The show was played in a large carpark next to
a freeway and my sore throat was getting worse, as I had developed a dry
cough. I can’t remember much about the
show other than the fact that my drum tech Justin was doing a great job of
setting the kit with different hired hardware everyday. My drum kit was flown
everywhere along with all the other equipment, but at every gig, DW, my drum
supplier, were furnishing Justin with the stands. This saved on the expense and
logistics of the space and weight needed.
Positioning everything at every show
is not an exact science and a centimetre here or there can mean the difference
between skinned knuckles, bloody drum heads or not. It was so far so good but
that was about to change. I was very much looking forward to Santiago in Chile and Montevideo in
Uruguay that were our next two shows.
The sound check at the National Stadium in
Santiago was under the brightest afternoon sun. The heat was intense and
reflective covers were over the drums. That night I hit the middle index finger
of my right hand on the wing nut holding a cymbal in place on the last beat of Down the Wrong Way, right on the
knuckle.
Fortunately, this was the point in the
set where I left the stage. It hurt like hell and I wrapped my finger in the
icy towels that I walk off stage with every night. It was turning blue but there
was no blood, my own fault for being so bloody final about the last bosh on the
cymbals. Still, I caught the stick!!
These things happen from time to time and my
knuckles bear testament to the last fifty years of playing the drums.
To make up for it, there were fifteen birds of prey circling around in
the air above the stadium on the thermal we were helping to cause.
Tomorrow we travel over the Andes Mountains
heading east to the S. Atlantic and Montevideo at the mouth of the Rio de la
Plata, the mighty river plate.
M.D.C.
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