Day 47: Shamrock’s
I’m not a believer in luck, but there have been two clubs named Shamrock this tour, and both have been amazing.
In my travels across the country Nebraska has always been my bane. There are vast flat stretches, miles long of absolutely nothing to look at but corn dancing in the breeze. If it’s before the harvest, that is. Otherwise, it’s just miles of brown furrowed fields, their monotony broken up by the occasional overpass. (Arguably, the corn being cut down opens up the view a bit, but even then there’s not much to see.)
To me, Omaha has always represented the beginning of that tortuous journey, a kind of Midwest United States ‘Gates of Mordor’. The last bit of civilization before hours of nothingness. Needless to say, I wasn’t terribly excited to be going there.
We decided to forgo our daily Planet Fitness stop and head straight over to one of Root’s friends house, who had showers and a place for us to work.
While we were there, what we thought was just a cloudburst worsened, developing in to near twister conditions. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was over and sunny again. Toto was safe.
We headed over to the club about 7, loaded in, and got some food. Almost immediately, the bartender began to change my preconceived notion of Omaha. Sarcastically snarky, she made us instantly feel like regulars, comfortable in our environment.
We had Shamrock’s booked for last March’s tour, but some routing issues caused us to have to postpone it until this one. The club owner, Nate, had become a fan of the band after hearing the music on the initial March booking, and told us that his one year old even recognizes Man on Earth songs, which gave the guys the warm fuzzies.
For some reason, that night the guys seemed to have some of the most fun I’ve ever seen them have on stage. The energy was super high, and it sustained throughout the set, and the crowd fed off it for sure. At one point Stevie shot water at Mochello, sparking what I’m sure will be an ongoing battle. I can’t wait to see who buys a Super Soaker first.
Root’s friend Purdy and his band finished off the night, and seeing as we had a relatively short drive and a late load in the next day, we weren’t in a huge rush to leave.
Having time to hang out a bit after a show is often a rarity for us, we usually have to pack up and bounce out right after the last band to put miles behind us so that the next day isn’t an overwhelming journey. And most of the time we’re itching to get on the road so we can get to sleep. Having the relaxing afternoon at Purdy’s house was a big help in that department, we all had time to recharge a bit so that no one was too tired too early.
When it was time to head out the guys gave the club owner a signed drum head to hang on his ‘Rock Wall’, we took a few pictures, weighed anchor, hoisted the main sails and set off into the night, all my negative feelings toward Omaha being left behind.