There gonna put me in the movies . . . .

There gonna make a big star out of me. That's what Buck Owens said. Not necessarily true for The Nadas, but we did spend a few days last week, shaking hands and rubbing elbows at the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. I went for the first time last year (that's where I met Benjamin Wagner. ) to do some freelancing for MTV News.
I was so inspired last year that I knew we needed to go this year. We were lucky enough to get invited by the Star Bar on main street. The epicenter for music the entire festival. ASCAP had showcases there everyday, and there were parties at night. We got to see artists who we admire from afar . . . . Martin Sexton , and Schuyler Fisk and artists we call friends . . . . Matt Moon , Kristin Hoffmann , and Arthur Lee. There is an incredible creative energy all around and you can't help but want to be a part of it. With all if this music Mike and I were only able to make it to one screening. It was called Princesas. I hope it makes it to a theater near you. It probably won't, but I hope it does.

Next year we are talking about doing it up right. So make your travel plans now. It will be a big Authentic Records
party at Sundance, and you are all invited.

So, no movie offers yet, but a cool experience none the less. And rumor has it we did make a fleeting appearance in a film that was being screened in Park City by our friend Chad Calek. And who knows, we passed enough music out to people that maybe someone will decide to use some music in a film. In the mean time I hope you all include us on the soundtrack of your home movies. If you do send us a copy. I love other peoples home movies. . . . . .

Frontier . . . the final frontier.

We found out we were playing Sundance about one week in advance. Have you ever shopped for airline tickets with a one week lead time? Trying to fly out of The Des Moines International Airport costs about as much as flying out of Timbuktu. The cheapest we could find was pushing 700 bucks each! Then I decided I would try out of Omaha, a tactic we almost always resort to. But hey! Frontier Airlines flys out of Omaha. Tickets on Frontier were just over 250 each! That's quite difference, are we being robbed in Des Moines? I think so. There is another reason we wanted to fly frontier. Frontier has been showing footage from our dvd in every seat on every flight.



How cool. But, we missed it. They are now showing other programing. Part of which happens to be a friend of mine Brian Joseph.

Does this sound like an ad for Frontier Airlines? Maybe it is, they helped us, now we'll help them.

Fly Frontier!

let the voting begin and contine, and continue, and continue.

Okay. . . . round 2. A couple of months ago we won the contest in Des Moines, IA to open for Bon Jovi. We were arena gods for a night. Now the time is come for round 2. The voting is this week only, but you can do it as often as your carpel tunnel will allow. Think of it as american idol for real bands (ooh, sorry kelly clarksen). goto

VOTE HERE!

Can we bum a ride?

Well official status report. The bus is dead. Engine blown. Oh, we will rebuild it. We have to. It's a questions of where and when and how. Now, these engines get rebuilt all the time. That's the way it works. Every 500,000 miles or so, enigine and transmisson get pulled, rebuilt from scratch, and put back in. . . to the tune of 15,000-20,000 dollars. That's the problem. How can we begin to make enough money to fix her up, without her. I know, we'll use the van . . . oh yeah, bad news, she's dead too. Probably won't make it another 100 miles. The van blew a rod . . . or is about to. So yeah, we need a ride, to every gig for the next few months. Any ideas? or does anyone have a detriot 6v92ti engine laying around. And while we are at it, anyone have a jet. Mike and I have been invited to play the sundance film festival this weekend in Park City utah. Can't figure out how to get there. Seriously, Hello Dave has a fan with a jet that flys them everywhere. Meet you at the airport. . .

Jason

It was Bittersweet, more sweet than bitter. . .

