I don’t anticipate writing anything remotely funny in this entry so you may just want to bail out now. Basically, I’m checking in with all three of you to let you know what we’ve been up to. I know it’s hard to sleep at night otherwise. Currently, I’m sitting shotgun whilst Goosemankillz69 hurls the van and trailer at an obscene speed towards Denver, Colorado. Usually Goose and I are on the same page as far as music is concerned even though he’s about 22 years my junior but right know he’s listening to some pop punk that would make his two year old sister blush.

A couple of nights ago in Cinci-naughty PBC played their last show with Have Heart and Trapped Under Ice. While we only hung out with those dudes for about a week they certainly will be missed. Jimmy brought this up the other day and it bears repeating. When a couple of bands get together without knowing each other previously, it usually takes about a week to really feel comfortable and well, make a lot of dick jokes. By the time we reached that level with our homeboys, it was time to part ways. Why do they always leave? The women and the boys! It’s because my ass is getting fat, isn’t it?

I didn’t drink too much on this tour since the other two bands are straight edge. Not that they would ever care about that type of thing. It’s just beer wasn’t readily available backstage. There were vegetables, humus, and something called fruit which I can only imagine is worse for you than cigarettes and binge drinking. The positive side of being sober was that I actually remembered most of the shows. You all know I don’t really like to talk about shows or PBC because this blog right here is mostly about my self hate but I’ll try and give a quick recap. Um, well. I believe I talked about the Albany show in my last post and how kids went pretty crazy and I decided to retire from moshing before actually ever moshing. From there was the Montreal show, I think. Getting into Canada wasn’t a problem which is always a relief. Luckily, Canadian officials aren’t yet aware of my plan to kidnap most, if not all, of their beautiful women. This show doesn’t really stick out because I remember the crowd being mostly apathetic to every band that played. What I do remember is the three flights of stairs we had to climb in order to load in and out. This was the first time I actually prayed for death while tasting vomit at the back of my throat. Well, the first time since college.

Toronto was the next day I and this show was a blast. Nearly 500 kids turned out to see me get pretty blackout drunk for the first time on the tour. Wait, maybe all those kids came to see Have Heart, PBC, and Trapped, I’m still trying to confirm. Fuck, I lied before. I don’t remember any of the other shows either due to booze, old age, Alzheimer’s. Possibly all three. What I can tell you is that the show in Indianapolis was pretty fun because we actually played that same venue earlier in the year. For that show, about five kids actually turned out. This time around there was over 200. Keep paying our bills, Have Heart! Cinci-nasty comes to mind mostly because the stage was actually a wrestling ring. The ropes weren’t up but you get the idea. Also, the ratio of tattooed face individuals to non faced tattooed individuals was shockingly high. I’m not judging, fuck, I have a tattoo of a flame on my body. A green flame. Ask any of my friends, they make fun of me on the daily. Thanks for that idea, Sarah!

So I’m here at the Denver show now behind the merch table ignoring potential customers in order to watch Scrubs and sneak in some highly offensive pornography for free. That’s just how I roll. Our good friends in Broadway Calls stopped by since they’re recording their new album at the Blasting Room. Ty from Broadway was nice enough to play some of their new record for me. One song actually contains a line I wrote on this very blog, so keep an eye for it in Sepetmber. If you don’t like Broadway Calls you don’t like catchy rock music and you might hate minorities. There’s a correlation there but I’m too tired to find it.

Last night, we were in Lawrence, Kansas which brought out about 20 kids. Yeah, a bit of a bummer but the beer was free and so was I. And after the show tonight, we begin our drive to Salt Lake City. Apparently, there is a snow storm moving in and the stretch of road we’ll be traveling on is quite treacherous. So if some Cliff Burton type shit happens tonight, please, someone, pay off my student loan debt so my parents don’t have to. Also, tell Polar Bear Club I like the EP better than the full length. So, a couple more days and we arrive in Seattle where PBC start to record their new record for Bridge 9. I’m hanging out for a week and then flying back home to my futon and the crippling depression that only Rochester can bring me. Someone, talk some sense in to me and get me to grad school.

P.S. Do me a favor and check out Triple B Records, thanks!

Sweet Jesus

Yo, this following blog was written two nights ago and is not current! Side note, Chris Browne had his duffel bag stolen at the Montreal show! Either that or he smoked it! Speaking of smoking, I didn't write this blog sober.


Hey, kids, how have you been? Listen, I know it's been awhile and I'm sorry. Baby, I'm done with all the boozing and whoring. I'm ready to make a go of this. Wait, fuck that. You see, I love you, I'm just not in love with you.

