Backstage with Baldy
Salt Lake City – September 2nd
Word went out early in the day here in Salt Lake City that there would be an after show party.
At a few stops along the way on this tour there have been after-parties, each thrown by a separate band or group.
Tonight it was the audio and video departments that were in charge.
Throughout the day we kept hearing of plans and ideas for what would take place, and who would be participating.
Obviously the party would be full of crew guys. We’ve got enough of those to fill 17 parties, but thankfully there are enough women on the Uproar staff to keep it from being a full-fledged XY chromosome fest.
And as you might have guessed, there were several crew guys sweeping the grounds throughout the day looking for female attendees who would be interested in sticking around for the festivities.
It was about midway through the day when I first heard the word “strippers”.
Then shortly after that I heard the words “oil wrestling”.
Not long after that two of our strongest lunged crew members were busy in the dressing room blowing up a large inflatable swimming pool, and our runner showed up with gallons upon gallons of oil.
So now this was really starting to look like the kind of sleazy depravity you’d expect from professional touring industry veterans, and I was kind of looking forward to it.
Alice’s set ended, and about 45 minutes later a handful of us had finished up our jobs for the evening and decided to pop around the corner to see how things were looking in Partyville.
And we saw a bunch of dudes standing around.
And a DJ spinning some hip hop.
And the inflatable pool with no one in it, and about 20 gallons of oil still in containers surrounding it.
But it wasn’t even midnight, and there were still plenty of people wrapping up work, so we figured things would pick up.
And they did.
More people started showing up, the booze was starting to flow, a few people were dancing, and most importantly, the girl to guy ratio evened out a little bit.
I’m girlfriended up, but just because I’m not interested in hitting on someone doesn’t mean I want to stand around in a cluster of sweaty crew dudes scratching their marbles and talking about trucks & guns.
So as I was talking to our head of security, he informed me that the bikinis had been broken out, and that the oil wrestling contest would be commencing shortly.
I’d just come from the dressing room and had a box of Mike’s stuff with me, so I went to the bus to drop it off and head back to watch what was surely to be some fine athletic competition.
And we left.
I won’t go into who made the decision, but suffice it to say that 9 shows in 12 days had caught up with some of us, and even bikini’d oil wrestling wasn’t enough to keep us around.
I’d like to think that the party was a huge success, everyone had a great time, and it was the classiest oil wrestling competition the state of Utah has ever seen.
But as of this writing, I haven’t spoken to anyone yet, so I’m not sure what happened.
I just know that it happened while I was sitting in a bus on the way to Idaho.
Ugh, yawn, & Boo.