Shawn "GUS" Vitale: Wash. DC Production Viking- Rest with the Best
GUS!!!... or as everybody knew him, well, GUS!!! Ok, if we're gonna go with the whole birth name thing, it's Shawn Vitale. But really, it's Gus. Gus was our viking. We would tell him that from time to time, and I personally regret never putting the appropriate helmet on his dome for the ultimate keepsake photo. When I say "our" or "we" I mean myself and my guys who knew him as a collective. Gus was a viking, because he would charge into a situation and completely conquer... AND AGAIN, we always thought his head would be at home in one of those classic helmets. I can honestly say that I never knew anybody like him.
To define our group, it starts with the Wash. DC bands combinationLOCK, which eventually morphed into evenout, over the course of 2002-2006. Local bands working into regional bands and shooting for the next stage in the business. The end game included just Doug, Jason, Maurice, Van and then myself trying to steer that pickup truck. With the bands being from DC, the main landing spot for the impactful live spectacle experience was expectedly the 9:30 Club, which likewise happened to be one of the prestigious big-boy clubs in the country. With hard work and working the angles, we were able to score some nice gigs at this establishment over the years. A few staffers at the club took to the bands, but one of them respected the unit a little more than the others. That was head soundman, ultimately becoming head of production, Shawn "GUS" Vitale. The same guy who rode his motorcycle an hour each way to the venue every day and night. Needless to say, with our crew, he struck up a professional friendship that would ultimately evolve into a personal friendship.
There became a point when Gus was willing to run sound for some of our bigger shows/events at other locations in the area. Sooner than later, he showed interest in occasionally heading out of town for a long weekend, as a life change of pace, so why not partake in sound control for some of our tour dates in NYC, Phila, Asbury Park, Dewey Beach, Baltimore, Charlottesville, Raleigh, Charlotte, Spartanburg, Columbia, and Atlanta. Well, mostly on the "higher impact" performance trips, of course. In due course, he would occasionally de-facto tour manage, probably not because we asked him to, but because he was Gus. It was in his DNA. All of this was a fantastic advantage to have, not singularly due to his skills, but also the respect he commanded from other promoters and venues along the east coast. The 9:30 did carry some cachet, and he was a professional's professional who treated everybody with equal respect, and with a good heart... even in difficult circumstances.
Whenever the road reached Atlanta, GA, my house was the crashing destination, with my handsome rottie Atlas up for a hearty greeting. With every arrival, Gus would have first dibs at the extra bedroom (well I personally offered him first dibs, and it was my dwelling, so...), but I don't think he ever seized it. It was repeatedly, just throw down the blow-up mattress or carve me out some couch. He never wanted to impose. He obviously got along with my wife quite well. That was a given. We looked forward to seeing Gus as much as the band, when he was able to ride south, that is.
My absolute favorite memory of Gus will eternally bring deep-down-in-the-gut laughter. Doug was a witness, and he would most likely agree. In 2005, the band evenout scored another slot on The Rock Boat, large sold-out music cruise with some very accomplished talent. Without a doubt, Gus would be riding that big ship cruiser with us for four days.
After a successful Friday night performance, we arrived at the doomed Saturday at sea. It was hardcore storming and this big transport was rocking with the sea, and I don't mean with music. No bands were scheduled yet, as it was still early in the day. Nobody could be outside on the boat. Around 1:00 in the afternoon, with most of the band doods scattered all over our present floating universe, Doug, Gus and myself belly up to the promenade bar, where Pat McGee is keeping people company, alone with his guitar strumming and a handful of songs. Outside, we could see the stacks of production gear near the deck, although covered, trying it's best to weather the weather. I was getting a tad bored, being cooped up inside for a long while, I decided "bartender, three coladas!" In most other circumstances in life, this would be rather embarrassing. Actually, in this scenario, it did remain mildly embarrassing. I accepted our immediate drinking fate. Doug accepted his immediate drinking fate. Gus, on the other hand, refused his colada opportunity out of shear manhood. His masculinity will not go down on that Saturday, no matter how mentally and physically dire our present state. After conversing and simultaneously hearing about 10 min of Pat McGee background, I ask Doug, where the hell did Gus go? Our third colada was getting gamey and according to me, it was his destiny to give it one sip!
We proceeded to instantly look out the window onto the main deck area outside, and there is Gus fighting the extreme elements, climbing stacks of amplifiers, waiting to be struck by low flying lounge chairs. He looked like a long shore fisherman, fighting the perfect storm, finally pulling THE BIG ONE out of the ocean. Holy shit, I almost hit the floor with laughter and my half colada. Nah, we weren't concerned, because vikings were built for this shit. What an unforgettable visual. Because he apparently believed the amplifier covers were not secure enough, he took it upon himself to scale the production mountain and conquer. This situation will not go negative. Not today. Not on his watch. Important note; there was clearly a full crew on board to handle these issues. Gus was on board to run sound for the band and kick his feet up otherwise. He innately decided, I should spring into action. For those four days, the production company (Sixthman) also became his temporary family, and he was handling the household.
YOU HAVE TO GET IT BY NOW. THIS WAS GUS! But one day, our band lives found their expiration.
During the following post-band years, Gus always did his best to stay generous, however he could. Guest list at the club, free drink at the bar, stop by for a BBQ or meet out for dinner. Rarely would I trip to Wash. DC without a stop at the 9:30 to say "what up Gus?!" and provide a proper dap... even if we weren't attending a show there. Every landing in District of Columbia would include ... 1) a stay at Doug's house ... 2) hey do we have time to swing by and say hi to Gus (no matter the social schedule) ... 3) then whatever else we had planned or unplanned for a few days. He got to know Doug's wife and kids over the years, as they became better friends. When Gus was going through cancer treatments, Doug and his wife, Kathleen, helped with house and transport, whenever needed. You know what that is? That is how it's done. Gus era familia.
I have big love for Gus. I sometimes ask myself; how did you have that love for someone you still feel like you didn't know as well as you should? I don't know, but I did. I guess I loved him because he genuinely and unconditionally had our backs. For you "young people" out there, understand that you will rarely run into this type of person through life's travels, so appreciate it and keep hold.
The next time I fly up to DC, and stop by the 9:30 Club, I will unquestionably feel a hollow sensation. It will probably take the whole night to register. I already get a little weird thinking about it right now.
I was so glad I was able to visit with Gus during the final stages of his sickness, and thankfully with a few of my band guys as friends. I am positive I will look back on that evening and think, that was fucking difficult, correct and damn worth its weight in gold. When I recently found out about Gus' passing, I was very sad that day. I was exceedingly depressed, mostly thinking about nothing, just feeling. It was just about how terrible it was that we didn't have Gus anymore. It was tough to shake. The next day, I swear it was a 180-degree shift. Thoughts and memories were flooding into my head, and my mood completely changed. It was my personal celebration, and I am going to leave it like that. Gus would be pretty pissed off if the lot of us were any other way.
Funny truth... I know I will leave this earth jealous of Gus, because I am sure I won't be remembered in the same light.
