Hollywood: Rock Of Ages

by Chris Solberg

  Romans

  ULTRA POP TOUR - Champaign, Illinois - Cupkake

  Why do you think I took a shit in the tub? I didn’t, but I was blamed for it. I will confess that I had Pops pull the fire alarm at The Motel 6. I was always blamed for every weird thing that happened because I was usually behind all of the hijinks that occurred around the band. Well every now and again, you could find people that were crazier than you. I was not the only one up to no good.

  We pulled into a small college town located in Illinois called Champaign. This place was ripe and ready to have a good time. We were set to play at one of theaters located downtown. I had never heard of the town, but for some reason I had a really good vibe when I was there. It was Lizzie’s birthday and we were all in a particularly good mood that day. We had our routine down and everything was going smooth as per the plan. I had a friend that I knew from San Diego that had moved to Rockford, Illinois a few years prior. Little did I know that my buddy from San Diego, his name is Ken, would promote the band statewide and our turnout would be enormous.

  Ken and his friends arrived at the theatre where the band was scheduled to play that evening. They asked what motel we were using for the evening. I told Ken the Motel 6 down the street. Ken immediately went over to the motel and reserved a few rooms so he and his friends could stay for the evening. Several hours later, it was show time!During the show, in front of the biggest crowd we had played for the entire tour, we had a birthday cake delivered. The manager of the theatre helped us coordinate a birthday celebration for Lizzie. The cake arrived on stage and the candles were lit and the singing began. Following the “Happy Birthday” singing, Lizzie blew out the candles and without hesitation, I shoved that entire cake into Lizzie’s face. The cake was immediately returned in pieces into my face and hair. Seconds later, there was the largest cake fight I had ever participated in. I had cake everywhere. My guitar was “caked with cake.” I had cake all over my entire body and clothes. The show was not quite over, so I had to play lead guitar with butter frosting all over my hands. I could not get the greasy butter off my hands completely. It was a difficult three songs to play, but probably the most fun you could have with cake.

  After a successful show, we all went back to the hotel room to party the night away. Keep in mind that after a show, I still had most of my stage gear on. Most of the cake had dried and was flaking off of me as I walked around and my eyeliner was smeared and dripping half way down my face, sort of like a melting clown. When we made it back to the motel, I noticed the parking lot was overflowing with fans that somehow beat us to our own hotel room. Every room was booked with people from around the area for the major after-party. I don’t recall ever having so much liquor and beer in one area. This place was overflowing with guys and girls ready to rip the roof off the four story, fully inclosed, Motel 6. I had my buddy Ken hanging around with all of his other friends. I was invited up to his room for beer and food. I accepted and came right up. Into the room I came, oops! This must be the wrong room, because there were approximately 15 people stuffed into this little tiny motel room and none of them were drinking beer or saying a word. I thought this must be the mormon party! Unlucky me, I was in the right room. Ken was kind enough to bring me a cold beer. I think he had a six pack and that was it! I did not say anything to him at the time, but... six beers for 15 people? I learned after a few minutes that all 15 of the people in the room were there to meet me and the rest of the band. These people were not here to drink, they wanted autographs and photos with the band. It was really creepy having everyone sitting and staring at me as if I was some alien from a different planet. The mood finally lightened and people began to ask me questions about the band. It was really cool once I was comfortable. Everyone in the room hung on every word I said and laughed at everything I said. I drank 4 of the 6 beers and finally we were out. Besides, Ken told me there was food up here! I had copped a pretty good buzz from the 4 beers I had slammed in Ken’s motel room. I had several beers at the club also. By now, I was well on my way to a good time, but the beer was gone. Everyone in the motel room was still in major awe, kiss ass mode and wanted to please me. They all thought I was some major rock star with tons of money. I gave them some bullshit story about our manager having all of the bands money and he was off to Chicago for the evening. Everyone in there was saying that everything was cool and they would provide the funds for the evening. Good thing, I don’t think I even had a dollar in my pocket, or anywhere for that matter.

  Ken was about to send one of his sober “I don’t drink” buddies off to make a beer and food run. That sounded good to me. I was looking out the window while the beer run plans were being worked out. I could see a brand new jet black Pontiac Fiero parked outside the motel. I said aloud, “Who owns the Fiero?” Guess who? The non-drinker that was about to make a beer run. Well, there was only room for two, so I told him I would tag along, Besides, I might find something else at the store that I might want for later. Off we went. I don’t think two minutes passed before I was driving that brand new Fiero.