Eh, but seriously, I haven't had anything new to write about. I mean, how many more times can i tell you how wasted I got last night before i start sounding like a brain dead frat bro? Well, Let's say it one more time - kids, daddy time traveled last night. That's how sloppy yours truly got. I traveled through time. Thanks again, Albany!

So we're on tour right now with Trapped Under Ice and some popular rock n' roll act called have Heart. Maybe you've heard of them? I'm told their lead singer Pat Flynn is a Boston Red Sox fan. As a New York Met's guy, I soon hope to discuss the 1986 World Series. We'll see.

Shows are averaging about 250 people a night and most kids are even staying awake for PBC between Trapped Under Ice and Have Heart. Touring with bands you've never met before is always awkward at first because you're not sure if bands will have anything in common. Like Have Heart and Trapped Under Ice, PBC are all straight edge so at least we have that (the joke being PBC is not edge! Ah, the hilarity!). Oh! Weight lifting! Both us and Trapped share the love of power squats and chest presses. Seriously though, Trapped Under Ice look like they've been in a maximum security prison for the last 5 - 10 years where their only options were to lift heavy shit and crack skulls. While they're all great guys, they physically intimidate me and make me want to sit down while I pee.

Out of the three shows so far, Albany has been my favorite. Not only was the PBC crowd reaction the best yet, like I mentioned before I was pretty torn up. Who do you turn to when you can't enjoy anything while sober? God or Aslan. There was another epiphany I had at the Albany show - this whole Pit Boss/Pit Master title I bestowed upon myself in the last entry is a complete sham. Instead of moshing and policing the pit, I choose to either go outside and smoke or hover around the circle acting about as hard as John Waters. In actuality, the true mosh master is actually Steve Baby aka Baby Steve aka Da Professa aka Treacherous MC aka Big Baby Jesus, lead singer of Forfeit. Pretty sure I spotted Steve Baby windmilling in the backstage area practicing his mosh finishing moves. If moshing were promiscuous sex, Steve Baby would be HIV +.

I consider myself pretty lucky to be able to catch Have Heart every night for the next couple of days. I've been dead inside for the last six years but when I watch these guys I actually get goose bumps. It's the energy of Pat and the sincerity he seems to exude when it comes to his convictions which by the sound it appear to be X rated movies (XXX) and some dude named Boston.

Go Mets.

Here We Are

I didn't proof read this entry....deal with it and love me for who I am - a drunk with slight brain damage.

Well, I think today is now the second day back in the United States and I'm just now caught up on sleep. On March 10th we started our quest back home around 8:30am London time. Our plane landed in New York City 7pm east coast time. That was more than enough traveling for me but we still had to go out to Long Island to pick up our cars and then head out for home in Rochester/Syracuse, New York. However, before we did any of that it was absolutely necessary that we find a Taco Bell. It had just been way too long! The closest Taco Bell eatery apparently was in a very seedy part of New Jersey. Not too sure of the exact city but stepping out of the car I immediately felt like I was now in Hamsterdam. After being asked for change by three different individuals, eye fucked, and made to feel like I was whiter than Chris Browne, I finally felt like I was home. There's nothing like a threat against your life to really bring you back down to earth.

Twenty three hours of travel time later, I was finally home. The futon was ready and the shower was empty. I figured I hadn't showered in five days, why start now? Hell, that could wait another day. So here I am now, finally clean, and reflecting back on the whole trip. Financially, we're all fucked. Obviously, there are bills to pay and those come first. PBC was able to pay off some debt owed to Bridge 9 but each of us were unable to walk away with even a little money to pay a bill or two. It's not a big deal because none of us are in this to pocket cash. However, it would have been rad to make a monthly payment on one of my four credit cards.

So...was it worth it? Absolutely. For me, this is the only chance I would ever have to go overseas. I've always been poor and will always be poor. So, thanks for PBC for dragging me along with them. And they better fucking drag me along again when they go back at the end of May (dates apparently are up at the Positive Nuisance myspace, oh boy!) . Polar Bear Club was able to perform in front of huge crowds with The Gaslight Anthem and smaller, more intense crowds on their headline dates. All of us met a lot of great people who often went out of their way to help us. I'm terrible with names but thank you especially to Chrissie from Positive Nuisance for booking such great headline dates, Tom for being awesome in general and helping out with merch, Saker for hospitality and talking hardcore with Goose, Stanley for being the best and sometimes grumpiest driver of all time....eh, and everyone else! Listen, you all know I drink too much so I can't remember everyone! Please know you were my first.

