I missed day one, either because I wasn't high enough on the food chain in the Local to work it or I got overlooked. Whatever. I needed the day off anyway to prepare for what is the insanity of a Rolling Stones show and to spend some quality time with my son.
Polite to a fault, the Stones will work your ass into the ground whilst paying you for a chance to be next to "Rock Royalty."
Come on, now, you know I don't subscribe to that bullshit notion, but I must say, for a band as established and tenured as the Stones, they are personally one of the nicest bunch of guys that you'd ever want to meet. If you ran into them at the local deli, they might even kick down tix to their show if they liked you enough. It's just with the six degrees of separation thing going on, they know everyone who knows everyone in the world at least ten times over. So you're not going to get backstage passes (unless you know someone, can tell them a good story, or impress them somehow,) and they've got their handlers to keep the rifraff out.
Amongst other Stones shows, I worked their rehearsals at the Fillmore in January 2000, and man, the day I was a runner for them, it was like someone shot off the starting gun at the beginning of the day and said get them everything under the sun that they want. I literally put over 100 miles on my truck from the moment I picked up their personal caterer at the Embarcadero Hyatt at 6 AM until 11PM that night, and that was just in the 7x7 square mile grid of San Francisco. Granted, I got paid mileage and everything, but if you could see their contract rider, it was a mile long, totally insane: specialty British foods and sauces, a British teapot, fine imported wines, all kinds of minutiae no ordinary humans would require. But realize, this is the Stones we're talking about. They know what it means to be rock stars. All this stuff is a tax write-off for them.
The only other runner gigs I have ever done were for Nana Moskouri and Joe Srtummer and the Mescaleros. Let me tell you, it was weird picking up Strummer and crew from SFO, working the show, then driving them back the next morning. Another story, another time.
But I digress, back to the Stones.
Today was an absolutely physically grueling day. The first day of a "steel call" (to be properly referenced later) is like the first day of school in sixth grade. No one knows anyone else, people are trying to figure out how to size each other up, yet at the same time there is a sense of mutual respect until proven otherwise. Then it's a free-for-all. You either claim your territorial space and prove your worthiness, or you realize everyone else working with you is on the same team and just wants to get the day over with so they can go drink beer. Today was an example of the latter day; there are no saints. Everyone on the call had to deal with the same inclement weather conditions, so we all got over the ego trip first thing in the morning and decided to work as a team. It was one of those days where no matter what tour you're on or high your entertainment industry horse is, everyone got along really well on all levels. And this was, on top of everything else, the day every one's schedule was going to be fucked up for the rest of the week, because Mick Jagger got sick and had to postpone the concert date until Monday the 6th.
So all in all, it was a really good day in the entertainment industry. Pictures to follow.
Remember, don't try this at home, folks! Seriously. Look at the pix I took today. Nobody else you know has these shots. One false move and you're dead. Literally. Here's 4'000 pounds of steel flying at you at 25 mph. Don't blink! Oops! Too late. Here you go plummeting 90 feet to your death. Splat. Don't forget that it's been raining all day and everything is slippery wet.
This is my life. This is what I do for a living. It can be really fucked up. But it can also be the coolest thing ever. You have to figure it out for yourself. What do you want out of life?
"A solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
Or, a baby's arm holding an apple?"
The Tubes, "What do you Want out of Life?"
Polite to a fault, the Stones will work your ass into the ground whilst paying you for a chance to be next to "Rock Royalty."
Come on, now, you know I don't subscribe to that bullshit notion, but I must say, for a band as established and tenured as the Stones, they are personally one of the nicest bunch of guys that you'd ever want to meet. If you ran into them at the local deli, they might even kick down tix to their show if they liked you enough. It's just with the six degrees of separation thing going on, they know everyone who knows everyone in the world at least ten times over. So you're not going to get backstage passes (unless you know someone, can tell them a good story, or impress them somehow,) and they've got their handlers to keep the rifraff out.
Amongst other Stones shows, I worked their rehearsals at the Fillmore in January 2000, and man, the day I was a runner for them, it was like someone shot off the starting gun at the beginning of the day and said get them everything under the sun that they want. I literally put over 100 miles on my truck from the moment I picked up their personal caterer at the Embarcadero Hyatt at 6 AM until 11PM that night, and that was just in the 7x7 square mile grid of San Francisco. Granted, I got paid mileage and everything, but if you could see their contract rider, it was a mile long, totally insane: specialty British foods and sauces, a British teapot, fine imported wines, all kinds of minutiae no ordinary humans would require. But realize, this is the Stones we're talking about. They know what it means to be rock stars. All this stuff is a tax write-off for them.
The only other runner gigs I have ever done were for Nana Moskouri and Joe Srtummer and the Mescaleros. Let me tell you, it was weird picking up Strummer and crew from SFO, working the show, then driving them back the next morning. Another story, another time.
But I digress, back to the Stones.
Today was an absolutely physically grueling day. The first day of a "steel call" (to be properly referenced later) is like the first day of school in sixth grade. No one knows anyone else, people are trying to figure out how to size each other up, yet at the same time there is a sense of mutual respect until proven otherwise. Then it's a free-for-all. You either claim your territorial space and prove your worthiness, or you realize everyone else working with you is on the same team and just wants to get the day over with so they can go drink beer. Today was an example of the latter day; there are no saints. Everyone on the call had to deal with the same inclement weather conditions, so we all got over the ego trip first thing in the morning and decided to work as a team. It was one of those days where no matter what tour you're on or high your entertainment industry horse is, everyone got along really well on all levels. And this was, on top of everything else, the day every one's schedule was going to be fucked up for the rest of the week, because Mick Jagger got sick and had to postpone the concert date until Monday the 6th.
So all in all, it was a really good day in the entertainment industry. Pictures to follow.
Remember, don't try this at home, folks! Seriously. Look at the pix I took today. Nobody else you know has these shots. One false move and you're dead. Literally. Here's 4'000 pounds of steel flying at you at 25 mph. Don't blink! Oops! Too late. Here you go plummeting 90 feet to your death. Splat. Don't forget that it's been raining all day and everything is slippery wet.
This is my life. This is what I do for a living. It can be really fucked up. But it can also be the coolest thing ever. You have to figure it out for yourself. What do you want out of life?
"A solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
Or, a baby's arm holding an apple?"
The Tubes, "What do you Want out of Life?"
