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Worked today at a local venue.  Met a stagehand fella maybe named Ed.  He said – call me Lumpy.  Actually, I don’t recall what his real name is but he answers to Lumpy.  Lumpy it is.

Which reminds me of a story… The thing about being a stagehand for umpteen years and working umpteen plus load ins, load outs and gigs is that you tend to collect a lot of stories.  I got loads of stories.

One time we were loading in a band at a local roadhouse and decided to get ahead of the game before the busses and trucks pulled up by setting the stage according to their rider.  The rider included the stage plot which means where they wanted the  drum riser, the bass and keyboard risers and the guitar risers placed.

So we set everything up according to their floor plan.  The roadies arrives with the band gear and one fella says to me ” What’s this riser for?”

I say, it’s on the plot.  The roadie says and I quote because I couldn’t make this up and it’s priceless.

He says,…” Oh, he ain’t with the band no more. He’s daid.”

He might be daid but on the rider his memory lives on.  I hope they never update the rider.

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