The Bobby Rock Newsletter #111 (6-4-24) - Crankin' it Back Up Again
The Bobby Rock Newsletter #111 (6-4-24) - Crankin' it Back Up Again
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Hey Gang -
It's been a minute since our last issue. Thank you for your patience, and for being here with me on this rainy Saturday morning in Iowa. Apparently, the smell of feral cat piss has reinvigorated me! (Will explain in a minute.) Let's get into it... In This Issue:
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Crankin' It Back Up Again At the time I hit the publish button on our last issue, I did not see this hiatus coming. But with all of my writing energy soon going in a different direction, a few week's delay became a few month's break.  Hotel room shot That is, until I woke up this morning, on June 1st, in Dubuque-motherfuckin'-Iowa! Not sure of the significance, besides: this is our first show back after a brief hiatus of our own; it's the first day, of the first month, of an incredibly busy summer ahead; and, at 6:00 AM, I was suddenly overtaken by the nostalgia of so many Newsletters written under similar circumstances—another city, another hotel room, another Lita Ford show day, and the jamming bustle of a life that I continue to NOT take for granted. And I guess this Newsletter—this communication I have with you all, my beloved Newsletter audience—is an exchange I cherish. For real. It's a sort of repository (Hey, hey… an Alex Haley word!) of thoughts, experiences, reflections, philosophies, and photographic evidence of the journey. I mean, I guess that's what a journal is supposed to be, and I'm usually pretty diligent about keeping up with mine. But if journaling is like playing drums in the practice room, this Newsletter is like playing live for an audience. It's a different level of intention and creativity: two words I live by. About the Cat Piss... Friends, I dig this little town of Dubugue for all of it's history and Americana-coolness. At the same time, it literally smells like a feral cat colony around here. It's unbelievable. Cat piss! Pervasive! In the air, everywhere... even in the hotel room. I'm not exaggerating. I know I've played here through the years, but this, I don't remember. Someone in our camp asked the girl at the front desk about it and she said it had something to do with a local (sewage?) plant of some sort. Could you imagine living here? I would be pissed. (Sorry... bad pun.) But, of course, as many of you know, I'm a sentimental guy, and my connection to feral cats has linked that distinct smell to something in my brain: big love, I suppose you could say. Some of my best friends have been feral cats. And when you deal with ferals, either in the care and feeding of a colony, or in the arduous TNR (trap, neuter, return) protocols of attempting to regulate population, there will be piss! And for all of its toil, and the relentless struggle I associate with the time in my life when I was most connected to my feral friends and family, I feel alive. And strangely, this has, at least in part, prompted a continuation of one special documentation of life: This Newsletter. Thanks again for reading. _______________
A Short Preview from my Upcoming Book (working title): Will Drum For Food As a follow-up to my last memoir, The Boy Is Gonna Rock, this next one picks up on a high note in the early 90s: in the studio and on the road with Nelson, a band that would enjoy a brief but fiery run on top of the charts and throughout the world media. But then, several chapters in, the culture changes, and I phase into my full-time pursuits of being a drumming solo artist and clinician, and we dip down into one hell of a roller coaster ride, starting with a decade's worth of the most grueling touring and financial logistics imaginable. I'm still figuring out how far to extend the story arc beyond the 2000 mark. But either way, there is actually a lot of heavy shit in this book. I go deep into some personal tragedies and other rough patches that I've never fully discussed publicly. Why include this stuff? Because I believe it's what the idiom of good memoir writing demands: gut-wrenching transparency. I say, if you don't want to go there, write about something else. But if there is truly a story that must be told, tell it as fearlessly as you can. And so goes my attempts. Here's a brief, unedited snapshot from one especially “rough patch” along the way: Of Rats and Cats As we rolled a bit deeper into 2008 and that Pearcy tour never materialized, an uncommon