Before I recount the tale of my epic Vegas journey, will first thank those who made it possible for me to go…
Cassie Cummings, you awesome artist for hire.
Alle Parmenter, for being there as always.
My man, Mark Hammond for being a true homie and supporting the cause.
Frank Weller, my partner in crime at Rusty Alien Guitars!
Leland Fallon, who I’ve been friends with for at least a decade.
Paul Levesque, the baddest bassist this side of the Pecos.
Jesse Nelson, a true believer and supporter of the scene.
James Rivas, who knows what it’s like to need to play.
Chad Gervasio, the man with cars who spits bars.
Matt Bucko, my gardening bro.
Steven Lendrum, the drum head shredder.
Ben Thrasher, for helping out.
The Higs, the homie from WAY back in the day.
Fidi V, for falling for the clickbait.
Kristen Taylor, for recording some dope tracks for LSG and having my back.
Kristen DuPont, my sober buddy.
Anthony Maffei, da Maff, nuff said.
Eastside Swingin’ Fredduh, for having my back since birth.
Michelle Pastor, for always supporting the scene.
Greg Parsons, my brother in challenging the status quo.
I arrived at LAS at about 11:30 AM. Marty arrived in the back seat of his vehicle with Pauly driving and Steve-O from Boston riding shotty. My ride and it’s inhabitants were feeling the fumes of the night before. Paul parked the vehicle and (edit) proceeded to disembark, segue to the parking railing and vomit on his flip flops. He then looked at me smiled and said, “welcome to Vegas, Bill”. As we were walking to the boys’ hotel room, I was informed that six people were shot the night before near my hotel. It turned out to only be four, much better. It was gunna be that type of party.
I couldn’t check into my hotel until 3PM, fucking Vegas, so Sal and Steve let us chill in their room for a bit. We headed down to the Golden Nugget pool to check out the party. There were punks everywhere. We chilled with the Pinks and Felony cats. I shot the shit with Felony Ron and Ken from Hardline. Ron took his signature shot:
After about two hours in the sun, and no sleep the night before I bounced to check into my hotel. I napped a good two hours then was awakened by a text from Marty, “can you drive stick”? I immediately called him up and asked why, I thought he was fucked up and needed me to drive. He was g2g but was planning on tipping a few tonight. I informed Marty that I indeed can drive a standard. I then found out they had already loaded gear and were heading to the venue. It was only 6PM and line-check wasn’t until 9PM. I figured, fuck it, and grabbed my guit and walked my ass over there. When I was leaving the hotel, still in a daze, I saw an old, familiar van and my boy Saddy from the Zero Crew. See, Authority Zero is my old band and I was confused af. I had a guit and saw the van and wasn’t sure for a moment if I were supposed to line check with my old band or walk my happy ass over to Backstage Bar. Total time warp. I gave Saddy a hug and bounced.
When I met up with Paul and Marty, they explained to me they wanted to check out the main fest at Punk Rock Bowling. Everything now started making sense as I continued to fully wake. I grabbed a bite to eat from my homie Flip’s food truck Frites Street, shot the shit with the Felony crew, caught up with my boys Mark and Jake, and caught some acts.
Around 7PM, Marty, Paul and I headed back to the venue for setup and line-check. It was time to get this shindig cracking. I hadn’t played on stage in two years since the last time I filled in for J.D. but was confident in my abilities, having practiced the shit out of the LightSpeedGo set
We were all set up and ready to go. I just soaked in the old sights, sounds, smells and vibes of being on the road. Wacky ass people everywhere, drunk and/or spun on sumpin. I was starting to get tired so I walked my ass all the way to Starbucks only to find there was a line out the damn door. Here’s me trying to get my ass to the gig on time.
Video of LightSpeedGo from the TBR club show! #prb2016 #punkrock #lastflight #felonyrecords
Posted by Michael Brockman on Tuesday, May 31, 2016
It was about 3:30 AM when all had ended. The majority of the crew was wasted and incommunicado. Brian Turtle helped Marty and I pack up the merch., then we packed up the gear and bounced back to the Nugget to drop everything of at the boys’ hotel room. There were squads everwhere, due to the previous evenings’ shootings and a shit ton of gutterpunx.
After, lugging all the shit to the Nugget, I headed back to my hotel room. It was about 4AM. I took a quick shower and crashed. I set my alarm for 9AM and slept right through it. My father rang me and told me to get my ass up and get to the airport, I complied.
Back in Arizona, I reflected on the trip. Did I miss this life? Hell no!! But I sure do love tasting it again here and there. That shit is a young man’s sport. You thought it was over? Newp. Paul and Marty stayed with the Massholes for another day.We’re not sure what drugs this cat is on.
We’re not sure but it may be the fella that was about to jump into the pool from a bit higher about 45 minutes later. Don’t worry, he didn’t do it. I gotta say, I love you Vegas, but you’re a true shithole.