  It was so easy. I told the guy that I should be driving the sports car when we pulled up to the liquor store. It would just look cool, and other people would think he was cool as well. For whatever reason, this moron agreed. Oh, I also told him that he looked way too young to purchase beer and I should do it, (even though I was 19 years old). The spineless, no self confidence dude gave me a wad of cash to purchase the beer. I did a rough estimate, quick scan count of the money and realized there was at least $40.00 that we had collected. In 1989 that could buy a lot of beer. Funny, that was no longer my plan. I was going to purchase maybe $30.00 worth of beer and snacks and keep the change. I was in such a good mood. We had a great show, I was driving a beautiful sports car and I was about to have some extra cash. You see, the person making the beer runs was always thought to have purchased as much beer as he or she could with the collection of money from a group. The fact was that you would purchase a reasonable amount of beer to make everyone happy, and pocket the leftover change. Did you ever have a group of people pool money together, have someone go for a beer run, and then the person that went on the beer run, bring everyone back change? I doubt it.

  I was way too liquored up too be driving any car, but I told him, “That’s ok! I am in a rock band from Hollywood”. For whatever reason, everyone outside California bought that stupid line. You would not believe what type of crap you could get away with in other states. I jumped into the Fiero and hit the gas! Off to the races! The liquor store was not far away and I wanted to test drive this Fiero. As we approached the liquor store, I

  spotted a dirt field adjacent to the store. I felt this was a good time to test my driving skills. I pulled into the dirt field and began doing doughnuts in the dirt. I was having a blast and the poor guy that let me drive his car was timidly telling me that it was probably not a good idea to be off-road in his dads brand new Fiero. I told him that everything would be just fine after he took the car to the car wash the following day and had it detailed. We went into the liquor store to purchase the beer and snacks. I felt the night catching up with me very quick. All the booze had finally hit me and I was buzzed. I remember being inside the liquor store taking bites out of every candy bar and twinkie I could get my drunk paws on. This was slowly draining the beer and snack account. The poor sap that I was with paid for all the damage I did to all the candy and snacks in the area. He even bought the beer and food to bring back to the room. I was up forty bucks and did nothing except cause a ruckus!

  The chump drove me back to the motel because all the booze had smacked me really hard and was causing problems with my driving. I agreed to have him drive us back to the hotel. Once we got back, the party was in full swing. I don’t think this town had ever seen this much action ever. The motel 6 was rockin’. There were parties in just about every room and we were having a good time. I had found the best looking girl I could to spend the evening with. Pops had done the same. The band was all st
aying in the same room for the evening. This was our status quo. I usually shared a bed with Vince Votel and Lizzie shared a bed with Ernie. Pops and I were trying to have some peace and quiet in the band room with the girls that we met. It was now 3:30 in the morning and Vince must have forgotten his key to the room. He began to bang on the door and yell, “let me in you fuckers!” Pops and I stayed very quiet. We both knew that if if Vince came into the room he would ruin all the fun by either throwing the girls out or picking up on both of them. Pops and I were not going to take that chance. Vince kept banging on the door yelling that he knew that we were in the room and to open up. Pops and I kept ignoring Vince’s demand to open the door. Pops and I looked at each other and asked where Ernie and Lizzie were. We quietly laughed and told each other we did not care. Vince pounded on the door for a good 15 minutes before he yelled through the small crack between the door jam and the actual door, “Fuck you guys...I am going down stairs to get an extra key!” Pops and I were desperate. Oh crap! Vince was pissed and he is going to get an extra key. That is going to screw everything up. If he enters the room and sees us sitting here hanging out with some strange girls, he is going to be so pissed off, god only knows what will happen. After the brief silence, Pops got up and looked out the peephole in the door. Pops whispered, “He’s gone.” I told Pops, good, now go out in the hall and find the nearest fire alarm and pull it so we can have some privacy. Pops went down the hall, pulled the fire alarm and calmly walked back and asked if I was happy. The fire alarm was going off and we could hear through the closed door all the ruckus outside the room. We peered out the window and we could see hundreds of people out in the parking lot of the motel. We hung out in the room for a solid 30 minutes while the fire department wandered through the halls, trying to figure out what had happened. Everyone began to filter into the motel after approximately 45 minutes, so we advised the girls to leave and go back to their rooms. Pops and I responded to a less populated part of the motel and walked up with everyone else as if we had also evacuated our room for the past 45 minutes.

