, so after one complete set we were all satisfied. Shouldn't overdo rehearsals or you burn out, considering that we play about 30 songs to a standard set and have another 10 backup songs just in case. We stopped about 6.00 pm, giving us a couple of hours to relax before the show was to begin at 8:00.

Ewan had arranged for sandwiches and beer to be catered. One sandwich each was perfect, nobody wants to be hungry or overeat before a concert. And just one beer, alcohol intake needs to be controlled too. Musicians like to take the edge off with a few drinks, I can understand that, but it can easily go wrong since you actually need some edge to do a good concert. It's all a balancing act, just like with the acoustics.

The concert went well. The audience was enthusiastic, there were lots of young people, but it was also balanced by an elegantly dignified ambience. The French influence, I suppose, although the Quebequoise are modern Canadians, no more European than we are. Most of them are probably bilingual to some degree, since they were coming to hear an American band, so I'd guess that they could understand the songs. Although Adam surprised everyone by greeting the audience in fluent French, a short but flawless little intro speech, which I guess he'd learned the other day while driving through Quebec. Somehow. Anyway that got a big applause and the concert just went uphill from there. I mean, that place was shimmering.

Being the sound guy, I like some songs more than others because of how I can polish them, make them bigger and better. I'm playing an instrument too, my mixing board, just like all the other musicians. For example, Adam's I Like To Run can be a house-shaker if I pull back on the reverb and crank up a tight delay to give it a bit more bounce, while Scott's High Priestess really profits from a heavy reverb and Charlie's Pleeza Condoliza needs to be raw and almost naked. But the sound also has to be sculpted to the room and the crowd, so it's different every show. I love my job.

When I first started with Chrome Pie they would all jealously control their own amps, which always ended up with everyone nudging his particular amp just a teensy bit louder so he could enjoy his own solo. Every guy every song, another notch up, until the mix was mush. So I insisted on full control of all amps, which was pretty cheeky for an 17-year old, but they came to realize that it sounded best if just one guy was consistently doing the mix. As a rule, I started by mixing their vocals to fit the drums and adding in guitars and keyboards one by one, and adjusting volumes all the way through a song, so that everyone gets to hear their own precious solos at maximum blend.

We were spot on during the Montreal concert: sometimes there's one particular song that becomes the high point for some reason, but that evening the best performances kept coming one after another as we got warmed up, maybe because the audience was giving us good feedback, but this concert seemed to have no lid on it. The last number was Adam's Gypsy Girl with Miguel de Santo going full flamenco on guitar, besides all our musicians, chorus-singers and even some roadies backing him up, as well as everyone else in the audience. Maybe it was because our bands had had a week off and now everyone was super-ready to be making music together again.

Our next concert will be on Tuesday in Boston, so we have a couple of free days. Fine with me, especially since the weather is still so nice. Most of us roadies have been to Montreal a couple of times before so we're not really interested in tourist stuff, like the on-off busses or museums. And after a week at Wasaga we're pretty much beached out for a while. I noticed that the squatch chicks are getting very bored with all these cities: busy streets, tall buildings, fast food they considered semi-poisonous. And to tell the truth, I sympathize: cities can be boring, especially one after another.

Although actually, Montreal does have that French twist that tends to make the town a little more exotic. At least to us Americans, maybe not so exotic for squatches, since all cities look alike and they're in a foreign culture no matter where they go. But I kind of like the alien feeling of this town. I really enjoyed our European Tour a few years back. Loved Paris. And Germany, even though I don't drink beer, which must sound weird, I guess. Maybe we could do another European tour next year, along with S&F.

We've got a good camping place here and the weather is still good so we agreed to spend a day more in Montreal. None of the S&F folks had ever been here before, so they were open to a little bit of tourism. I volunteered to guide them around. For one thing I like being with other non-drinkers like Adam and Pokey and Maki. But mainly because Watsername was coming along too, so this was maybe my big chance to hang out with her.

But I wasn't the only guy with such intentions; both Mike and Benny Joe came along. Or at least I sensed that they were after her, but there were other beauties along for the tour. We had all the S&F beauties: Melly, Lissandra, Magga, Masnia and Maki. Oh yeah, and Sunny...

Not that I mean to suggest that Sunny is a lesser beauty; she's actually pretty hot-- cute face, cute body too-- it's just that as a fellow roadie all us guys are conditioned to not consider her a potential score. She's not a groupie, she's one of us. Which could mean that if a flirt goes sour the whole band can fall apart, we've all seen it happen. Anyway she's off-limits: under Ewan's protection, he doesn't want any of our crew to treat her like a disposable groupie, with which I agree.

Truth is, Sunny's a lot of fun to have around, always happy and enthusiastic, lots of energy, kind of like a puppy. She's young, only 19, the newest addition to our group. I like her, we're actually pretty good friends, so I protect her too. Otherwise I'd fuck her in a heartbeat.

I led the group on a walk up Mont Royal, a nature-walk through the woods, good steep workout ending up at a spectacular overview of the city. Adam and his squatch chicks liked it up there, being in nature, and decided to wander off on their own rather than trudge through yet another city. That was fine with me, it's always a huge circus number to go walking around town with three sasquatches. Besides, that made for one less guy to share Watsername with (okay, by now you've probably figured out that she's neither Magga nor Masnia).

