Further to my last post, this is what I learned as a promoter's mother:
First of all, in my own home I was asked, "Do you work for Spry Bry (his professional name)? No, I'm his mother. Like this is his house and I'm his employee. I guess motherhood feels that way sometimes.
Band members, touring in a bus with nine bunks for eight hours, having had their sleep interrupted by immigration for 2 1/2 hours at the border, get grumpy. I would, too.
Band bus drivers, especially ones who have done it for an entire career, have very interesting stories.
I can communicate efficiently in Franglish. That's French, Spanish and English, a requirement in this situation. It was an exhausting proposition.
Band's contract riders contain interesting items such as 30 white cotton newly laundered towels (mostly onstage sweat towels), the equivalent of 10 drinks (beer, good wine, and specific brands of rum and vodka) each, water only in plastic bottles and wine glasses only made of glass so I guess it's not about breakage...reasonable requests compared to the stories you hear. One famous group always asked for bowls of M&M's with the brown ones removed. It was supposedly a test of the promoter's attention to detail.
Negotiations continue throughout the day and everything is negotiable: sound equipment, food, accommodation. It gets heated at times.
Communication counts. Get it in writing or as they said way back when, when I was in grad school "If it ain't documented it didn't happen. Thank goodness the boy kept e-mails that came in handy in resolving above disputes. The only bedroom that I had to give up was for the bus driver and his wife, who sleep while the band is engaged in sound checks and the concert itself. After everything is sung and done they board the bus at 2:00a.m., off to the next stop on the tour.
When it came to what really matters, the band's performance was amazing, they were true professionals:
And the boy, Mr. Spry Bry, with a sold out venue, came through unscathed. So did his mom.