It has been a long time coming. When Mike and I started playing music together in 1993 most of the songs we did were Big Head Todd covers. Bittersweet, cirlce, vincint of jersey, midnight radio. Since then we have been wanting and trying to open for them. In the beginning there was no chance. I was learning to play bar chords (still don't know that many) and they were playing the Civic Center in Des Moines (great show by the way, and one of Stephanie and my first dates. BHT, Sun 60, the Bodeans, but that's another story). Ever since then we have been trying to get on a show or a tour. I can't tell you how many connections we have with the band. Including the fact that their agent is our former agent. Well finally the planets aligned we got our gig. Last monday at the Sokol auditorium in Omaha, NE our dream became a reality. What a great rock band. They were gracious and humble people, down to earth and cool. I didn't push my face time, I was too nervous. But shook hands and thanked them for the opprotunity. I passed our cds onto Todd's wife in hopes she might have some influence. Hopefully they are watching our DVD now as they travel in their great big bus to another awsome venue. They have worked hard for it and they have got it good. Thanks for the gig guys. But with victory comes defeat. the price you pay for that kind of a night. A prized well loved well worn Gibson J-45 guitar stolen out the backseat of our buddies car. He just came along to help carry stuff and watch some music, and somebody decided they should bust his window and steal whatever they could fine. If anyone sees a tobacco sunburst Gibson j45 for sale in omaha, let us know.

Fat Andy's story

jason

From our intern turned employee inspired by her first cross country road trip with The Nadas

From: lindsey@thenadas.com
Subject: A Eulogy to Meatloaf...
Date: January 5, 2006 10:37:53 PM CST
To: jason@thenadas.com

That may be a little premature. How about a get-well-soon letter:

Dearest Meatloaf,

Although we only knew each other for a short time, you will never be forgotten.
From the moment I stepped foot onto your lovely, once beige carpet and inhaled
your intoxicating aroma of leftover booze and man sweat, I knew good times were
in store.

I would have never dreamed, however, that our relationship would end so far from
where it started. When your wheels rolled to a stop at mile marker 155 off of
I-76 in eastern Colorado I knew something had gone horribly wrong. Your engine
wouldn?t fire, but you kept your generator humming, making sure we were not
without light or heat in our cold, dark time. For 16 hours you were there for
us when no one else was. You were strong, Meatloaf, but not strong enough.

You now reside in Kearney, Nebraska where I hope they are treating you well. We
all miss you and wish you the best of luck in your recovery. I hope to hear
from you soon. I just don?t know how I will ever be able to go on the road
again without you.

Love and Heartache,
Lindsey

And one from Justin. . . .

Justin Says . .. . . .

Where to start with the breakdowns? Should I start by bad to not so bad or ease of repair? I don’t know but here it goes. Get ready because this could get long. The other day on our way to MN just after I laid down, no kidding, Mike screams my name from the front and said the bus just lost power. As I am getting up he yells we’re okay. I lay back down and two minutes later I hear my name along with, the bus just died again. Finally I get up go to the front to see what the deal is. Mike is getting her pulled off to the side of the road just as she starts up again and we are rolling. I told him to pull her over and I’ll try to keep it from happening. Yesterday I saw a bit of corrosion on the main kill switch of the bus. I thought at least it would be a start. I couldn’t find the right stuff in my Mr. Fix It tool box, it’s a big box too, let me tell you. So I grab a diet coke from Mandy sprayed it on the switch, cleaned it with starter fluid, and banged it twice with a screwdriver and we were off. Sweet that was easy. I’ll leave the rest of the breakdowns that day for my reader’s sake. The next little thing occurred just as we were leaving for CO. Luke was driving I was setting up front, for once not taking a nap, and the transmission wouldn’t shift. This sometime happens when it’s super cold or if she (Louis) is cranky. We circled around town by the bus barn to check it out. Just then she shifts. No problem, then at the next light it does the same thing. We circle half of Des Moines again headed for the bus barn and noticed the tranny was leaking again. Damn, I just took a shower, I don’t have dirt under my nails and I have to mess with the bus before we leave. This old thing is greasy and it’s hard not to touch it without becoming filthy. I have Luke pull it off the road, I pull on my coveralls, grab an orange cone so I don’t get ran over and step off the bus. A few minutes later and a couple gallons of transmission fluid we are going again. Great another long drive wreaking of grease, diesel fuel, and having dirt under my nails. Even with the best cleaner it’s hard to get that old gunk off. The last is the grand daddy of them all. In fact, not to spoil what happened, I’m writing this in a suburban with nine people in it headed back to Des Moines. Yep, that’s right Louis broke down in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t be revived. It was bad. Jason was driving along and everything seemed fine. I went up and gave a quick check of the gauges and told Jason I’m going to sleep. Twenty minutes into my nap, or sleep, since the night before was New Years Eve. Mandy comes and gets me and says that the bus just died. No way, what the hell, every time I fall asleep or try too the bus dies. Jason told me I shouldn’t try sleeping any more so that we can make it home. I go out to see what the deal is only to find the engine compartment door hanging by a screw, anti freeze dumping out onto the ground and something burning. Wow, I had to step back like a field medic in WWII and prioritize. The burning smell was first. It ended up being a small electrical fire in the bay. Next, was finding out where all the antifreeze was coming from, and then it was the door. All in all I only stopped the electrical fire and removed the engine compartment door. I was out of parts out of tools and stuck in the middle of nowhere on New Years Eve. Hey, chips and canned chili isn’t that bad for supper is it?

