The Dixie Chicks just handed me four tickets to give away for tonight's show.


If, by chance, you live in Boston, you don't already have tickets for tonight's show (shame!), and you can be at the arena in 30 minutes, send me an email!


The first two people to write me gets a pair of tix -- and they're great seats!

Update: they're all gone!

I have finally learned the answer to a question I've always wondered about touring bands: what do they do on their day off?

The answer: They go bowling.

The Dixie Chicks, their peeps, the band, the management, the crew, the production staff, the promoters, the accountants, the stylists, the bus drivers, and the man ass all hit the appropriately-named Spare Time Bowling in Albany, New York.

The event came catered with gobs of fried onions, fried cheese triangles, chicken doorstops, and classic alley pizza, which was the perfect spread for a person on the Fatkins Diet or someone needing to gain 50 pounds for their forthcoming role in Raging Bull.

When it came time to play, I tensed up a bit since I have a fear of being the last person chosen when picking teams. This fear originates from middle school when I was always the last person chosen when picking teams.

Fortunately, I didn't have to live out my anxiety nightmare where Martie, the team captain, must choose between the only two remaining bowlers and picks Elroy Von Dooshington, the blind tambourine repairman with degenerative elbow disease and a hook arm, instead of me.

Queenpin Mindi saved me by randomly dividing everyone into teams. I was placed on a great squad with Dave (the band leader), Donny (the drum tech), and Nicole (the production assistant and my "bus mama"). We named our team the Pro-Blowers and brought it in for a team cheer.

The bowling alley's music selection included lots of reactionary country songs, which was some employee's idea of either a tailored soundtrack for us or a sophisticated joke. We also heard the Beastie Boys' "Fight for your Right to Party," which prompted bass player Sebastian to hilariously yell out, "Rick Rubin!" (who produced the Chicks' latest album).

There were clearly experts in the neon disco-lit bowling alley. One look at Emily's tech Jeff and his wife Carol and it was clear they had a closet full of engraved bowling balls customized with the proper radius of gyration for their fingers. Bucky clearly spends as much time practicing his hook as he does tuning the Chicks' instruments.

But nobody looked as professional as Natalie Maines who showed up to the alley sporting a special bowling glove for her right arm. Throughout the night, she demonstrated her formidable two-handed Granny technique that is so dominating that the Professional Bowlers Assocation has tried to ban it.

(Can you believe she approved the photos above? She even told the Albany crowd in last night's show to come look at these pictures.)

I can't insult Natalie's bowling technique, however. For starters, she's been suffering from wrist troubles, which explains why she wears the brace and is bowling with two hands. But most of all, I played a round against her, Emily, and Dean later in the evening, and Natalie beat all our butts. She followed-up one of her strikes with a victory line dance straight out of the "Achy Breaky Heart" video. And who says she ain't country, no more?

Here are some more pics from the evening. Below left is Eva, Martie's adorable daughter, with her "I [Heart] Chicks" shirt and a pink ball that probably weighs more than she does. On the right is Fred, the little drummer boy, displaying the blue balls that helped him achieve the high score of the night: 164.

Above left is my teammate Nicole who brought home a turkey and became the other trophy-winner who scored a 164.

Above right is Larry, the legendary keyboard player, who ended up getting the low score of the night, which was a two digit number that, in miles per hour, would not have exceeded the local speed limit. Needless to say, his fingers belong on the boards and not inside a ball.

My favorite picture of the night, however, comes from the bowling alley's arcade. Nat picked up the rifle on a hunting game and gave me a second to take this photo opportunity.

How smoking is that? This picture is clearly a blue-ribbon winner in my county fair's photography contest, as well as the next centerfold for Guns & Ammo magazine.

Praise the lord and pass the ammunition!

 

Emily admits to being a sucker when she receives any requests for donations in the mail.  She's probably been tagged by every charity as someone whose heartstrings are easily tugged. 

 

To wit, Emily recently donated to an organization called Helping Hands, which trains and provides monkeys to aid quadriplegic persons with severe spinal cord injuries or other mobility impairments who need the assistance. 

 

It wasn't until later that she started to question whether it was a real charity.

 

When she tells us this, every head in the room turns and people take turns making fun of her.  A monkey?!?  Even I shake my head in disbelief.  Everyone assumes Emily has been swindled into helping a phony organization.