Getting back to The Gaslight Anthem for a bit, while everyone in the band are wonderful dudes, the crew they take out with them are even sweeter! Hopefully, we'll all run into each other again soon. In the meantime, check out Gunner Records. Gunnar drove and sold merch for Gaslight and hopefully will be putting out PBC's ep on vinyl in Germany. Gunnar and I spent a lot of nights behind the merch table making fun of Frank Turner, people in the crowd, and drinking beers.

So here I am now, sitting on the couch, 12 pounds overweight (who knew drinking and overeating everyday for a month would have a negative effect on and old man) , and watching The Devil Wears Prada just like any straight male would. I'm already bored to tears and I'm ready to get the fuck out of here. I haven't had a drink or cigarette in a couple days and yet I feel fine. I felt it was a good time to detox to gear up for the Have Heart dates. I figure it will be disrespectful to mosh hard during their set whilst drunk. In case you didn't know, on the Have Heart/Trapped Under Ice dates I've designated myself pit boss aka the master of the pit. That means I'll be policing the pit, windmilling, and moshing harder than kids half my age. Hopefully, I'll be doing all of this with my Trapped Under Ice Stay Cold football jersey. Ah, the possibilities.

Edit: Dammit, I forgot to express my love for Frank Turner. I love him. He's like my younger, drunk off one beer, more talented, skinnier, smarter, uptight brother! I've also nicknamed him The Gay Lion. Why? Well, he looks like a gay lion. Swoon.

So, here's to getting out of my hometown in a couple days. And here's to the cable tv my parent's recently subscribed to. Lastly, here's to Anne Hathaway for being my latest celebrity obsession. Now on with the weekly list of favorite PBC members -

1. Goose - We both loves Scrubs, he hugged me before we departed, and his girlfriend loves Buffy The Vampire Slayer. He's Turk and I'm J.D. Minus the hair.

2. Nate - I don't know. Not really sure what more I can muster up about Nate. He's like a Volvo. Boxy and reliable. Wish he didn't shave that moustache. He looked like the perfect pornstar with a drinking problem with that thing.

3. Emmett - Emmett didn't buy me Taco Bell but he bought almost everyone else Taco Bell when we stopped in New Jersey. Basically, he left me and Browne to fend for ourselves in the inner city. It was like that movie Judgement Night without the rap/rock sound track.

4. Chris Browne - In a shocking turn of events, Chris Browne has climbed out of the basement. Anytime I need any information on past or present PBC dates, I ask Chris Browne. He knows all sorts of little details about everything. He's like Dustin Hoffman's character in Rain Man with a guitar. I think that's a compliment.

5. Jimmy - I'm a jealous, angry, resentful person. This is one of the reasons I don't have sex. It's also the reason Jimmy is last today. Basically, Jimmy wrote a guest blog and received more comments on his entry than I've ever had. I don't know who I hate more right now - you people or him.

Jimmy's Guest Blog

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO INTERNET! You're looking dapper today, or is that just my reflection in Trevor's laptop monitor? ZINGO ZANGO, BINGO BANGO! (that's what I say when I make a good joke. Ask anyone in PBC, I always say that).So here it is world, Jimmy's guest blog, LET THE HITS FLY IN. PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW! You might be asking yourself what it is I have to blog about,well I'll tell you. My fucking bullshit placement on Trevor's bullshit list. NUMBER FUCKING THREE EVERYTIME! For the record, after every list posting Trevor does, he pulls me aside and tells me I am his true number one. He also promises me acting work and cocaine, you can guess what happens next. Anyway, I have a theory about THE LIST and here it is.
I may be number three on every list posting but that just proves my point exactly. I am ALWAYS number three while everyone else fluctuates between one and five. Nate Morris goes from one to five as soon as the sun sets, this is also the witching hour of his alter ego "Creeper Nate" or "Hate Morris" This is a very dark time for everyone in PBC. Goose is the ultimate list swimmer. He is consistently never and always letting everyone down. Wrap your head around that. Menke meanders between three and four depending on his facial hair and foot odor and Browne...well....
Anyway, my point is this. I am the only member of PBC who stays the same. I'M STAYING THE COURSE and hence am the only one in PBC that Trevor can trust at any given moment. It's simple really. I am the anchor in Trevor's life, the one true constant,maybe even more important to him than his own mother(love you suze, call me) and thus I am always his number one, regardless of what this internet machine tells you. You all out there in internet world should make your own lists of your favorite pbc members post them in the comments section. Please keep in mind that no one reads those things but me so be as harsh and honest as you want. I have to go play a show now. Check ya later world. VOTE JIMMY

Cardiff

So starts our last couple dates of our European tour. We're no longer hanging out with The Gaslight Anthem and Frank Turner. Polar Bear Club has trimmed the fat and finishes up with some UK headline dates. In fact, right now, I'm sitting behind the merch table for our first main act show in Cardiff. What I'm saying is this, ladies, the chance to have sex with a stranger old enough to be your father is diminishing. Get on it.

