friday, september 28, 2012 - ballard, wa


from tom:

   in the beginning, as usual, the pressure to get out the door is high. all of my thoughts bottleneck, but i know that once i'm on the i-5 i will feel less stressed. raul and i have a 3 day drive before we picking mike at sea-tac and play our first show in ballad, north seattle,. we've done this drive together before, but this is the first time that we'll do it at the beginning of a tour, instead of at the end. in a way, it feels like it might be a good way to get into tour mode this way. raul picks me up at my folks place in manhattan beach and we wave goodbye and start our odyssey. the drive is relatively simple, straight north, and we pretty much just talk the whole way to sacramento. listening to dead moon a couple times along the way. we make it to concepcion's place by 6 and spend some time hanging out with her and her sweet daughter, carmella. it's a warm evening and when mario gets home a little while later and we chat while concepcion makes some tatsty pasta and salad. we drink a couple bottles of wine and hit the sack in their back house like we usually do. i have a good sleep and then i'm awakened by carmella jumping on the bed and get up to say goodbye to carmella and mario. conception, raul and i walk to get some breakfast and get back on the road by 11. thanks conception (and fam). we decide to just get as far as we can, not push too hard, and find a motel for the night. it's hot and we stop at lake shasta to stretch our legs and look at the clear water. we continue on past medford and stop in a town called roseburg. we grab a bite at a mexican place called dos amigos, so we figured that makes sense. food: 5.3, vibe: 8.7, accessibility: 9.2. back at our little room we watch a nature program about houses that little creatures build.. beavers, termites, ants, etc. then we sleep. the next step is to get to portland, i hear from my friend kyle and try to figure our eta so we can cross paths. it turns out that we get to stay at our friend eric's place where we'll stay when we come back through to play portland on saturday, and amazingly kyle lives two blocks from there. raul and i get to eric's and roll up t-shirts for a few hours, then walk to a street fair and meet kyle and check out the sights and sounds, and odors. kyle makes us some food at his place, we listen to music, talk and then we head back to eric's to get some sleep. tomorrow morning we pick up mike at at the airport.

   our timing is perfect today, we exit portland at 8am and stop at our first subway of the tour near the sea-tac airport to wait for mike to land. he calls from the plane right when we're ordering and we eat and wait for him to get through customs, and we pick him up a few minutes later. all is well, everything works out right, but mike is sick and that's a little bit of a bummer. however, the most important thing is that we're all safe and together now, and the tour can begin. we arrive early to the venue and raul and i walk around as mike writes and rests in the van. we find a pho place and have a couple bowls and bring some back for mike. terry p. is doing sound for us tonight, that's great. it's nice to see him and we have a chat. we play with a cool band named the hounds of the wild hunt, it's a good turn out. we aren't in our tour rhythm yet so we have a slowish load out and head to sandy and steve's to get some rest. tired.

   mood: 7.3, health: 8.3, energy: 8.6



from watt:

   here we go w/a final go 'round of my third opera and what a trippy way to start it. last i played w/tom and raul was six days ago in ktown in l.a. and it wasn't even "hyphenated-man" but the tunes i had the band train ourselves for this piece. the next day i had to fly to paris for two europe gigs w/the stooges which wild mindblows like they always are - love the stooges. love my men too. actually I had a buttload of stress cuz of the sitch - I had tom and raul take the boat (my slang for my ford econoline van) 1150 miles north to sea-tac airport to collect my ass for the gig tonight. I had them leave wednesday so they could do it in three easy chunks and not get beat up. the funny thing (well, maybe not funny but let's say ironic) is I'm the one starting the tour all beat up! I think at the ktown gig someone infected me (not on purpose) cuz sure enough three days later when I was in paris, I woke up from konk feeling cold but the pillow soaked my sweat, damn. wednesday in firenze I spieled for so many hours during after the most righteous italiano chow I lost my fucking voice! it was then I realized I had a sickness, what a low-learning baka I am, crimony. heavy on me too was worrying whether a flight would fuck up and I'd miss my men or maybe there'd be something w/them (they sent reports of their travel status that helped me much fight that worry)... so much weight lifted when I saw my boat coming to the 'port w/them in it, raul at the wheel. tom had a subway tuna sandwich for me, righteous - first one of this tour which might be the last go 'round for my third opera.