Coming back down to town we were ready to do a food tour, some snacks to power the walking. Actually, nobody was getting tired (except maybe me), all those S&F folk are in pretty good shape, maybe because they go jogging with a bigfoot every day. We continued on our walking tour down Saint-Paul Street through Old Montreal, explored one of the street markets, usual stuff.

The Notre-Dame Basilica is always a hit with Americans, not used to churches built in the 1600's; big, ornamental, stained glass windows, gold trimmings. You'd think it should be a copy of that other Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, French heritage and all, but it isn't.

Finally it became evening and we were all touristed out and hungry. Pokey and Maki had gone off on their own by then. So we were down to me, Mike & BJ, Melly, Lissandra and Sunny. I had been frustrated and irritated all day because Mike and JB were always between me and Watsername, making it pretty much impossible for me to work up any kind of conversation with her. Mike wasn't so bad, he acted relaxed with all the girls, didn't seem especially focused on any one of them. Flirting with them all equally, being a latin lover, you know. It’s just that he was SO comfortable with them that he had to be either the perfect big brother or he was already screwing them ALL, I couldn't tell which. Actually, Sunny was trying to flirt with him but he didn’t really seem to notice, or was pretending not to. Benny Joe was just the opposite: aggressive, constantly hinting that he’d like to get laid —with pretty much anyone- mainly pestering both Melly and Lissandra. Sunny too, on and off. If she had smiled at him he would have been all over her, but Sunny knew better. Just like she knew about me; she'd seen us both being greedy with groupies.

Anyway, I led them to Chez Tousignant, maybe the most popular greasy spoon in town, for luxurious hot dogs and multi-stacked brioche-bunned cheesburgers. Extra-French french fries. Pork chops in a wine sauce. Amazing poutine, which is a Quebequoise specialty. They serve nothing but high-quality fast food. Lucky no one was in the mood for French cuisine in an elegant restaurant, me not being the best connoisseur of fine wines, since I never drink the stuff. What we did drink was locally-made sodas, even Benny Joe.

But after dinner BJ was all for finding a night club or tavern and getting some real drinks. Mike said he'd go for a drink if the S&F girls would come along, but they weren't so interested. Neither was I, of course, so I decided to go home, although I had basically given up on trying getting close to the girl I wanted, at least for this evening. But then one of those S&F girls said "Okay, I'll go with you guys for one drink," and the other girl-- Watsername --said she'd rather just head on home.

This was my first break, getting her away from those other guys. Except that now I was alone with too many girls, Sunny was going back to camp with us. I did manage a quick fantasy of maybe spending the night with both of them, but I was too chicken to make any kind of suggestion in that direction.

We took the ferry back across the Saint Laurent River to get us to the camp, pretty easy and rather romantic with all the night lights shining on the water. I was at the ship's railing between Watsername and Sunny, me trying to think of something to say to the one without the other hearing it. But before I found any usable words she went to the ladies' room, leaving me alone with Sunny.

Who turned to me and said: "She's not available, so don't bother."

"Huh?"

"She's with Mike, they are lovers."

"How do you know?"

"She told me. It's kind of secret, but I'm telling you because I can see the way you look at her. Better forget it."

"You think I don't have a chance against Mike?"

"Mike is... well, Miguel deSanto: guitar god, sexy latino. Good luck against that."

The way she said that made me remember how she'd been trying to flirt with him, without any luck. "Ah-haa, so you're hung up on Mike?"

"Uhh, well... yeah, I guess. Don't tell anyone. It's kinda embarrassing."

"Oh, I get embarrassing. Same for me."

"I know, that's why I warned you."

Funny about Sunny: I've mentioned that she's cute, and that Ewan doesn't want anyone taking advantage of her, but I haven't mentioned how much I'd fancied her when she first joined up with us. But Ewan had warned all us guys not to take advantage of her because she was so sweet and innocent. But after a few concerts she saw how we horny guys were all getting laid by groupies, so she did the same: grabbed a guy from the audience and spent the night with him. She wasn't about to be any more innocent than any of us! Again next concert, again new guy. Then two guys. A gang bang. She was having a great time and leaving us behind in the dust!

Watsername came back and Sunny went off for her turn in the ladie's room, or maybe just to give me a chance to have a shot at Watsername anyway. So there I was alone with my dream girl, finally one-on-one, just me and she with no other competing males-in-heat between us. Suddenly I relaxed. Yes, she was an ideal woman, but I knew I couldn't compete against Miguel deSanto, he was a star, I'm just a roadie. Just like Sunny couldn't compete against Watsername, who was also a star, Sunny being just a roadie like me.

But actually, I didn't really care. I had absolutely no interest in competing with anyone. I like Mike, he's a friend of mine, just like Sunny. Actually, Watsername is a friend too, now that I'm getting to know her. So we talked for a while, nice and relaxed, she even laughed at some of my jokes. I didn't need to win her over, but at least I got the feeling that I could have, if things had been different.

Sunny came back to us as the ferry was docking. I found myself thinking: is Watsername really that much more beautiful than... Sunny? They're both very nice women. It's all a matter of opinion, isn't it?

We took the bus and the short walk back to camp. Almost everyone else was there around a campfire, guitars being softly strummed, a joint floating about. All very friendly and cozy, home sweet home. There were no groupies around that night, or maybe there were, I just wasn't looking for any.