Polar Bear Club is playing smaller clubs without barriers and the weight of making The Gaslight Anthem look silly onstage. Ah, jokes. We're having fun, yes? I think we all feel more at home in this type of setting. These venues hold about 150 - 200 kids as opposed to the 500-600 sized arenas PBC played the last couple of weeks. Hopefully, the energy for PBC will be more intense. Afterall, the previous shows, kids showed up primarliy to see Frank and Gaslight. This time round, in theory, kids are here to see Party Bear Club. If not, well, I'm still getting drunk, what the fuck do I care?

Well, PBC is about the start. In the meantime, yo girl in the heels, turn around, I want to marry you.

Send Self Control

Hey, friends. Tonight is a special night I suppose. Polar Bear Club was scheduled to have an off day in order to recover from each other, lack of sleep, me, and general malaise. Two days ago, PBC and Frank Turner were offered a show anyway in Trier, Germany. The Gaslight Anthem couldn’t do it because they’re off filming some tv show in hopes of conquering the music world with their message of world peace, Cadillac cars, blue jeans, and white t shirts. So instead of finding a cheap hotel where we would have spent the day and night secretly sneaking off to the bathroom to touch ourselves in the worst of places, PBC and Francis Turner opted to play an off day show with only a couple of days notice. Why? Because we’re punk as fuck. Nope, that’s a lie, Jimmy uses hair product.

So here I am now lording over the merch table with a drunken eye whilst PBC plays in front of about twenty people. No, not a huge turnout but the venue we’re in is pretty wild and the promoter Robert is treating us extremely well. For instance, the man went out of his way to not only set up the show but he also fed us, got me drunk, will be giving us a place to crash, and hopefully won’t notice the garbage can that I’ll eventually throw up in. I’m told where we’re at used to be a monastery. There is a large court yard that has sweet looking graffiti on most of the walls and in another part of the building there is a basketball hoop. For the first time since the late 90’s I picked up the ball and shot around for a bit with Goose, Emmett and Chris Browne. Goose shoots like he’s slapping away fruits and vegetables, Emmett has pretty good form, and Browne shoots under handed. I don’t get it either. I took a couple pictures of the building as well as the graffiti and I hope to upload them soon. I also hope to sleep with an attractive woman again someday but I don’t see either ever happening so stew on that.

Sunday March 1st, Croningen
So I thought I would have more to write about our night in Trier but it turns out I didn’t. Who knew that I could only make fun of myself and the Polar Bears for so long? It’s around noon and I find myself on a stranger’s couch in Croningen, Holland. I do not know our host but I’m pretty sure while we were sleeping he came in and took pictures of us. I can neither can confirm nor deny this because I had a bit of the devil’s brew in me. Nate is laid out to the right of me snoring away and our driver Stan is on the floor at my feet. I’m extremely hung over, again, and I want to kick Nate in the stomach for snoring so god damned loud. I wasn’t able to actually see any of last night’s show in Cronigen because I was watching merch all night and the table was all the way on the other side of the venue. A large piece of me is dead inside because I was un able to take a walk through the red light district that apparently was dangerously close to the venue PBC played at. Yes, there is always Amsterdam tonight but I don’t think anyone in Polar Bear Club wishes to take a walk on the wild, dark side with me. Why? Because they all seem to have morals and integrity. Well, except for Frank.

Including tonight, we only have three more shows with Frank Turner and The Gaslight Anthem. When this part concludes, we finish up in the UK for some smaller headline shows. In ten days or so I’ll be back home laying out on the ol’ futon. Part of me is ready to go home today. I’m exhausted, smelly, dirty, and I’ve overindulged a bit too much this tour. Not only with food but with booze. Heading out with a band as big as The Gaslight Anthem means that there is always all kinds of drinks backstage. I lack the capacity to say no to anyone or anything and have the will power of an….alcoholic? Hell, I just might be one. When I’m home, I’ll have a job to go back to (unless anyone from my work reads this) and structure. As you all know, I’ll also have the parents to answer to. Hopefully, this means I can get my act together, you know, for those nine days before we head back out again. Pray for mojo.

“Trevor Backer is a grown up child” – Brian Fallon