Packing and prepping, that’s what I am doing. Getting ready for The Best Weekend Ever… again. I say “again” because pretty much every time we leave home to go somewhere to play music, when we get home after a weekend or even if it is just a one-off gig on a Tuesday, someone (usually Brandon) says, “best weekend ever”.
The song chronicles one particular weekend which we will be repeating this weekend in Evergreen, Colorado for what we affectionally call “Summer Camp.” We have been doing it every July for so many years that no one can actually remember how many. This weekend is so fun and magical that we used to worry it could never be repeated and then every year, it is.
The song recounts a particular segment in time of this reoccurring tradition and follows the band as they pack up and leave town, arrive in Colorado and play a Friday and a Saturday night show. The song leaves Sunday to the imagination.
“Thursday in the old hood. Meet at the Greenwood. Everybody is searching for their soul. Few drinks are just fine. Neil takes the night drive. I love rock and roll.” (Joan Jett reference)
The gig starts on a Friday night in Evergreen Colorado which is just a little way up the mountain outside of Denver. It is about a 12 hour drive including stops for 6-8 people so we usually leave the night before. At the time of the writing of this song we had a keyboard player named Neil. He played every Thursday with the band The Soul Searchers at the Greenwood Lounge on Ingersoll Ave. in Des Moines.
The Soul Searchers at the Greenwood Lounge.
The Greenwood is a dive bar that serves up local live music every night of the week. We would meet up there to watch Neil play. Most of us would consume some adult beverages which served as sort of a magic sleeping potion that allowed for something that is as close as I’ll ever get to time travel. After Neil’s gig, we would load him into the van and he would start driving. I would quickly drift off into my time travel slumber and the next time I would open my eyes, poof, I was magically transported all the way to Colorado.
Friday morning sunrise. Poached eggs with home fries. The Overland Trail takes us in. Push through the last miles. Smokey and the Bandit Style. Feels so good to be “On The Road Again”. (Willie Nelson reference)
When we wake up in Colorado, we usually find ourselves near the town of Atwood and just in time for breakfast. The Overland Trail Cafe is/was in a Sinclair truck stop just off the interstate. We stumbled in for breakfast the first time, a long time ago, and from then on they knew our names whenever we stopped in. The staff even followed our show schedule to know when to watch for us. They had a great breakfast. I always ordered the traditional breakfast (2 eggs, over hard, hash browns, wheat toast and a side of bacon) and a bottomless cup of trucker swill. I was always jealous of Mike’s breakfast burrito. This particular gas station restaurant has a Colorado Lottery pull tab machine in the dining room, which was a great way to spend the time waiting for our food and clear out any extraneous folding money that may have survived the bar from the night before. I would say overall we are still even on our winnings if not just a little bit up against the house.
The Overland Trail Cafe in Atwood, Colorado, Also a great place to find a used Peterbuilt.
I like the paradoxical juxtaposition of the Overland Trail and Smokey and the Bandit. Both epic overland adventure versions of the heroes journey. One pioneering a new frontier and one just trying to deliver some beer.
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“Saturday we’re a little faced. Tear the roof off this place. Yeah, tonight’s gonna be so sick. Locked up the drums and bass. Keyboard solo will melt your face. Whoa whoa whoa, listen to the music” Doobie Brother Reference.
June 29th marked 5 years sober for my wife and I. I like to say that I drank a lifetime worth already. If there is one thing that is true about being a working musician is that everything revolves around alcohol. I wasn’t even sure I could be a musician without drinking alcohol. But I can, and it’s easy. I had my fill. Prior to 5 years ago there was a lot of drinking surrounding all of our shows. (Except the year we put out a children’s record and toured libraries and bookstores) So much so that we had a five-year sponsorship from Templeton Rye Whiskey. The Little Bear Saloon weekend, aka Best Weekend Ever, was no exception. Some years we would start when we arrived on Friday afternoon and not sober up until the trip home on Sunday night or Monday morning. By Saturday nights show we are a little “faced” meaning drunk and loopy. Things get a little casual and loose and unpredictable on stage. I think that is part of the show that people come for. I think that is part of the magic. No matter how loose Mike (the other lead singer and my musical partner of 30 years) and I got, the rhythm section would keep us in line. Then, during the Neil years, he would blow your mind with solos and sounds and vibes and jams like you couldn’t believe. Magic.
Mike Butterworth and I on stage at The Little Bear Saloon.
It’s that time, it’s now or never. 600 miles, Des Moines to Denver. Let’s meet there, and come together…It’s gonna be the Best…Weekend…Ever.
Well, it’s that time. We leave tomorrow at 6am. Driving through Nebraska all…day…long. It’s not too late. You can meet us there. It is only a little over 600 miles. There are people there already, waiting for us to show up. There are people flying in. There are people making a motorcycle trip of it. There are people car pooling or renting shuttle busses up from Denver. People coming together for one common interest. Music, fellowship, dancing, singing, and spending time with friends. Let’s do this. It’s gonna be the Best Weekend Ever. Join us?
Thanks for reading.
Jason
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Delightful story! Wish I could be there!