SHOW IN MINSK, BELARUS – MИНCК, БEЛAPУCЬ

I got up at 7 am, when my alarm went off. I took a shower and met Robbie for breakfast. Robbie was already annoyed, as they were giving him a hard time, it seems that we needed a breakfast voucher, but couldn't manage to get their point across in Russian. I went downstairs and got a voucher.

We left for the gig at 8 AM. We arrived, nothing had happened, the story hadn't changed. They said that this was all the lights that were available. Robbie said fine, let's go. We put on our jackets, picked up our bags and started to walk out of the building. Suddenly, the lighting crew chief, followed by the interpreter appeared and told us that they found some more lights. Yeah, they just found them. A few minutes later, a guy named Vladimir showed up, it seems that he was with another lighting company. He said that all the lights we requested would be here soon. I reminded him that they were the ones who promised the lights in the first place.

They started to bring lights up from somewhere else, where, I do not know, but it seemed that they were already in the theater. They didn't match the other lights, these were very shiny and new. I find that there is a lot of lying over here, and I am not always sure of the reason.

They also lowered all of the trusses and moved them to the positions that I chose. Things seemed to be getting better quickly. The rest of the crew came in and saw that it would be a while before they could get to their gear. Shortly thereafter, we headed upstairs to the cantina for lunch. It was awful. The prerequisite salads, some broth for soup and then the piece de resistance, some unrecognizable plate of food. We were suddenly back in Russia. Nobody ate it. It was horrible. I went back down to oversee all the lighting changes. We decided to order from McDonald's.

Everything that was going so well with the lighting slowed down. The trusses hung low on the stage for eons. They were having problems, they said. A few minutes, they said. An hour later, nothing had changed.

One of the worst thing about this situation was that we were filming the show tonight. Murphy's Law. I would never have the show up and running for a good film. I cannot begin to tell you how frustrating this was.

The film crew was there, setting up the dolly track, setting up the camera boom. They looked like a bunch of scientists in their lab coats putting all this stuff together.

It was nearing 5 PM already. I thought I needed to look at my console, maybe start some programming. I asked to see my console. A house guy took Lars and I to the lighting booth. We went to the elevator, down one floor, down a corridor, around the corner, into a room, through another hallway, into what looked like a foyer, into a restaurant/bar, up one flight of stairs, into an elevator, up one floor, down one flight of stairs (yes, I know) through another corridor and finally into the lighting booth. We looked at Lars' console, it was fine; he took me to mine- it was a Strand Theater Lighting console, made for theatrical shows! It had 4 faders, and was made for doing Broadway shows, not Rock & Roll shows. I immediately asked our guide to take me back to the stage, as there was no way I was going to find my way back through that maze.

I got to the stage and informed Vladimir that the console was completely unacceptable. He just shrugged his shoulders. I was incredulous. I went to Robbie and informed him of my latest predicament. Again, Robbie threatened to pull the show, and that action was warranted because there is no way I could do a show without a proper desk.

Throughout all this craziness, Robbie stayed in contact with Fieldmarshall Gehrke, as he is the direct link to the band.

Amazingly, they found a lighting desk I could use. As a matter of fact, it was already in the theater. Once again, we had been lied to, for what reason, I do not know.

Tania, our interpreter, said that she thought that the reason for these lies is that many of the people just don't want to put forth the effort. That made a lot of sense, especially since if you consider the way communism worked- let's take a factory in the old Soviet Union, say that makes widgets. Each factory worker is expected to produce 10 widgets per day, that is the common quota. Say a new person comes to work, a real go-getter. On his first day, he produces 15 widgets. The supervisors are astounded. They are pleased. They look at his technique and realize that anybody can produce 15 widgets per day. So, suddenly, everybody has to produce 15 widgets per day in order to meet quota. And to keep their job. All because of this new go-getter factory worker. Now everybody hates him. They all have to work harder because of some new guy. And they make the same money. My point here is that in a communist world, people learn that ambition usually gets you in hot water with the other employees, and it makes sense to do as little as it takes to complete your task.

Anyway, my new desk finally appeared and they started setting it up. I was still waiting for the trusses to go up so I could focus. McDonald's finally arrived, but none of us were told, and I didn't have time to eat anyway.

