Status Report
Day Eighteen.
Name: Rob Ingraham
Age: 31 years, 3 months, 6 days
Height: 6' (approx.)
Weight: 175 lbs. (approx.)
Blood Type: O Negative
Astrological Sign: Scorpio
Affiliation: The Revivalists
Position: Saxophonist, historian
Date: Friday, February 17, 2017
Time: 2:45 PM PST
Current Location: Portland, Oregon, USA
Temperature: 53 degrees Fahrenheit
Climate: Crisp and refreshing
Political Climate: LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU LA LA LA LA LA
Current Health: Moderate
Current Hangover: Mild
Hunger: 33/100
Fatigue: 75/100
Awareness: 41/100
Readiness: 99/100
Laundry, Clean: 8/100
Laundry, Dirty: 92/100
Cell Phone Battery: 88/100
Cell Phone Reception: 40/100
Time Since Last Shower: 13 hours, 26 minutes
Time Since Last Meal: 2 hours, 41 minutes
Time Since Last Snack: 13 hours, 45 minutes
Current New Jam: Braxton Cook
Current Old Jam: Rancid
Favorite Jam: Strawberry
Current Mood: Scott Pilgrim on top of a bus
Notes:
Previous evening's show (Hi-Fi, Eugene Oregon, 2-16-17, Status Report #23379) unmitigated success. Audience animated. Effort made to include less commonly-played songs in set list. Perspiration level high. Jubilation level high. Gratitude approaching record-high.
Nearing end of campaign. Victory imminent. Morale soaring.
Addendum:
Hello, friends! Rob here.
It finally happened. After sound check at Mississippi Studios/Bar Bar for our surprise (to me at least) performance for 94.7 KNRK here in Portland (Mississippi Studios being named for the street it's on, not the state it's in), I went back behind the stage to warm up. It was a narrow space, especially with all of our empty cases stacked floor-to-ceiling along both walls. On the left, there was a door to a small bathroom. On the far wall, there was a full-length mirror-
OH GOD NO WAIT THAT'S MORE OF THIS ROOM.
The circle is complete. I officially cannot tell the difference between a mirror and the rest of the room. Pray for me.
Speaking of mirrors, how did it become customary for bands to put their stickers on mirrors backstage? I understand leaving a sticker on the wall, or the door, or- depending on the punk-rock credibility of the venue- the toilet tank lid or an exposed pipe. That's all fine. But mirrors kind of don't really work so good when you cover them with stuff. I don't care if Kevin Jenkins and the Electric Dickfart Factory Band want me to know that they stopped here on their '03 tour, I'm trying to fix my stupid hair. I should cop to the fact that we have been guilty of this in the past. But NO MORE. Gotta break the cycle.
Ending: Abrupt.
