So here I sit in my little quarantine drinking gallons of water and watching reruns of Andy Milonakis on MTV. I’m not supposed to go anywhere or do anything until someone knows what ails me (I sure don’t), and I can’t call anyone because my voice is the faint, gravelly whisper of death. Fun.

            Pathetically unable to conduct any phone interviews at the present time, I’ve stuck to my resources and tweaked the zine to be its best. I’m also searching for September interviews, which look fairly promising so far.

But who knows? Maybe I have some mutated strand of the Black Plague and you’ll see me on international television programming tomorrow morning. Hey, it’ll be more attention-getting than these drab old reruns, right? “Ring around the rosy…”

On a lighter note, I had the privilege of attending the Schoolyard Heroes/Bayside/Vendetta Red show at the Grog Shop in Cleveland a couple weeks ago. What a treat!

Being on the guest list, I just walked right in and everyone there was more than hospitable. Sooner than later, I ran into Zach Davidson, lead singer for Vendetta Red and a particularly good acquaintance of mine.

After exchanging greetings and hugs, he guided me “backstage”—a neon orange room filled with random musicians, free nachos, and a few mediocre davenports. (Ha-ha, those are fancy words for kind-of-okay couches.)

The members of Vendetta Red were especially kind (considering I brought cookies and their latest Dominant Allele article), but I’m pretty certain they’re always gentlemen like that. Each guy brings his own unique dimension to the band, from the quiet and well-prepared to the sweet and outgoing to the humble yet endearingly quirky banshee. (Ah, my friend the banshee.) Vendetta Red are honestly above their league in so many departments.

They also introduced me to Ryann Donnelly and Jonah Bergman of Schoolyard Heroes. Although they were kind as well, they seemed somewhat exhausted so I decided to leave them alone.

I decided to get up, wander around the small venue, and even get some pictures from the mosh pit as the Schoolyard Heroes set finally commenced. Ryann, who had donned a flamingo pink dress and fishnets, began to sing and the 100+ spectators seemed enthralled by her piercing vocals and unique brand of showwomanship. I was certainly impressed by the Seattle quartet; their set exceeded my expectations, and Jonah even added humor by barking at the crowd that the band members were “going next door for frozen custard after the show and someone in the audience should volunteer to pay for it.”

The Schoolyard Heroes exited the stage, and the Bayside set quickly began. My eardrums needed a break, so I again went backstage to see how my Vendetta Red pals were faring before their set. Taking a few pictures and thanking me profusely for the cookies, they soon ran out the door to go warm up and consume mass quantities of energy drinks.

Somewhat disappointed that I was the only one left in the room, I sat on one of the couches and half-listened to Bayside, waiting for someone to return and keep me company. Shortly thereafter, someone entered with whom I was not yet acquainted.

I soon learned that he was Matt “the sound guy,” but that was about all I learned before it seemed we ran out of things to talk about. Fortunately, the silence didn’t last long because humans are naturally inquisitive and I really wanted to know what being “the sound guy” entails.

He explained that it involves putting up/tearing down the sets, working with all the microphones and balance, PA systems, and many other things, some of which one wouldn’t generally think. He also explained that he attended sound school “and even got a certificate. Hey, that counts, right?”

A few minutes later, another individual entered the room who introduced himself as Steve “the photographer who knows Burke [Thomas, Vendetta Red’s current drummer].” Matt left to fix a few glitches before Vendetta Red’s headlining set, so I started a conversation with Steve about his photography gig and involvement with the band.

Since he wasn’t too familiar with the band’s history, I eagerly gave him the condensed version. (Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that condensed.) He seemed mildly interested, though, considering he was following the caravan to the next day’s Cincinnati stop.

Forgetting that Steve was a photographer, I asked him if he wanted to look at the pictures I’d taken so far on my digicam to better explain who’s exactly who in Vendetta Red. Suddenly remembering this fact, I was thoroughly embarrassed and I quickly added, “My pictures aren’t that good…”

“Well, that doesn’t matter as long as you know what they are, right?” he told me. And even though it was just a polite way of agreeing with me, his statement made me think. Not about anything in particular, just kind of think and be optimistic about the human race. (Okay, Aristotle, enough of that.)

The Bayside set concluded (what I heard of it sounded pretty good) but I decided to stay backstage longer because the set change would take awhile.

Jonah from Schoolyard Heroes came into the room again, eyeing up the cookies I’d brought. He proceeded to set some on top of the article I’d written because it was also sitting on the food table for whatever reason. I got upset (it had taken me awhile to write the article,) moved the cookies, and went, “WHAT are you doing??”

Surprised, he went, “What did you do to my cookies?!” Laughing, I explained what happened, jumping up on my tiptoes and saying, “I’m bigger than you and higher on the food chain!” (He’s 6-foot-eighty-four, I swear.)

As though on cue, he inquired, “I can still eat the cookies, right?”

“I don’t care.”

“Cool, well thanks then!” And so concluded our mildly amusing encounter. We snapped a couple pictures and then I ran out the door because the Vendetta Red set was starting and I had a great surprise up my sleeve.

The set began like any other, and soon I was shouting back each lyric with every ounce of my being as Zach Davidson was already boldly swinging from the tiny venue’s ceiling beams. Although the crowd was relatively small, they were certainly attentive, and even the members of Bayside and Schoolyard Heroes were watching their headlining tourmates and interacting with fans during the set. I was introduced to Vendetta Red tracks I hadn’t heard before (my personal favorite was the lyrically potent “Vendetta Red Cried Rape on Their Date with Destiny”) and was delighted with favorites of albums past.

Near the end of the set, the song “Opiate Summer” began and Zach pulled me up onstage, introducing me as the new Vendetta Red tambourinist. (You see, I’d talked to him a few days before the show and he’d told me to bring a tambourine because I was going onstage—and he was serious.) Sharing a mic with new guitarist Leif Andersen, I danced around until my roughly four minutes of fame were over.

It was a magical thing, being on a stage with more than 100 pairs of eyes looking up and singing along to songs that I’ve loved since they first graced my ears. Even though the spectators weren’t there to see me, I’m an honorary member of the band so they had no choice. (Ha-ha-ha.) But there was an undeniable sense of electricity on the stage that gave me the most extraordinary feeling. If I weren’t so into the journalism aspect of this scene, I might try my hand at playing permanent tambourine somewhere. Call me “auxiliary percussion,” I suppose.

I reluctantly meandered offstage and back into the crowd to experience the mosh pit before I had to make the 2.5-hour trek back to Pittsburgh. The scene was truly magical as I stated before; Vendetta Red has a most enthralling stage presence. Each member always appears to be in a musically-induced trance.

Before exiting the venue, I asked the guys of Vendetta Red for some words about the show so I could write some form of article about it (you’re reading it.) Guitarist Justin Cronk couldn’t think of anything, or so he claimed, so we agreed that his “declining to comment” sounded relatively amusing. So, viewers of this editorial, Mr. Cronk has declined to comment on his personal thoughts of the show’s status at the Grog Shop in Cleveland, Ohio.

I bid farewell to the band as well as new acquaintances, and got in the car to drive the pothole-ridden toll roads towards home. A word to the wise: use Ohio rest stops, not Pennsylvania ones. I am not kidding in the least.

Until next time,