hand sandwich

Holy Cow!!!!!! I haven’t written a New Guy Road Journal since July. That’s a long time but as of recently I had witnessed some cool stuff I thought might be worthy. A couple weeks ago a friend of ours, Mandy Miller, came along for a road trip. At this point I can’t remember where we were going. Anyway, at one point along the way Mandy was going to brush her teeth and she was wondering which water to use, which sink to use, and all the other questions about the bus that people have. Being a seasoned road veteran I told her to use the water in this bottle and spit in the trash. She was like really? Sure, you don’t spit in the sink because it leaves that sticky mess after awhile and the water in the holding tank is non-potable. Later, she came with us to Colorado along with our intern Lindsey. During one day on the trip I witnessed something that started this journal. At least it was funny to me. Lindsey started to brush her teeth and she began to ask the standard questions that Mandy asked the other day. Mandy, just like a pro said, oh here use this water and just spit in the trash. Lindsey responded the same way, really. It cracked me up and got me thinking how much stuff about the road I take for granted. I remember the old days of being in the van for 10 and 12 hours a day with bags on your lap and having to pee so bad your eyes were watering. Now I’m in a big bus that needs a lot of love and it’s usually right after I’ve fallen asleep. I know more close my eyes and a call beacons from the front, Justin (insert problem here) Mostly, just little stuff but recently it has been a rash of stuff, which I will get into later. The main thing about being on the road is being able to adapt to any situation no matter what it may be. It can be anything from someone taking your last piece of bread to the soundman at the club being 3 hours late. Now instead of that ham on wheat sandwich, you’re having a ham on hand sandwich with mayo or just constantly having to deal with other people in your space. I’m usually the guy who ate the bread. Luckily through out my years of touring I’ve been fortunate of being around great people, now is no exception. Sure we have our little screaming matches but for the most part it’s great. Just a second ago I had a discussion with Jason and Mandy about saving this document. I was like, why, I’m not done with it yet and they were like, what if the computer crashes or something like that. Na, that won’t happen I never save stuff or back anything up I’m not that computer savvy. With a little more urging though I saved it and made them happy. See like I was saying, you have to adapt. My next journal will have a lot about the aforementioned bus breakdowns and adapting. Until next time Love and Suburbans.
Justin

From Wendy . . .

http://omahadenveromahadenver.blogspot.com/

omaha, denver, omaha, denver, desmoines, omaha.

It's Miller Time. . . .

Here is mandy millers take on the whole weekend. . . .
Mandy Miller's new Photo Blog.