   the weather very nice and pedro like, it's about an hour from where we are to ballard in the north part of seattle. of course it's I-5 most the way but there's some surface street - man, does gps make things so much more happening w/this stuff than in the old days! I feel weak. so am on the backbench. no parking but after some circles we find a place a few blocks away and as tom and raul wander, I stay in the boat and chimp stooges diary. I can feel fever, damn.

   when loadin time comes, we can pull in the back of the pad we're playing tonight, the "tractor tavern" and damn if the soundman ain't my old buddy terry pearson who's a former texas cat who I first met at the "continental club" in austin and then he was a soundman in middle fIREHOSE days - brother steve reed will tell you terry taught him much. I love this man. I meet the openers, local cats called hounds of the wild hunt and have a good spiel w/their bassman ryan about, well, bass... james jamerson, carol kaye, etc. he's good people. I go to the boat to konk and chow the chicken pho soup tom and raul got me at a vietnam restaurant so it's that style w/jalapeno peppers in it. damn is it good. I konk hard.

   the hounds are a good band. there's a good crowd, folks came to see the gig - could've been a character builder (I was told) but the folks came and they brought much heart, respect. the tractor has great sound and happening room to work. the gig on my part is a little difficult - a little?! hell, I started burning up w/fever and some parts of the piece were totally beyond my mind as it would zone out for a second or two, damn. I'd rebound and get it back together but I gotta tell you I'd be bullshitting if I said there were no clams. I mean we know this opera better than we ever have but damn if it a challenge to mean w/this sickness. now my lungs ain't full of shit but my throat sore from that massive yammer in firenze I did like a baka. the "antlered-man" part had me spacing on the whole chorus bass part 'til the last go-around, oh man! we kept the piece coherent though and the momentum carried me through the clammage. thank god for tom and raul... and the gig-goers cuz they all helped me much, so much. the encores were weak cuz we're trying new stuff but I blow a solo bass part in an old minutemen tune we put in - what?! I wrote it like thirty years ago! the fever, fuck. we get done and I sling from the stage, again folks so kind - the first time I've slung music ever. I do a little spiel w/a nice cat named andy who was actually at sst in the old days for a little while - ain't that a trip?

   we head on over to old buddy sandy and her man steve's pad to konk - so many times we've konked w/her, MUCH respect. we have a good good time, konking at like three! couldn't help it, guess the adrenaline kicked in but I got hosed off and into the rilakkuma nightwear quick as possible. sandy washed them levis I had worn from sunday except for the stage outfits for the stooges gig and the flannel I'm wearing every gig this tour - it's the "mike watt flannel" altamont apparel is gonna bring out next month. they asked me to come up w/ideas for what I like in a flannel and I picked the colors from the one I'm wearing on the "double nickels on the dime" cover cuz that was my favorite. I added stuff like snaps and a yoke plus other stuff I'm particular about when it comes to flannels. like I said, we had a good time and I konk happy. damn, can't believe I made that half away around the world connect w/my men. I sure am grateful for that, whew. the tour's underway...






saturday, september 29, 2012 - portland, or


from tom:

   i wake early to a siren going by, i feel more tired now than when i went to bed, i strongly dislike that. i know that i need to just get up and get my body moving so i shower and go for a short walk around around the neighborhood and clear my head a little. sandy makes us a great breakfast and we hang and talk with her and steve for a while before we have to go to portland. i like the doug fir, it's a nice room and an easy load in. there's also a good restaurant upstairs and raul and i eat and wait to play. i see my friends kyle, bill and greg. i like portland.

