Lessons From a Punk Rock Lawyer 1: Surrender to the Tour

A typical day on a tour involves hours of travel from one venue to another. Things are both heavily scheduled and loosely planned. Every venue is different. There is usually a call sheet created by the tour manager or the venue's production manager and on a well organized tour it gives you both times for load in (bringing your gear into the venue) soundcheck (putting your instruments on the stage and testing the microphones) and performance. A call sheet will also have information about internet access (essential if your band includes an attorney working from his laptop) buyout (money to pay for dinner) and local accommodation like hotels and coffee. As you can imagine, for a guy like me who bills his day by the tenth of an hour, a well drafted call sheet is a thing of beauty, an oasis of organization in the tumultuous sea that is a typical tour. Unfortunately, it is rare that that the times listed are ever accurate. It is not due to the failing of the tour manager, production manager or the musicians involved. What happens to undermine the schedule is tour, itself. On my last tour we had a musician go to the emergency room, a snowstorm in the Donner Pass which required a stop to purchase and install snow chains and the bridge collapse on the upright bass. This was all in one day. Each thing, beyond anyone's control, pushed the schedule.
Even on days without medical emergencies, blizzards, potential cannibalism or instrument failure I found that much of the day was hard to schedule. You may only be on stage for 30 minutes and you may only get a 15 minute line check before you perform but you spend the other 23 hours and 15 minutes waiting and gearing up for that window. We would often arrive at the venue hours before the show and wait. There is simply nothing that can be done but wait. I realized that with all the moving parts and all potential for chaos that there was simply nothing to do but to surrender to the tour. I'd like a smooth predictable schedule but that is simply not possible with four bands, 22 musicians, five support staff, three vans, a trailer and a converted transit bus driving 3500 miles over five days. So I say surrender to the tour. This was my mantra. Like the AA serenity prayer, I accept that there is stuff I cannot change. I accept it. I made sure everyday that my guitar was tuned and my strings were fresh and my stage costume was clean(at least cleanish appearing). I was where I needed to be when I was needed and then I waited. Surrender to the tour. What a joy to return from the last tour to my orderly law practice and suburban family life where everything is calm and predictable...Right? Of course that is not the case. Life, even in the tightly run, well organized law practice, can be chaotic at times. By "chaotic at times" I mean "generally chaotic", of course. There are simply too many variables in a typical case beyond the control of the lawyer and the client. I tell the story about my wife's first time watching me in court. I told her I simply needed to make a five minute appearance at a hearing, get a judge to sign the order and then I would buy her lunch. I was, in fact, only in front of the judge for five minutes. I waited for nearly three hours because the docket was unusually heavy that day but the part I could control went as planned. Surrender to the tour. In litigation, just like on tour, there are many factors I can't control, but I always show up in tune, dressed to perform and ready to give it my all in that five minutes. Control what I can and as for the rest, Surrender to the tour. Next time, my tour take on team building and zombie movies.