Have You Seen The Karate Kid?

As Cheryl made her way out of the front door and out onto the street, she had an uneasy feeling. It was Saturday morning and the band had gotten in shortly after 3 a.m. the night before. Since we were heading to Buffalo less then six hours later, we left all of our equipment locked in the back of Max's car. For some reason, Cheryl had a weird sense that something had gone wrong when she walked out into the morning Brighton air. She was late for her trip to Wetlands though and jumped in her car and drove off. About an hour later, I walked outside and noticed Beau and Max looking through the back window of the car. My first thought was that the keys had gotten locked in the Volvo the night before. After all, it was a gig day and anyone in a band can tell you that something always seems to go wrong on the day of a show. No matter how early you leave or how specific your directions are, Murphy's Law always seems to come into play. It wouldn't be our only brush with the law on this day.

In the three years that Uncle Sammy has been together, we have never canceled a show. I'm pretty proud of that. We've had a lot of close calls. We've seen our fair share of snowstorms. Since we can't afford to buy a van, we generally take two or three cars on the road when we travel. Max's parent's car can fit most of the equipment, and the rest of us ride in another car with the rest of the miscellaneous gear. While traveling with more than one vehicle is expensive, it can sometimes be a blessing in disguise. On one occasion, we broke down in the middle of nowhere. Max's car was completely dead. The alternator was shot. Our only option was to leave all of the equipment in a field with Max, in the rain, while the rest of us drove an hour in the opposite direction to rent a van. We made the gig though. The streak continued.

So there we were, standing in the driveway. I still wasn't sure what Beau and Max were looking at in the car. They looked dazed and confused. Beau thought it was a cruel joke or something. Max didn't really say anything. Then I realized what had happened. Half of our equipment had been stolen, gone forever. Someone had the nerve to walk into our driveway and steal thousands of dollars worth of equipment. I'm a little ashamed to say that my initial thought was to cancel the gig. Less than a second later, I switched into problem-solving mode. Being the manager of a band at this level really involves quite a bit of problem solving. So, while Brian went and called the cops, I called a music store and started asking questions about renting keyboards. The whole incident completely sucked, but in less than two hours, we were on the road with rented gear and on our way to the show.

Since we were now severely behind schedule, we needed to drive a "bit" faster than the speed limit. We got pulled over somewhere between Albany and Syracuse. The cop was friendly and didn't hassle us, but it set us back another twenty minutes or so. He handed Max a ticket and we were on our way. Shortly thereafter, it began to rain. All right, so we had a couple setbacks, but we were now halfway there and it seemed that we would barely make it to in time for soundcheck. As we approached Buffalo, I was feeling good. We had beaten the odds once again. Half of our gear had been ripped off, but we were still alive and kicking. We were within ten miles of the venue when the rain turned to snow. A mile or so later, we were suddenly driving through a snowstorm. Our speed dropped to about 30 MPH and I was beginning to feel like the odds were really against us. Nothing seemed to be going right. I had such high hopes for the show. I was looking forward to the band playing Broadway Joe's again. The crowds there are always incredibly enthusiastic and clubs stay open until 4 a.m. in Buffalo.

After what seemed like forever, we pulled into Buffalo and made it to the club. The band played one of the best shows I've ever seen. They blew my mind yet again. Sure, I'm biased as hell, but I do know good music when I hear it. There was an energy on stage that night that was so powerful. It was as if the band was responding to all of the evil forces in the world and saying, "you can't knock us down!" I felt so proud of the guys for pulling together and throwing down such an amazing show. They were communicating better than I've heard in quite some time. They were laughing and having the time of their lives. There's something about spending eight hours in a car that makes the band play like they're on a mission. Whatever it was, it worked. I actually danced, which I rarely have an opportunity to do.

There are so many bands out there and a very small percentage of them ever "make it," whatever that means. I almost feel like every time something bad happens to the band, we're one step closer to being successful. It makes us stronger. It makes us appreciate all of the positive things that much more. Very few bands ever "make it" without going through hell first. "Behind The Music" teaches us that. We often joke about that every time something bad happens, "Well, at least we'll have plenty of material for 'Behind The Music' someday." So our gear got stolen. It sucks. The world is evil, but life goes on. The music can't be taken from us and the band proved that on Saturday. What started as a shitty day, wound up being psychologically turning point for me. After all, insurance can't replace music.

That's my story. I'm sticking to it.

If anyone sees a Korg X-2 keyboard with a picture of The Karate Kid taped on it, it's ours.

Jeff Waful is the Jambands.com daily news editor and managers and books Uncle Sammy.