   mood: 7.2, health: 6.8, energy: 6.4



from watt:

   pop at seven bells cuz of some not-in-sync-yet w/west u.s. coast vs west europe time. sandy cooks up some great eggs w/chilis and stuff along w/taters and bagels, mmmm totemo oishii. we're having a good time rapping when i realize we got a kzme radio show to do in portland before soundcheck - baka watt! oh yeah, last night when i got rousted from the boat by tom and hit the stage i noticed lameass tunes getting played - fuck, i forgot to make a john coltrane cd for intro/outro music like i usually got going - sandy gives us a blank cd-r and i make one up of "a love supreme" w/the macpurse. also speaking of john coltrane, like a baka i spaced and donated my john coltane pin (one when he was in the navy) backstage at the gig in firenze. well, if i'm gonna donate a john coltrane pin, italy's a very ok place to do it. i do have some pins from i got from a gig-goer in georgia last year so i'm wearing that. got an email from my buddy richard meltzer... he's sick and can't come to the gig tonight, damn - him too... hope to god he gets better, that man is a treasure.

   we pull anchor, big hugs for sandy and steve first, righteous weather again for us as we head south on I-5. it's three hours to get where we're going but after an hour I had the wheel over to raul cuz I'm yowai (weak) and don't wanna get wore out and lame out my condition even more. the radio man is james and where we're recording is actually his pad, a great set up. we do the first five parts of the piece and damn if I don't space on some parts, both on bass and w/spiel. it seems when I exert myself I get back into fever, fuck and I was sitting down too! well at least what he's got is different than the album version. he does an interview w/me also and then we're out, pretty quick - he's a great cat w/a happening disposition.

   you might be wondering why we leap-frogged all of cali and started tour up here in the northwest... it's cuz of this tour starting when it is in the fall and w/heavy weather down the road I figured it was best to do cali last, in the november part where it can be scary back east that way. we're doing the "doug fir lounge" tonight, same pad I've played last bunch of times in this town cuz I dig it much and they like having what I got going, much respect to them. maybe it's the log cabin motif that makes it sound so good! helperman matt made us some salsa w/siracha, that's a first for me. he's very cool people, says he's originally from detroit. the one bummer tonight is having to go up against my buddies in deerhoof - love that band. damn if we couldn't just play together, huh? john, one of their guitarmen, had me be part of an album w/thollem mcdonas and tim barnes called "you're always on our minds" and the hand to man band is the name of the proj. we're gonna go for a second album this december in oakland, I'm excited about that. who we are playing w/tonight is local cats called the divers and I get to rap w/them as soundman mick sets us up for soundcheck. we have a good time. after our check, I do an interview w/some folks doing a doc on an old portland club called "the satyracon" - the first place minutemen ever played in portland and where d. boon went through the stage floor - he kept on playing, of course! one real exciting thing about that gig was that greg sage had come to see us play cuz we loved those first three wipers albums. after filming that spiel, a bass player/chiropractor named jeanne who's been going to my gigs for years takes me to her office a couple blocks away and does holistic tests on me to find stuff that can help w/this sickness I got. she's so very kind. she finds bacteria hurting me and gives me things to help get well. I'm big time grateful. I go back to the venue and upstairs get a porkchop to chow and after that I'm to the boat and konk hard. oh, first I heard the divers soundcheck and they're great, yeah!

   tom rousts me out a sweaty konk that was pretty deep but man, I needed it, lots going on today wore my yowai self down. good crowd in the pad and a happening spirit for the folks... ok, I owe everyone the best I got so I go and give it, tom and raul essentially aiding and abetting. I do better than last night but still blow some clams. fuck, the fever would whup up and blind my mind to where I was but yeah, it was worse last night. the encores are better from all of us. oh, back to the piece: you know there's plenty of places where we're tiny and opportunities for yammering to bogart on us - there's yammering tonight maybe more than last night but still I don't wanna play cop and just try to hold focus, I gotta say I've gotten better at that. people pay good money to see the gig so I guess they can yammer during the quiet parts but maybe it's lame for other people? I guess this piece can kind of provoke a sitch but I just had to make a living/breathing thing and that means hills and valleys. can't wait 'til I can work it again w/tom and raul w/out a fever. I gotta tell so many were so generous w/their hearts, truly.

