Did a show tonight at the Kah-Nee-Ta Resort and Casino in Warm Springs Oregon. If you need directions, just go to the middle of Oregon and turn left when you see a cow in the road. Kah-Nee-Ta is pronounced like it's the name of a white trash kid. As in "Kahneeta Jackson get your ass back in the trailer!" I guess Kahneeta actually sounds more like a black girls name, but I hesitated to mention that because I have a lot of white guilt. Indian Casino's tend to bring that out in me. Just not enough to call them Native American Casino's. Not a lot of customers at the Indigenous People's Casino Resort this week. I was told it's their "off season." Yeah I didn't know Warm Springs was ever "in season" either. Warm Springs is a great place to go when you want to keep your vacation a secret. Here's the view from the back of the room at showtime.
I think we ended up with 12 people by the end, which is the perfect number because it was like performing for a sequestered jury. No one got to watch TV, no one could talk, and no one could leave. They were trapped. I think they ended up having an OK time, possibly against their will. About 35 minutes into my scheduled 60 the batteries died on the wireless microphone I was using. I think that was my fault. I'd been silently asking myself all night "How could this gig get any worse?" and the mic decided to quit working in order to answer that question. While the emcee/sound guy/bartender/manager/karaoke host scrambled to find some new batteries a guy from the crowd yelled out "If the microphone is broken can we leave now?" I said "You fucking wish sir." Sadly, it was my biggest laugh of the night.