hopelessness settled over me. Work was intermittent, with a session here or a live show there, but there wasn't really enough cash coming in to cobble together a consistent livelihood. I was still living in my practice room at the time, so the monthly nut was far from outlandish. And yet, I soon found myself back in hardcore survival mode. At one point, I noticed there were a lot of soda cans around the rehearsal rooms where I lived. Monster Energy had a few promo refrigerators around the facility, stocked with their drinks. Between all of these freebies, plus the regular hallway Coke machines, I figured I could discreetly collect cans out of the trash late at night, and then sell them to a local recycling center. That would have to at least be decent food and gas cash, right? I located a place nearby in Burbank, then each evening when the coast was clear, I would rummage through the trash cans and dumpsters in search of aluminum. (Obviously, I didn't want any of my peers to catch me in the act: it's not exactly a good look when you're in the market for a gig.) To be sure, this was some gnarly fucking work, mainly because of all the incidental "debris" you were bound to encounter along the way. One of my most memorable encounters happened late one night, about three days in. I was perched atop a dumpster out in the back lot, attempting to access a smaller sealed trash bag that looked like it had a few cans in it. As I tore that bitch open and reached in for a green Monster can, my hand brushed up against what I thought was a cheap old black and white, faux-fur pocketbook of some kind. But as I pulled out the can and the "purse" shifted a bit, I saw four stiff paws and the crushed head of a rat, with a bloated belly and a thick red line of blood still caked around his neck. This fucker was huge! Must've gotten caught in a trap. A burst of that creepy-crawler adrenaline surged through my torso, and I instinctively catapulted myself backwards off the dumpster, dropping that Monster can to the concrete with a clang. "Holy shit!" I yelled out. And with that, a few of my ferals—who had been watching me with cautious curiosity—tore off like cheetahs to the dark side of the lot before I could offer up any reassurances or apologies. I guess we were all a little jumpy that night. At week's end, after amassing two large Hefty bags full of cans, I placed my bounty in the back of the Prius and headed to the plant for the big collection. Good God. I don't know what was more depressing: how little cash I actually got for all that work... or how much so little cash actually meant to me in that moment. Either way, it was not a great day for the mindset—and that would be the end of that little side hustle. _______________ On the Road (Now it's Sunday...) So the hit last night was a blast. We had Warrant and Firehouse on the bill with us and all was rockin'. We were a little concerned about all the rain yesterday, since it was an outdoor show. And even at soundcheck, it was still drizzling. Fortunately, though, the rain cleared up by downbeat and we actually had a nice evening of arena rock. Here's a soundcheck and showtime shot, drummer's perspective:  One from behind the scenes during the hit...  My compadres in crime—Patrick, Lita, and Marten. (Photo credit: Tommy Ogle)  Which leads us to... + + + + +
I have a bunch of shows coming up with Lita Ford and co, plus a very special bucket-list adventure. Stay tuned, gang—I'm sure we will be covering quite a bit of the following in upcoming issues: Jun 7 - Grantville, PA Penn National Race Course
Jun 8 - Leesburg, VA Tally Ho Theater
Jun 9 - Warrendale , PA Jergel's Rhythm Grille
Jun 12 - Karlstad, MN Kick'n Up Kountry Music Festival
Jun 14 - St. Charles, IL Arcada Theatre
June 15 - Sylvania, OH Centennial Terrace
Jun 21 - Tucson , AZ Fox Tucson Theatre
Jun 22 - Las Vegas , NV Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino
Late June/Early July - Personal trip with my girl: Africa! July 5 - Golden,CO Buffalo Rose
July 6 - Saratoga, WY Saratoga Days
July 13 - Grand Ronde, OR Spirit Mountain Casino
July 15 - Fort Wayne, IN Three Rivers Festival
July 19 - Timmins, ON Rock On The River Festival
(Bret Michaels' Parti Gras)
July 26 - Mashantucket, CT Foxwoods Resort Casino
July 27- Salamanca, NY Seneca Allegany Resort & Casino
_______________ To sign up for this Newsletter and/or to scope back issues, click HERE. _______________ Thanks again, everybody. Connect soon!
Until then, BR
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