 

But when Natalie looks up the organization online, it appears legit and sounds like a great nonprofit!  One of the organization's supporters is David Sedaris, one of my favorite writers.  The website features a gut-busting quote from him about the monkeys: "It makes you want to throw yourself in front of a bus just to get one!"

 

Suddenly, everybody is excited about this charity.  Natalie approves: "Good job, Emmy!"

 

Emily pats herself on the back and says, "I'm going to heaven."

One friend recently asked me if my life is anything like the show Entourage on HBO. The short answer is no. The long answer is noooooooooooooo.

For starters, there are only three -- or, as of the last few episodes, four -- people in Vince Chase's entourage.

If you've been imagining that it's always lil' ol' me alone with Martie, Emily, and Natalie, think again.

The Dixie Chicks can have anywhere from five to fifty people in their entourage. And they acknowledge that it's a monster that is certifiably out of control, but one that they have to keep feeding.

At any given point, there might be multiple managers (including the tour manager, the road manager, and the manager manager), their assistants, their publicists, the glam squad (which ranges from three to seven, depending on how many assistants are needed), security (which ranges from one to infinity), nine people in the band, about twenty people in the crew (including sound engineers, monitor engineers, recording engineers, backline techs, lighting designers, technicians, and their assistants), and a documentary crew that ranges from one to four people.

(By the way, after showing the Chicks this blurb, they're even more embarrassed about it.)

Oh, and I forgot, the Chicks also have husbands, nannies, seven peeps, and, at times, multiple dogs with whom they can hug it out.

And depending on the event, there are record company executives, press, and other random friends.

During one photo shoot, I asked Wally, a photographer for the LA Times, "Have you ever photographed anybody with more handlers?"

He said, without thinking, "Absolutely not."

The posse is so big that Howard Stern said that it's the biggest one he's ever seen. Apparently, we beat Shaquille O'Neal, who must've visited Howard's studio with less than thirty people. Kazaam!

What type of gigs did the Dixie Chicks do before they were famous?

From the beginning, Martie and Emily believed strongly that they should not be in debt. So they took whatever gigs paid the bills. As the Chicks have been performing since 1989 (but didn't score a platinum record until the late 1990s), you can visualize them playing their hearts out through an endless parade of corporate gigs, private parties, and small shows to make ends meet.

After I asked them to share details, they recounted an amusing story from 1998. The Dixie Chicks had just burst out onto the national scene. They attended the Country Music Association Awards Show and, to their surprise, went home with the "Best Vocal Group of the Year" and the "Horizon Award." Suddenly, they were superstars.

Then, the very next night after their huge wins at the CMAs, they performed for some stranger's 40th birthday party -- a gig that had been booked long before they exploded on the national scene. The stage on which they performed was a rickety platform, just two feet high, covered with Astroturf. A humble venue, to say the least.

I didn't ask about their performance fees, but I imagine that I would have been able to book them in early 1998 for my bar mitzvah using my monthly allowance, notwithstanding the fact that my allowance was always stolen by bullies angry with me for pretending Asian Americans celebrate bar mitzvahs.

I asked the Chicks if they thought about canceling or raising their asking price, but they never did. They believed in honoring their commitments and, as a result, some man received the deal of the last millennium and the greatest 40th birthday party ever.

If you, by the way, were that lucky person, please write me. We want pictures!

The Chicks are in the middle of interviewing a woman to do wardrobe during the tour.  (Marjan is the stylist and will choose the clothing, but sadly, won't be going on the road with the Chicks.)

 

Whoever is hired to do wardrobe will help the Chicks put on and take off their outfits each evening.  They need to be ready to resolve any clothing or jewelry-related issues.  Since at least two out of the three have had some nip slips on stage, I imagine this person will need to know how to use double-sided tape.

 

Martie, Emily, and Natalie end up discussing the kind of person who would be best suited for the job.  Their ideas range from a person who is a best friend to someone who speaks no English at all.  They agree that they need a person who will be critical, but not give too many suggestions, and not sound like a sycophant who constantly boosts their self-esteem with phrases like, "You look fabulous!"

 

I learn that their search is not limited to women.  They would be open to a man doing wardrobe, provided he isn't attracted to women.

 

Martie turns to me and jokingly asks, "Junichi, do you want to do wardrobe?"

 

Natalie immediately kills the discussion and says, "He's not gay … enough."