  Vince Votel saw Pops and I enter the room just minutes after he did. We lied to him and told him that we were at another room when the fire alarm went off. Vince bought the story and everything was fine. We went to bed without further incident (at least for an hour or so). I had drank everything under the sun for the past 12 hours and here I was sleeping away... dreaming whatever I was dreaming. Now the following story is told from everyone else’s perspective after the fact, after I was berated by the band.

  The room was decorated in a nature setting, with lots of paintings of forests and meadows. I guess I had to pee really bad because I stood up on the bed, walked to the headboard and pulled my pants down. There was a photo of a forest with a stream and a little path along the side of the path in the picture. I stood at the headboard and began urinating on the painting and the headboard of the bed. Well, guess who was sleeping right next to me while I was peeing on the picture and the headboard? Vince Votel. He woke up screaming, “What the fuck are you doing?!!” Vince later told me that as he yelled at me while I was peeing on the headboard of the bed, I stood there and shook my head with a “yes” nod, eyes squinted, saying, “Dude, dude, duuuuuude!” Vince told me that I seemed very content peeing on the photo as if I was in some forest in the middle of nowhere. I think I would be upset if I were the one that had to put up with this crap. I guess Vince never knew that he would have to endure my urine twice in one tour. I hardly recall this incident. I do remember waking up staring at a painting of a forest while Vince yelled at me. From that day forward, I had to share a bed with Lizzie. I did not mind, I would probably pee on Lizzie next!

  TMZ - Vinnie Vegas

  When Vince Votel moved to LA, he told everyone how he lived in Hollywood. Well, he had actually moved to North Hollywood which was nowhere near the real thing. Both Cupkake and I didn’t want to end up in some indescript town like El Segundo or Downey, if we were going to do it, we wanted to do it right. After visiting Hollywood a lot, we decided that we wanted to live in the middle of Hollywood proper. We ended up laying a big map of LA on the floor and drawing a huge circle in yellow highlighter around Hollywood. We made it a pact to find an apartment within that circle we drew, and not settle for less. Coincidently, if you took that map and measured the area of that circle, it probably would have come out pretty close to thirty square miles. We had inadvertently created our very own thirty mile zone 20 years before Harvey Levin came up with his hit website and TV show. The concept still remains true to this day. There is an unwritten zone, a TMZ, and within that circle, most of the action exists. Harvey knows to send his paparazzi out into that zone to find the best film. Within that zone are all the hot-spots as well as the trusted low-profile hangouts that stars have come to frequent. We lived smack in the middle of that zone. Sure some of the names have changed, but it’s surprising to see how many places are still there!

  There’s no way that I can describe the utter excitement I felt when we first moved to Hollywood. I had a constant feeling of butterflies in my stomach that didn’t go away for over a year. We tried to act like savvy rock stars as opposed to tourists, but it was true, something about that town really captivated people, and I was no different. I guess it’s all the history and glamour of the place, that would be easy to say, but something else about the place really held your imagination. I can’t tell you what it was like to walk down a neighborhood street in a sleeveless shirt, feeling the warm California sun on your skin. For me that excitement was there, but even more, it was the knowing feeling that I had somehow accomplished what I had always wanted. I told myself that no matter what did or didn’t happen, I could rest easier later in life knowing that at least I got a shot at it. Something that had eluded people from all over the country. For that entire first summer, every day I pinched myself to make sure this was real. If you’ve ever gotten a new car, you know what a thrill it is to simply drive it around. A new apartment has the same feel and indeed the top of the pinnacle is having a new girlfriend. I’m trying to illustrate a point here, check that, I’m trying to illustrate an emotion the best I can. Even those in long, stable relationships remember the excitement that existed when you first met. Work was cool, friends were cool, and life was cool. That content warm feeling inside and the smile on your face is priceless. And that’s the feeling I had that summer. So did I fall in love with Hollywood? I guess so!

  In our zone were various landmarks that became very familiar to us. Within blocks were places like El Compadre, a Mexican restaurant on Sunset that was unpretentious and a great place to take a girl when you had to watch your bucks. The place was dark and had red leather booths with candles burning in the center. For me it was what a Mexican restaurant was supposed to look like. They featured a huge margarita with flaming 151 rum burning inside a hollowed out lime in the center. Now that’s cool! There was also Toi Thai that always had a large throng of people huddled around the door on weekends. This place had really good Thai food and played music as loud as you have ever heard in a Thai restaurant. It was decorated like an indie punk record store and it was one of those places where you went mostly to be seen. We went there because, how many good Thai restaurants do you know that are within walking distance? Locals called it the Neon Nip because of the large purple neon cartoon Asian guy face hanging in the window. That sign stayed on all night even after it was closed.