.....What in hell's bells are we going to wear??? 
 
The band didn't even really bring any 'outfits'; we assumed we would step out of our hotel the day before the show and there would be street vendors holding up the perfect L.A./AMA rock-and-roll outfit. I'm mean it's Melrose for pete's sake. They made a TV show about it. Picking an outfit with a few hours of time is harder than it would seem. It was the AMAs after all, and we didn't want to look like either the "Shiny New Eager Beaver Band" or the "Weekend Warrior Street Clothes Rockers". Most of us opted for wearing our rumpled suitcase clothes with maybe a new top or something. Scott looked the most rockin'; he has two rockin' sisters who dressed him though, so that's not fair. Jordan was pretty no-fuss about it too: Hit a shop, pick a shirt or two, done. Terry and Carter bought some stuff that would later get the axe, in favor of the old stuff. I walked around with L.A. Christine looking for that special something, whatever it was. I settled for a hooded sweater that was too much friggin' VA dollars and my own pants. I also bought a red belt just because. Wore my own pants and had some better shoes on that weren't my fav. boots. I will save those for the grammies. Blah Blah, this is boring. Moving on. 
 
That night we were shuttled to rehearsals at The Shrine. The band went early to make sure the gear we'd requested was all in order. I came later at the tale-end of Lenny Kravitz' sound check, which the band was already watching. Lenny was loud. Sounded good though...that song is catchy for sure. When it got quiet Scott yelled "Yo Lenny, we used to play 'Are You Gonna Go My Way?' !" This didn't happen but it would've been funny. The band caught Cher's rehearsal and said it was, umm, all taped. Not that that's a big secret or anything. Kid Rock did his check after us and so we got to see...like....you know...his dancers and stuff. And the General Lee. That was cool. 
 
This is when we backed up into P. Diddy. It was pretty dark and he was just sitting on a crate or something and he said, "Hey, I'm Sean" and shook hands. And we said, "Omigod! Duhhh. We knoeww who you arre...." We were cooler than that. Terry introduced himself as Sweet T and Scott as Little Bud E. And, before you know it, we were 'down'. or something. 
 
But he was a rather nice fellow. Ah showbiz....it's all smoke and mirrors, y'know. 
 
I should've written this sooner, as details are escaping me. My Apologives, but things have been busy.  
 
When we were done, it was time to go back and get to bed. The AMA's will be tomorrow and we need some good rest. Unfortunately, that wouldn't happen; 4am comes early, and that's when the East Coast Radio 7am drive time interviews would be. This nearly killed me. Not a good thing to do on the biggest day of your career....ah well. So radio interviews were from 4 to 8am. I went back to bed, wired of course, and slept from about 9:30-10:15am and it was shower and lobby call at 11am to head to the AMAs. 
 
At some point we got about 300 balloons, champagne, cards, wires and such from various well-wishers. Thank you!~ At 11am we come down to the Lobby and load up in our stretch Lincoln Navigator. It was White. It was long. It was pretty cool. On the ride we listen to the recording of the Boxer from last night's performance (they burned a cd of the rehearsal for us) and we realized we may be in trouble. We put it out of our heads and before we know it we're at the gate where beefy security gaurds scoul, and misc. fans wave as we drive in - not knowing who we are, for they can't see us - assuming we are someone important. 
 
This is about the point where all the Whisking begins. Once we get out, we are whisked through security, then whisked to run-throughs and final rehearsals, whisked past all the artists RVs and P. Diddy's SEMI RV (not as in 'Half an RV', but as in 'Its a Tractor Trailer RV'), then we get whisked to our OWN styling RV. We sit and wait and warm up and eat free stuff and people whisk in and out of the RV asking if we need anything. Of course we don't because we've been spoiled rotten already beyond belief. We even try and think up stuff to need and can't. Heather whisks in and she's our publicist for the AMAs and she's great and we feel at ease. We change and are whisked to photos and interviews. And eventually whisked to.... 
 
THE RED CARPET, BABY. 
 
Oh yeah...slow-mo catwalkin' leaf. Here is where everyone you see on tv and cable are...the guy from E, the girl from Entertainment Tonight, the guy from CNN, a bunch of others. Pretty neat. All asked us questions just like everyone else. All the photographers were behind them going "Guys up here...one more...thank you....guys down here, to the left..." Face is hurting from smiling....we move down the runway. more of same. We travel in a tight pack, so photos can be snapped. We look funny walking this way. it's like we're in a 3 legged race, or a 5 legged race. We look like we really like each other. Howard Stern's guy starts asking questions, only I don't realize it's Howard Stern's guy: "Who inspired you early on? What artists are you looking forward to seeing? Who is more responsible for the troubles in America, Blacks or Mexicans?" 
 
Wha...??? It's noisy, did I hear him correctly? Finally it catches on that's it's Howard and his schtick. A few more similar questions were fired and I may have inadvertantly called him an asshole and we moved on. 
 
Inside more photos and a press conference style Q&A. We inform everyone that this is our last show, and are whisked away to the trailer again. And finally our seats. It's a grand place for sure. 7,000 seats and all kinds of people you recognize. We found our families sitting in the balconies and turned and waved and and they were all cryin' and stuff and, since we were sitting in the artist section down front, people must have thought we were Someone, but couldn't figure out who. Two socialite-type ladies sipping on some champagne(s) throughout the night finally got their noses in our stuff and started grousing "who are you guys!?" We told them and they were pretty sweet once we put their minds at ease that we didn't slip in under their radar. They drink more. 
 
