The Rev. Checks In - Sex Pistols Diary #2 August 21, 2003 Howdy Cats and Kittens, Today's gig was at Jones Beach, New York. I was told before hand that it was a cool venue. It's on a peninsula next to Jones Beach in Long Island. It looks like a football stadium. There used to be a moat separating the stage from the audience. Thankfully, that is gone now. It looked to me like an old art deco band shell from the '30s that's been updated many times from then until the present. I walked in with my video camera. The Sex Pistols were doing their soundcheck. I was told immediately, "This is a union hall and no cameras are allowed!" O.K. Far be it from me to break union rules. So, I took it back to the bus. I really don't like labor unions. There are some real good people that work with unions, but, it seems to me that it adds a bunch of bureaucracy to something that should be more spiritual. Some union guys treat me like they're the boss, and I work for them. There would be no gig in the first place if I and others like me were not there to draw an audience. But, hey all sorts of non-union people treat me like crap too, until they find out that I'm "The Rev." That is going to be the point of this entry. I had the catered dinner and it was really good. The upside to these union gigs is that everything is done in a very professional manner. When we finally got up to do our soundcheck, there was a guy who kept interrupting to tell me, "You only have seven and a half minutes." "You only have four minutes." "You only have one minute and thirty seconds." Since I have been a professional for many more years than that guy, I finished our soundcheck right on time. As soon as we were done, the guy came up to tell us that time was up and we had to leave the stage immediately. Fine. I went to the dressing room to put on my stage suit. Oh, that suit. When I'm wearing that suit, people treat me very differently. Anyway, we played our set to a mainly light but responsive crowd. I knew that going into this thing that, playing as early as we are, the crowds would be light for our set. However, we do have our fans there and I've been pleasantly surprised at how well the sets have turned out. After our short set, I returned to the dressing room to get back in my street clothes. When I went back out while the Drop-kick Murphys were playing, I was told right off the bat, "Sir, you cannot stand there!" This was right outside of our dressing room! So I moved to another spot only to be told the same thing. The great thing about labor union rules is that, even though they are working for you, they can turn it around to make it seem like you are working for them. I finally found the one spot where I was allowed to stand, so, I stood there -- for a while. Then, I retreated back to my dressing room, found that we were out of beer, talked with a couple of friends and fans for a while then went out again. I was told again where I could stand and where I could not stand. I was in the back of a bunch of people who were standing in one little area that had a very distant and minimal view of the band. By this time, the Sex Pistols were playing. A couple of friends had found some beer. I was still getting the evil eye and I couldn't help but feel like if I were to do anything they didn't like, they would throw me and my beer out of there. There was a beer garden that we tried to go to, but, it was only for 'season ticket holders' who, I'm assuming, did not want to hang out with the 'lowly talent.' Anyway, as the Sex Pistols neared the end of their set, John Lydon walked off for a little break while the band was still playing. He saw me in the back of the backstage crowd. He walked right up to me and said, "You're quite the snappy lad in those suits you wear." Then we chatted for a little bit as the band still played. I thanked him again for the gig. When he walked back on stage, everyone was looking at me with their jaws on the floor. It was great. After all day of people telling me what to do, all of the sudden, I was golden. No one said shit to me for the rest of the night. And it seemed as if the whole back stage got a whole lot more relaxed too. Thanks Johnny Rotten. That one little incident made my tour. I have been treated like the "old dude" since I was twenty-five years old. Setting up P.A. systems and running sound for bands in their early twenties, it did get to me a little bit. Now, it's still kind of the same. People treat me like the old dude with the cowboy hat and nerd glasses who they think must be the bus driver. "There's a guy we can screw with," they must be thinking. The only difference is that now I'm in a successful band and when they find out I'm "The Reverend," they start to treat me a whole lot nicer. By then, it's too late. I have my way of finding out who's real and who's not. The moral here? Be nice to everyone and don't try to throw your power around. The rest of the night was really fun. There are some real deal crew people out here who have worked on tours by 'N Sync, Brittany and everyone huge. Those guys are real nice to us and we traded stories until everyone but the crew guys and us were gone. Thanks to those guys for all their help. Next stop -- Portland, Maine for our own show and then on to another one in Manchester, New Hampshire. The next show with the Sex Pistols is in Toronto in a few days. Thanks for the gig, Jim "Reverend Horton" Heath