   sightworks boss bill (the folks that host my radio show) is here, yeah! glad we got to do the piece for him. the other boss eric is in barcelona now on vacation but has let us konk at his pad here even w/him gone, so very kind. actually tom and raul were already here thursday on their drive up. so lucky to have good people in my life - I can't say that enough. whoa, I'm feeling weak. into the nightwear and then onto the couch near the hatch, trippy knitted blankie over me and konk mask on - I'm out.





sunday, september 30, 2012 - spokane, wa


from tom:

   we pack up and head towards spokane, it is a nice drive along the columbia river for the first half. the second half has another look to it when i take my shift at the wheel, kind of like central california, very dry. it's a sunday and the town is quiet, this is my second time playing here. after soundcheck, raul and i walk to see the falls in the center of town, which are not very raging at the moment but nice to look at anyway. we search for food and eat at a diner across from the "a" club where we play tonight. we play with a band called bullets or balls, and they set up exactly like we do, it makes me think they did it that way to make it look like we were copying their set up. great guys and we go to chris' house to stay for the night. nice people.

   mood: 6.7, health: 7.1, energy: 7.1



from watt:

   pop just before seven bells and use the microwave to make hot mizu for some throatcoat - man, do I dig that stuff on tour. I do what I do this early if I got a chance and have internet. tom's up at eight when I finish. he goes to get coff and then feeds the cat like eric asked us to do. then I hose off when raul's finished doing the same. we pull anchor at nine but like a baka, I space on the thank you note for eric - I'll write him an email. man, is him and bill so much very cool people, truly.

   the weather is righteous has we head east on I-82 and through the columbia gorge. what a mighty river this is, we pass two huge dams, the dells and the john day, damn. you can see washington state all the way across it - both sides got trains full of cans carrying shit by rail. I play the 2ne1 disc I got which gets smirks and snickers from raul and tom. it starts skipping after a few tunes... fuck, some shit got poured all over the surface where the player reads from - I'll try and clean it later. we switch ponies in arlington ("home of the honkers") when new wheelman raul gets turned around and we have to go the wrong way (west) for seven miles before being able to turn around cuz on/offramps are few in between out here - hey clams ain't just for the stage, you can do them on the road in the boat. look, at least we're safe so no blame on raul, please - this brother is key as all hell. we cross the columbia and head northeast towards spokane, you can smell the onions from walla walla big time. the screaming trees were from not too far from there in a town called ellensberg - I took this cats on their first two tours in the late 80s, great band. I chimp diary on the back bench of the boat (actually midships - the gear's aft). tom takes over at ritzville. you realize both eastern oregon and washington are desert like parts just like in eastern cali - rain shadow effect. no fir tree forests like on the west coast, the other side of the cascades. raul says this is tom's first time on the conn so I guess raul was the only wheelman before I joined - respect!

   we get to spokane around four and the gig's in the old part of town. we were given the wrong address - it's on the other side of the street and in fact, a few doors down and upstairs from a pad called "mootsy's" I played years ago w/petezo and raul (secondmen). this pad's called "a club" and the club rep is very cool people name john, he gets me a blt sandwich that's got turkey in it delivered for my chow. first though we do soundcheck w/soundman adam - whoa, this room is made much more for dancing than bands cuz the echo could prolly swallow moby-dick. well, like they say in vaudeville, "work the room" - I ain't gonna wring the hands and bellyache, I'm glad to play spokane again cuz it's been a long time. actually in all my touring I think it's only my fourth time, damn... gotta play here more, huh? wish I could play everywhere every tour, let me tell you. I get to meet the openers, bullets or balloons which is a trio w/cats from here - very happening cats and whoa, they set up just like us w/the drums up front and at an angle, crimony! I hear them check (it's short but they're great!) and the go to the boat and konk, feeling weak some. I also heard a nickname by some for this town is "methleham" - I thought that was sac-town? I think this is no honor for any town to have, hopefully it's just a phase. I hobble tothe boat and konk hard.