The show went on and I realized I didn't know alot of people on that stage. Time to start buying some cds, I guess. I think I referred to Suge Knight as Coolio. Whoops. I will keep my mouth shut.  
 
I'm on the aisle seat and Nikki Taylor walks right by and she DOESN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME! Omigod....I can't believe she didn't even look at me. 
 
Cheryl Crowe is tiny. She looks quite yummy. She doesn't look at me either.  
 
Jenny McCarthy does not look at me. 
 
So I read the program manual and there we are with a picture in the bulletin. This is when it dawned on me that we were at the American Music Awards and that we were winning one, like it or not. And oh yeah, we've got to play at some point tonight. 
 
Blah Blah, the show starts. Dick Clark is on the intercom telling everyone to find their seats and categories are announced, people win. You cannot hear ANYTHING at these shows because the fans in the top balcony scream inncessantly and it drowns out the people at the podium COMPLETELY. This is for TV honey.... 
 
Whisking of CL commences about 1/3 into the show and we head to the trailer and warm up. Here we go.... 
 
45 minutes later we're whisked to the backstage area and await our cue to get out there and find our places during the commercial. Here we go..... 
 
Boom. There's the cue. We're rushed out. 50 stage hands rush the stage. They roll away the last act's stage gear - everything is clamped down on rolling platforms. Our stuff is rolled in, set in place and secured. The mic stands go up. Jordan at this point walks on with a different bass (a Lakland that he secured that very day in quite a bit of impressive Star Power Leverage: "Yeah, I'm with Carbon Leaf and we're performing on the AMA's tonight and I'd like to play your bass and I don't want to pay for it."). At this point the commercial break is about 20 seconds from being over when the sound man FLIPS OUT! "You can't bring that out here, it's not what you sound checked with." Jordan sweats, I turn white. Heads spin. "Are you serious?" jordan asks, assuming he's kidding. "I'm serious as a heartattack!!!" Gulp. 10.9.8.7.....time stands still - like in the Matrix - and bullets are flying past us in slow motion and I yell "NOOOOOOOOO" as I arch backwards and my voice reverberates and is deep like a lion and some lights flash and then there's only silence except for the beating of my heart and people are running in slow motion past me and some nobs are turned and jordan plugs into to something and some lights blink and a few sound people give some nods in the affirmative. And.... 
 
In 3....2.....1..... 
 
We're back on the air. Carbon Leaf is in place center stage and on stage left are some pimps in green jump suits holding up goblets. We stay there for a few minutes in plain view of the audience, but the TV viewing audience doesn't see this because camera angles are good like that. Then the AMA Retrospective video montage pops up right above us, but you still can't see us. We're kind of watching it crescendo, getting pumped up and it's a perfect anticipation builder because the music gets faster and higher on the scale and the images get faster and then BOOOM. It's over. And out come Sheryl Crowe and Lit. 
 
They do a great job introducing us. And here we go. We start, hearing things is weird. Everyone plays great. Terry looks and sings like Blackbeard. I sing sharp through the first verse and chorus but just jump around and do my thing. "She is the Boxer..." Cross, stage left, Point....Whoops, Britney is not in her seat, so I point to the seat filler who is occupying it. "He is the Boxer...." Cross, staqe right, Point.....Whoops, Michael is not in HIS seat. So I point to the filler who is in it. Bummer. Moving on. Out comes the tin whistle. A cheap gag that gets a good response. Whew. OK, things are rolling along. We do our thing. Jump around have a good time. Rockin' Mama. Rock Star Ring out, Shout Out, Jump up. Song over. Big applause..some standing ovation. Tyreese (sp) being the first. .We tricked them! Sally Field jumped up and said "They like you! They REALLY like you....". 
 
Whisked away, we were. Left my hat on stage. Gone forever. Terrell says thanks to Cheryl: Dear in the headlights. 
 
Hang backstage. Miss Kiss. Wait some more. Return to seats to catch Michael come out and point at me and shouts in a falsetto "Whooooooo!" And moon walks off. 
 
Lickity split, the show is DONE. Everyone ups and outs. Lit comes over to meet us after the show and are the coolest guys. And, hey guys, we appreciate that....if they're staying up late gushing over our website. 
 
More photos and press. Everyone's feeling great. At this point it's the best moment in our career and maybe lives...at least way up there. The pressure is off. After an hour or so, we head to the afterparty. Meet some cool people and have a good time. Blah blah.... 
 
I'm sitting here thinking now about the continued hard work it is still taking us all to make sense of the supposed next level. We've had some phenomenal shows these past few weeks and INCREDIBLE support from all of you. We've sold out 4 shows and some, gotten the Boxer on some radio.... What a great start to a hopefully great year. 
 
The AMA trophies came in yesterday. Mine - and we each get one - is sitting on the desk staring at me going, "uh, get to work. I'm just a hunk of glass if you guys don't play your cards right." 
 
This is pretty true...so these past 4 weeks have been hellish and crucial and nerve wracking and I have a stress blister on my damned lip. But I can't complain, for good things ARE happening and who can stress about that? We're looking forward to this year for sure, and will keep you up to date. Please follow us along this crazy journey wherever it may lead; we know it takes energy and hard work to stay with a band as you go about your own lives, but we, in return, will continue to work hard at making music we feel we should.