I was walking through the woods in Wisconsin this past weekend and had visions of Casey at a show in Duluth in the summer of 2000, coated in gelatinous salve and sweat. Oh, that you, too, could have my visions.
The story goes that Casey, the self-proclaimed wilderness man, the boyscout, was in the woods in 2000 with some pals, and one of them told him not to touch a plant. It was poison ivy.
But Casey, having far more experience than any of his friends, said that it really wasn't poison ivy. And to prove it, Casey did the only thing Casey would do: he rubbed the plant all over his face and body.
We never had so many laughs at Casey's expense in the tour van after Casey turned red and puffed up like a corn pop. It took about three gigs for the stuff to go away, but I'll never forget Casey toweling off after every set and then applying more salve. I guess we all learned a lesson that time.