   tom rousts me when it's gig time, about a quarter of ten. it's a character builder but actually folks are there for us, nothing diluted and nothing phony. I recognize right up front is most happening luthier darrin huff, a very generous man - I gotta play good for him. the fever flashes are fewer tonight and though there's some feedback and other tech probs, my guys and me really rally round the piece and deliver it good. however for the third time in a row I totally clam the solo in "cherry-headed-lover-man" part, what a fucking baka I am. I will pound it into my fucking self tomorrow at soundcheck. anyway, we do real good w/the piece, so proud of tom and raul plus the gig-goers give us much heart, respect. the encores are even more together tonight - hey, we're making progress! I sling shit when we get done and the nicest cat named joe gave a benjamin for an andrew buy - he wouldn't take change from me... the emotion he shared, it really touched me, truly. what a kind kind man. tom said he had sort of similar experience also. respect to the spokane gig-goers. I get to have a great spiel w/darrin too.

   chris, the guitarman for the openers invites us to his pad not too far away and it's safe for the boat. he's ten years older than his bandsmen cory and aaron so he says "papa bear" is his nickname. I spend a good while rapping w/cory, interesting stuff. actually there's a bunch folks here and they're all great cats, much respect to everyone. I kind of planted myself on a couch coming in and spiel from there 'til it's time for the konk mask to come down and that it does around one... I'm out.





monday, october 1, 2012 - missoula, mt


from tom:

   i have the best sleep of the tour so far. we stop and get huckleberry smoothies and bagels at a tiny shack in a tiny town on our way to missoula. it's a very pretty drive through mountains in the idaho panhandle. there is a haze of smoke from fires in the gorge as we get closer to missoula, and when we arrive the air is still and very dry. i feel my lips start to get chapped. when we find the venue i run in and my first reaction is that this is the wrong place. it is a full on country bar, with gambling machines and a small stage with wagon wheels along the front. it reminds me of that scene from the blues brothers movie. however, i remind myself that i have these feelings from time to time about other gig places at first and at the end of the night it all turns out to be great. so i have a change of perception as i ask the nice lady at the bar if she knows anything about us playing there, and no, it's not the right place... wrong address. i was a little disappointed i think. we get to the correct place and it's an old tire garage converted into a DIY clothing store called zoo city apparel where they put on gigs at night. it's very cool, especially for a monday night, and it's an all ages show too. we meet marty and get settled in. he brings us to a cool food place with nice people for a great bbq meal before the gig. raul and walk around the town, it's a good time, fun show too. after we head to andy's to spend the night in his basement.

   mood: 6.9, heath: 7.0, energy: 6.8



from watt:

   pop at seven bells and find one of those hot dogs (big one!) I was offered last night but declined and nuke it in the 'wave, toaster up a hamburger bun from a sack nearby and w/some mustard, I got breakfast. actually the dog was so big I had to fold it. bullet or balloner chris has gotta drive to seattle where he teaches and everyone else has got work - we pull anchor before nine and I find myself driving the whole three hours to missoula in montana on I-90. now I didn't plan it that way but that's what happened. inside montana we smell fire and there's smoke which I thought at first was haze but was wrong. we stop in saint regis for gas and there's a little pad (the northwest loves these tiny pads one person that serves coff through a window drive-through) slinging huckleberry smoothies and three each get one along w/bagels and salmon except for tom who scissors the salmon. the desert prairie of eastern washington is gone and the big sky forest an mountains of montana are on us, real pretty. trippy bumper sticker we seen on a pickup truck: "do I look like I give a shit?" - tom fucks up and squanders the shot w/one that's all blurry. oh well.

