Sorry for the length of this newsletter: it's Fall Tour Time. But if you keep inviting us to play all these concerts you're only encouraging us.
This month's newsletter isn't really much news or much letter: It's pictures. Think of this as a photo album. So, when you're ready to rock on, get yourself a cup of strong coffee and get ready read on with a new read oh God. For those about to rock on, we salute you.
Over the years, Michael has had various collections. As a child he collected baseball cards. Later in life he built a stockpile of matchbooks. He has also gathered cards from the back of hotel bathroom doors. Most recently, Michael has decided to collect candy bar wrappers containing birth announcements. (If you've seen them, you know what they are; if you haven't seen them, you will soon.) I have never really collected anything. But recently I have begun a collection of butterflies. I like to take them with me when I travel, so I keep them on a special mounting surface that I always take with me when I'm in the van.
My butterfly collection
Speaking of naturalists, I'd like to take a moment to introduce you to our friend Pete. Mr. Obermueller has signed on as the new Boy Friday for LOST AND FOUND.
Pete does e-mail while Michael pumps gas
So, last month. Wait, I'd better backup . . . at the very end of August we played a thing or two that didn't make the September letter. First was a fine concert in Washington, Iowa.
You see who's in back there, eh?
Then it was off to Saint Cloud, MN.
In St Cloud, there were some guys there who wanted us to play a certain song. They were afraid that we might not remember the words, I guess, so they provided a little prompting.
Then it was off to Westby, WI, where we found a sizable number came out to see us. And, of course, we saw them.
I believe from there I went to build a shed. On the third day I drove again, and descended into Kentucky where I sat at the left hand of Michael, the Bridgeman. From thence we shall judge the good bands from the bad. Oh, sorry. I slipped into a little credal cadence there. What I meant was, I began constructing a shed to hold my growing collection of butterflies.
Then Michael and I went to eastern Kentucky to play at the Shigionoth Festival (where we shiggied on in King James' style). We had a great time and were honored to be MC LOST AND FOUND once again. Met bunches of great bands, one very nasty tour manager for a band that refused to play, and were blessed to witness the shofar.
Michael watches a member of the ska band The Israelites
Our favorite band of the weekend was called Pallette. They were really fun, interesting, and A-P-P-R-O-A-C-H-A-B-L-E. (That's a word that means, essentially, "just like you and me," though in some cases it might just mean "unsigned.") Look for them playing in a town near you.
Pallette Shiggies on
We tried our best to be one of the bands. We parked our van next to the real bands' busses and tried to spend our off-stage minutes in there, but it quickly became apparent that sitting in a cargo van wasn't quite the same as watching movies in an air conditioned Silver Eagle.
A real band crowds our turf
The following night we played my alma mater--Concordia College, Bronxville, NY 10708. As you can see, we suffer a little from the Nazarene Complex when we play there.
|It takes three frames to fit 'em all in!|
Then we went to one of our favorite events of the year: The annual Hammonasset Gathering. This is where 500-700 zany northerners camp out, watch videos, sing songs, and worship together in a state park. It's really fun, without fail. Here are a few photos from the event . . .
The Happy Peace Sign
Rock on, nor'easters!
From there it was off to Oreland, PA (that's Philadelphia to you and me)
|A fine crowd, eh?|
Then we drove to chocolate town. However, the church where we played does not seem to support the local economy, since it is called the Hershey Free Church. Here's a snapshot of the rather excitable group of folks, some whom were heavy caffeinated-soda drinkers.
Then, and only then, did we have a day or two off. Michael went home to Los Angeles and I went home to my wife (where she and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary) and I put doors on the shed since my butterflies kept spilling out. Once the butterflies were safely ensconced, I jumped in the van and drove out to Chicago where I picked up some of our groovy tie-dyed shirts from Henryk and the Rasta Russians, then met Michael at the airport. We played in Lansing, Illinois.
Then we zipped eastward and just short of being stripsearched, oh I mean entering Canada, we stopped in Port Huron for a few hamburgers and songs. The setting was intimate, but they had the greatest visual choir we've never heard.
Then it was off to a guaranteed great time at Concordia University, Mequon, Wisconsin. This began our non-Nazarene-complex Concordia swing.
|Three frames cannot stop these folks; they can only contain them!|
Next up was Concordia University, River Forest, Illinois.
|Rock on CURFers!|
In the anchor position was Concordia College, Seward, Nebraska. Without fail, this concert goes swimmingly since it is always held in the room that we're convinced was once the swimming pool. Every year the students humor us by placing a "no diving" sign on the organ pipes next to the stage. They've also added a quilted banner/phone/slicer/dicer on the opposite wall.
|Again, only contained; balcony sold separately.|
When that concert was over, we began driving toward the Rockies. The next night it was Colby, Kansas. We had a fine time, and some people came to watch us have that time. Earlier, there were actually more people than in the photo. However, after we played "Used To Be," about 20 or so people inexplicably got up and left. People of Colby, we are with you and we hope that you continue to rock on!
From there it was off to that place where Pete's football team plays. We had a concert in Littleton, in the most beautiful church we've seen in some time.
Then we played one of the more curious events of the years. We put on our velvet tuxes and ruffled shirts and took to the stage as Denver Lutheran High School's Homecoming Entertainment. Following the crowning of the king and queen, we began playing and chased away most of the adults (along with a good number of the students).
The next night it was Atkinson, NE, which isn't exactly on the way to anything. However, a huge crowd turned out, many of whom drove more than two hours! We had a fine time playing on the home turf of the Huskies. Here's a shot or four of the crowd.
If you've got some spare time and are looking for a challenging mental exercise, try this one: Imagine you're leaving Atkinson, NE at 10:00pm and are heading for Sioux Falls, SD where you hope to sleep. The trick is, try to find a route that gets you there without getting lost, yet doesn't take you via Sioux City, IA. Good luck, my friends! We were once more treated to lyrical assistance with a particular song, as you can see.
Then it was drive drive drive to The Metroplex (as local news people call it). Our friend Rollie Martinson invited us to play something he set up in Burnsville, MN. The church was called Prince of Peace, but I believe a more accurate name would be Monstrously Large or perhaps The Church of the Hidden Front Door. A huge crowd turned out and we had a jim dandy time with lights, a disco ball, and a talk by our favorite gymnast.
|Once more did we get lyrical help with that song.|
Also that night, we reconnected with a fellow that we've not seen since high school! Take a look at that photo and consider which color dominates; then try to guess which a airline our friend Mike works for.
A couple of Mikes
Okay, we're winding down now. The next morning Michael began to contract laryngitis and we played at the chapel service at Concordia University, Metroplex, MN. After that we had a really interesting time with a theology class. In the evening we played a concert for the students.
The next day Michael's voice had completely abandoned him and we drove to Baraboo, WI. (Not sure what that town's name means, but it might have something to do with the crowds chanting to Pontius Pilate.) Anyway, we played in the Al. Ringling ("Al." apparently always takes the period) Theater. It was (and is) and absolutely gorgeous place. Though I suspect old Al. might have done a little turning in his grave that night.
And that, my friends, is what I did on my September vacation. I hope you found it informative and nutritious. Oh yes, please don't get a generous spirit and start sending me butterflies for my collection. I've run out of room already, and the Architectural Revue Board won't give me permission to build another shed any time soon.
More next month,