A new year poem . . . . by Mike Butterworth

Twas New Years Day and all through the bus, not a creature was stirring except one of us
I in my PJ’s all snuggly and groovy, had just settled in the back lounge to watch a dumb movie
When all of the sudden there arose such a clatter, I sprung from the couch to see what was the matter
Away to the front lounge I flew like a bee
“This could be the big one” Jon Locker told me

The sun dimly shone through the clouds in the sky
We were broke down in Nebraska so barren and dry
And what to my nervous darting eyes should appear?
Absolutely nothing, the middle of nowhere

With a bit of shock and a feeling of glum
We fought through bad cell service to find a ride home
After 14 plus hours waiting there on that road
A twinkle appeared through the new fallen snow

What to my now hopeful eyes now should appear?
Wendy and Dallas, Heroes of the year
So on Jason on Mike, Travis, Jon and Justin
On Mandy and Lindsey our move we be bustin’

So my eyes how they twinkled, My smile so merry
Even though the ride home was freezing and hairy
Still you could hear on I80 as I yelled through the clear,
Thanks to you all for ’05 and a Happy New Year.

Somewhere, under the rainbow.

I found the end of the rainbow. It is at the get off ramp of Interstate 76 in eastern colorado. Mile marker 155. It's not a pot of gold, it is a 1985 eagle rock and roll tour bus formerly owned by meatloaf, that's right meatloaf. She has treated us well and hauled us all over the country multiple times for the past year and many others for many years before. new years day sunday in far eastern colorado she gave up, shut down, and left us stranded.



2:30pm . . . . we started making calls. We called truckstops, repair shops, emergency roadside assistance, the police, the sherrif's dept, the highway patrol. Not a single one responded. NO ONE! We may have told them we were in a tour bus, but regardless the "highway patrol" said they would not be responding and could not help us.



7 hours later we finally found a tow company in Kearney (that's about 400 miles away) that was willing to try and tow us the next day. Now we needed a way home. We thought about hitchhiking to the nearest town and renting a vehicle, but only one place in a 200 mile radius called vern's cars was even listed and they didn't answer the phone. We racked our brains to figure out what poor friend of ours could help. Things are a little complicated when you are trying to move 8 people and a 3000 pound trailer. It sort of limits the options. . .



Enter Wendy and Dallas to the rescue. They had just made it home to Omaha after celebrating with us in denver. They drove 10 hours to denver, came to our show, drove 10 hours back, then they got the call. Hearing we were stranded they saddled up again and headed right back over the same ruts and pot holes they had already navigated twice in the past 24 hours. As we hunkered down for the night, they borrowed a suped up chevy suburban and headed west . . . again.

Now, I am very disappointed in the system. I can't believe that the highway patrol or sherrif's office refused to respond. If I had been traveling with my family or something this could have been very dangerous. But I wasn't and we were safe, warm, we had a little food, plenty of beer and whiskey and a few good movies. Our generator was still running strong so we had power. We were comfortable. Except . . . . the smokers were almost out of smokes. When the going gets tough, the tough start smoking . . . more. After a few hours they were getting desperate and agitated. It was either walk 40 miles, or comb the ditches for butts. Then Jon got an idea. . . . .

breaker . . . breaker, broken down rock band out of smokes, eastbound I 76 on the exit 155 get off ramp. Jon plugged into the original information superhighway. After a few desperate calls, a response. The trucker on the other end was already past, but he said he would relay the message down the road. For the next 30 min we heard a bunch of chatter discussing our plight and then came all call . . . "y'all still looking for smokes?" I'm pulling up behind you. He dropped off a supply and wouldn't even take a penny. I ran back to the bus and grabbed a couple of CDs. I told him to pass the word, so hopefully the we are building a new fan base within the trucking industry.



Wendy and Dallas pulled up just as the sun was starting to rise. what a welcome sight. In a matter of minutes, we were hooked up, loaded up and heading down the road. Leaving our trusty steel horse behind awaiting a tow. Jon took the wheel and piloted us home losing just under a day in the debacle.



THANK YOU WENDY AND DALLAS. We always say we couldn't do it without our fans. This is a prime example.



still waiting for news on the bus. . . . I hope find a way to make it to our upcoming shows.

Love and a rebuilt 6v92Ti detroit deisel engine.

Jason