   it changes back to some pairie for missoula we get into town around three (we lost an hour cuz of moving into the mountain time zone) and whoa, is this the venue? it says "sunrise..." something or other - not "zoo city apparel" which is what I was lead to believe. damn if we don't have twice in a row the wrong address but this ain't just across the road, this across town. free internet here (free coff too, very kind of the lady working here) and I find the right address and amend the hoot page. fuck, the flyer info was wrong for a couple of months now?! crimony! we get to the actual pad we're playing and it's a clothes store made out of a former old-timey tire shop. the gigboss is marty and he's very cool people. he let's us park inside the big garage on the side. he's made the stage out of pallets for us to play on. for chow we go on over to a pad a bassman named jason arrange to have happen called the burns street bistro (named after scot poet robert burns) and the cook there named walker makes us some flavorful salsa w/habanero plus bbq turkey legs, macaroni and cheese (top breaded) and some salad w/guess what? huckleberry dressing. real good, respect. jason tells us that smoke we went through is from fires in idaho and oregon - there's been a fortytwo days w/out any rain, a record. damn, I hope the drought breaks soon. even though rain can be scary for driving on tour, nature w/out rain is not a healthy thing. we get to meet the band that's opening for us, bird's mile home and their bassman timmy and keith on guitar, drummie joey's missing but we'll see him later. marty plays me a little of their band when we get back, he's putting them out on his minor bird reocrds label. stuff like the old days is still going on, people - "do it yourself" is not just some past trip. we do soundcheck w/michael mixing and tonnis helping. I do an interview after w/a cat we were supposed to play w/in hokkaido for the first third opera tour but he got deported - his name is john and does a real good spiel w/me. I'm tuckered after though and konk real hard in the boat.

   tom rousts me ten minutes before our quarter of eleven start time. the pad's sold out, thank you good people. we bring forth the piece. the monitors are a little soft so I gotta push but that helps I think w/pushing out some infection - I hock up a big one behind us and am very glad to see very little green, mainly white. I mean this is while we're still going - you know there's no stops in the piece. I think there was some kind of kefuffle somewhere in the crowd but I turn towards my guys so it doesn't throw us but I think it did do some of that to tom but he rallies... I mean, what can we do about something like that w/out ruining the gig for everyone else, we gotta hold focus and I believe the gig-goers are capable enough of policing themselves. same w/yammering. anyway, after three gigs this tour, I finally kind of get together the "cherry-headed-lover-man" part's bass solo. the one fever flash I do get is in "hell-buliding-man" and I did ruin a chunk of the spiel there and also 'pert-near hardly know where the fuck I was - thank god for tom and raul for keeping it together. there's some yammering in the quiet parts but that's most some conversation and not cutesy "babbabooie" or whatever einstein witticisms talk-radio enshrined pearloids pipped up to fullfil an ego jones. I'm grateful for the respect, truly. we do the encores the best yet, things are progressing for us.

   I sling and one cat gives me bones for a shirt he got years and years ago where I gave him back the same bill he gave me and it bugged his conscious. very kind. lots of kind sentiments and even some wisdom like informing not everyone was from here even though I addressed them as though that's what I believed. I am clumsy w/words, sorry. I don't pretend to know where everyone's from. what I'm trying to do isexpress is my gratitude and I swear I don't mean to offend or be a know-it-all. really good is getting a big hug from timmy, that's righteous - so glad to share the stage w/him and his band.

