Highway to hell

Between booking shows, getting to locations, and working during the day, our scheduling/planning ability occasionally suffers.

The show in Boise fell in the middle of a week that amounted to an intracontinental endurance race. Returning from Alaska, we had five days to do standup in  three states while covering 1,500 miles. We went from Washington to Montana, then Montana to Idaho, and finally blasted through Wyoming and most of South Dakota.

The drive was full of empty highway that stretched beyond eternity. No matter how long we drove, it felt like we hadn’t moved -- it was like being in purgatory. The only breaks came when construction workers closed lanes for miles at a stretch to fix two-inch long potholes.

Bread heads

We couldn’t drive all the time. At least half of every day is spent working remotely. We’d love to say “Comedy covers all the bills!” but we’re not there yet. We use Panera Bread's WiFi to work from our laptops, and spending several hours a day in Panera is beginning to chip away at our sanity. It’s gotten so bad that our schedules run solely off Panera’s music playlist.

When we hear ‘Rocketman’ our first thought is “Fuck! We’re late for the mic!”. When friends ask for our availability, we respond “We can meet before ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’(4 p.m.) or after ‘Change The World’” (6 p.m.). Heaven forbid they want to meet during the cover of Lourde’s ‘Royals’ (8 a.m., 9:15 a.m., 10 a.m. 10:30 a.m., 11:45 a.m., 12:10 p.m. 3:05 p.m., 5:00 p.m.)

Sometimes one of us will hum a song from the Panera soundtrack in the van just to see how long the other can stand it.

The good news is we feel incredibly sexy in there. The average age in Panera is 173. The ladies in that joint haven’t been hit since Pearl Harbor, so when we strut into the building sans-cane and with all our own chompers, they go wild.

B-Town

We’ll be honest with you guys - we were in Boise for probably three hours total. With our nutzoid schedule, we had no time to hang out and get to know the place. BUT, from our short time there, we thought it was awesome. Boise actually felt like a bigger Missoula. It was quaint, laid back, and had a surprising number of events going on.

One major thing that struck us was everyone being beautiful. Everyone walking the streets, sitting in cafes, and chatting on corners was hot.  It’s probably a good thing we didn’t experience more of Boise - if we had, we’d blather on about it and spoil your hidden gem of a town.

Setting the mood

Before the comedy show, the DJ was playing some music to get people excited. One of the songs brought Dan back to old times when he’d listen to hot tracks to get ready for jazz band. The song was “In the midnight hour” by Wilson Pickett.

It was one of those songs you find sweet as a child, but questionable as an adult. When you’re young, the lyrics sounded innocent enough. You’d imagine something like the following ...

♪ I'm gonna wait 'till the midnight hour

When there's no one else around ♫

♪ I'm gonna take you, girl, and hold you

And do all the things I told you, in the midnight hour ♫.

As an adult, the lyrics seem downright dark.

♪ I'm gonna wait 'till the midnight hour ♫

♪ When there's no one else around ♫

♪ I'm gonna take you, girl, and hold you

And do all the things I told you, in the midnight hour ♫.

Showtime

The show was at the only comedy club in town, and we were surprised at how many non-comics came out for open mic. We signed up early and went on around 5th or 6th. There were a lot of comics in Boise -- so many signed up for the mic that sets were cut to 3 minutes a piece, which is enough time to do nothing.

We’d usually stay to watch the show and connect with comics afterwards, but we simply didn’t have time. With less than two days to cover 1,200 miles, every second counted. The next leg of our trip (Boise to South Dakota) was 19 hours and we had to get a jump on it.

After saying a few goodbye’s we hopped in the van and headed due West for Sioux Falls.