Burlington, VT – “Free Show” – The Metronome – August 3, 2002

“You got any more of that zit cream Sal?”

“Sure do Soucy,” I say handing over a tube of Clearasil. Mount Ve’Soucy’ous (the nickname he’s given his prodigious nose pimple) is nearly gone today. Still, the humidity and air travel have left us both covered in all sorts of unseemly spots and blemishes. We take turns dabbing coin-sized dots on our faces with the white tingling medicine.

Post pimple tending, we brush our teeth. The lights are halogen turquoise in the bathroom of room #212. In the mirror, our eyes look shallow, outlined in dark permanent dark circles that make us appear villainous.

“Funny, I don’t feel as bad as I look,” I say as Soucy spits a mouthful of frothy paste into the sink. He chuckles and comments on his Kermit-y tinted skin. No matter how hard we brush our teeth, they remain stained in this mirror.

When our bedtime ablutions are complete, Soucy disappears down the hall for a moment of male bonding in room #314 before succumbing to my essential oil infused feminine world for the night. When he returns, I’m in the middle of changing and shouting, “Wait a minute!!!” and he’s ducking his eyes behind a free hand apologizing. This happens a lot, as you might expect. Never has there been so much accidental viewing of nudity between two people who want to see each other naked less.

We watch CNN and argue like an old married couple, about the volume.  After a childhood spent in front of stage monitors, I’m about as deaf as they come.  Also, frankly, I’m keen on watching TV with earplugs in so if I fall asleep, I won’t be awoken by neighboring rooms with noisy couples, late check-ins, or maids in the morning. But Soucy is sensitive to loud noises (excluding guitar amps of course and drums and bass amps for that matter) and likes his TV at night at a “gentile” volume— a volume, which to me, feels like watching TV from across the street at the next-door neighbor’s house. Eventually I compromise, and take out my earplugs.

Tonight we played The Metronom. It was a much better show than last time we were through Vermont when only 11 people showed up (including us). Tonight we were advertised as a free show, which might explain our beefed up attendance but also the casualness with which people circulated through the venue. 

Burlington, Vermont, a quintessential college town, brought out a melange of people. Students from the nearby campus arrived in clusters. Locals who looked more like usual Metronome patrons mingled with the college crowd, adding a crustier, crunchier balance to the youthful buzz.  People weren’t afraid to come and go throughout the show, especially with the free entry. Instead of it being disheartening, it added a strangely cool element, as if we were the soundtrack to their night out on Church Street. Some folks waded close to the stage, swaying, nodding, occasionally shouting out a random request or cheering after a solo. Others hung closer to the bar in small groups, chatting.

 While the gig wasn’t anything to write home about, there was one moment of particular delight. During “For Kim,” an enthusiastic young guy took advantage of a mostly empty dance floor to haul out some impressive breakdancing moves.  I was especially shocked by the height he got on his Worm.

It felt refreshing to play for a crowd with such an organic, come-as-you-are spirit. Whether they were there to catch the whole show or just stumbled in from the warm Vermont night for a few songs, it reminded me of why I love what we do.

With CNN at a “reasonable” volume, Soucy and I fall asleep to the lullaby-like (note my sarcasm here) news of our country’s proposed invasion of Iraq. G’Night.