Finally, my trusses started to go up in the air. Vladimir asked if I wanted to focus from the ground. I stated that I needed the lights focused after the truss was at trim. There was a large, gasoline-powered manlift in the theater, I asked about using it, they said it was impossible. Of course. Again they would have to bring the trusses down, climb on, take them back up and focus; come down and do the same on the next 3 trusses.

Well, I wish it would've been that easy- they refused to climb on to the trusses, claiming they were scared. Plus, they said, they had a special technique for focusing from the ground. What a joke! It was at this point I finally lost it, spewing out a string of expletives and storming off the stage. It never ends, and I had finally reached my limit. I went into the Production Office to cool down.

Robbie came in, calmed me down and we went back to the stage. After going back and forth for an eternity, I finally just gave in and let them focus from the floor. This process took a while, as I had them bring the trusses up and down several times until I felt comfortable with the focus. It was insane, but we had to get the show going, as it was already 9 PM.

They couldn't even start the drum riser until my lights were high enough. Finally, they started building it and here we went again with another unacceptable drum riser.

This was the Final of the Queen of Rock, all the winners in most of the previous cities were here to find out who was Number One. It was during this event that I managed to program my show. My programmer was from the theater, and knew everything about the desk. He was to help me program. Unfortunately, this guy simply smelled, he stank. And to make matters worse, Lars and I were wedged in-between this guy and other lighting crew and we were forced to sit as we were in the theater seats and the general audience was seated all around us. Very uncomfortable to say the least.

The Queen of Rock was chosen by a panel of judges, as opposed to the usual audience volume, and the winner, believe it or not, was the girl that I had picked to win in Volgograd.

The band finally went on, it, for me, was a horrible show. Lars as well. And to make matters worse, this guy sitting next to me was making me nauseous. I could identify each odor, sweat, piss, feet, and worst of all, the result of the fact that none of the bathrooms have toilet paper over here. I will not elaborate beyond that.

The show dragged on, however, the only saving grace was, once again, Wind of Change, when the audience was just ecstatic.

After the show, I went backstage, collected my belongings and was going to leave immediately. However, I spotted the phone in the Production Office and felt like calling a couple of friends in the states to help make me feel better. After the calls, I left, I walked back to the hotel, about 20 minutes.

As I left the theater, it was snowing. The flakes felt good against my face. On previous visits, I had made this walk along the main street from the city center to the hotel. The walk brought back nice memories. It was very therapeutic, the memories, the isolation, the dark night and the snow.

I arrived back at the hotel, we were to go to some disco where the band was eating dinner, join them and have dinner ourselves. I had only eaten breakfast so far, and that was 17 hours ago.

I went to my room, dropped off my stuff and went back down to the lobby. Achim and Andreas were there; we waited for Robbie and Peter to get back from the venue.

Once they arrived, we loaded up on the bus and headed to the disco, 5 minutes away. We went in and it was mobbed. The band were on a stage next to the dance floor taking photos with the Queen of Rock contestants. We sat, ordered beers and vodka and read the menu. I ordered some caviar and an appetizer of shrimp. I hate eating too much this late. Everybody else ordered, some caviar and also spaghetti. My vodka arrived, we toasted the fact that we had made it through the day. Our beers arrived, and Robbie disappeared. He returned, livid and said that he was leaving. It seems that the promoter had refused to pay for our caviar (which, by the way, was only 10 buck and 3 of us had ordered it) and also said that we were only allowed to order certain things from the menu. We were all livid. After this horrendous day, caused by the promoter and his lying cronies, after the Scorpions crew pulled this thing together so we could actually do a show despite serious problems, he had the audacity to dictate what we had to eat for dinner, after NONE of us had eaten all day! Livid was an understatement. We all got up and walked out of the club, but not before Robbie went over to the promoter and had a few choice words with him.

We made our way to the bus, and Fieldmarshall Gehrke came running after us wanting to know what happened. Robbie explained, and Fieldmarshall Gehrke, wanting to do something to help, but he was at a loss, because we refused to go back in the club and be in the company of the likes of such a creep as that promoter.

Disheartened, after such a horrible day, and it being Sunday night, McDonald's was closed, so we went back to the hotel.