   I'm really tuckered though, damn, it took a lot out of me and I ain't out of the sickness woods yet. we follow marty to jason's pad and downstairs w/got a couch and futon to konk on. I get to show tom and raul a couple of 2ne1 videos and then it's light's out but I don't konk immediately cuz I have some coughing fits w/the mask on and blankied, damn. mercifully they relent - nothing was coming up and my lungs are clear, it was just spasam-like, you know? fuck, thank god for konk.





tuesday, october 2, 2012 - boise, id


from tom:

   we leave early to boise, it's a 7+ hour drive and most of it is on winding roads. pretty though it is, it can be wearing. our tour-mode mindset keeps us entertained. tonight we play the neurolux, the only place i have ever played in boise. i like it very much. however, before we get to the club, we stop at bart and steph's comic book/record store called the hotdog sandwich headquarters and hang with them. sweet people and a sweet little shop. after load in i find a halloween mask for mike at a store next door to the club and impulse buy it. i don't want to say what it is yet, i want that to be a surprise. after the show we get to bart and steph's and bart makes us a couple of his world famous pizzas and some spicy chicken wings.. nice. i hit the sack after that.

   mood: 7.4, health: 7.2, level: 7.3



from watt:

   seven and a half bells and I pop pretty much relieved I somehow konked w/that coughing shit last night that came on me. jason I think helped by giving tom a glass of bourbon (just one) to give to me. I feel ok as far as grateful for no fever but a little sore/dry in the throat. by eight we pull anchor cuz we got a hellride for boise - not in terms of miles (especially as the crow flies) but lots of winding non-interstate road for us ahead. a big hug for jason from me and we're out.

   the town suddenly ends and there's nothing for a bit 'til we hit lolo and we stop for subway sandwich shop where instead of tuna I'm persuaded by tom and raul to try their breakfast one. it's ok but the eggs ain't fresh so no more of these for me I think in days to come.

   I get us through the bitteroots (soon we cross into idaho - ahead of the border I see a flock of wild turkeys to the side of the road, what?!) and clearwater mountains going west on us-12 to kooskia along the lochsa river, raul taking the wheel after we get gas. curvy road at the canyons bottom makes for fifty mph average and at least eighty something of those miles had no towns at all. real pretty country though except for all the smoke from fires, in fact we saw a small one burning across the river! much heavier than yesterday. raul takes south on idaho-13 where the smoke cleared up and the weather's real nice and those heavier clouds from the morning back in montana are gone. south on us-95 at grangeville. raul's got a seve mile stretch of downhill to do that's a seven percent grade, fuck! he does real good though, real good - slow, easy and careful. the smoke returns, we're back in fire country, holly smoke - we see fire fighters in the area as we follow the salmon river through hell's canyon. at new meadows tom gets handed the wheel and our last road is idaho-55 for boise. trippy road sign: "watch for rock" - only one? or does it refer to the hobby and/or research cuz maybe filling the pipe could get expensive? tom wheels us through the payette scenic byway and like raul, he's got some grade to negotiate us down (they got seven percenters here) but does real good - big respect to both, I love these men.

   we go to hot dog sandwich headquarters in the north part of town soon as we hit boise. bart and steph have just open this pad and they got lots of good music, comics and collectables. so good to see them again, old friends since I first met bart as a helperman for caustic resin when they toured w/me way back. they got a buddy who's got a food truck called "p. ditty's" and he makes me a wrap w/pulled pork. I ate so many of those happening tortilla chips marty gave us yesterday ("casa pablo's") that I'm gonna save most of it. I get to meet jeremy in person after a year of email who's the manager of a great label called post-consumer and I get ninetyseven cds of the hand to man band debut album "you are always on our minds" to sling at gigs. it's great honor for me to be on the album cuz I love it - it puts me in a much different context than other recordings I'm on, it is singular that way.

   we're playing a pad I've played umpteen times in this town called "neurolux" and I wheel us there for soundcheck. yatta! there's a parking spot right out front. while soundman lawrence sets us up, I go across the street like I 'pert-near always do and get wor wonton soup from the china restaurant - maybe "golden phoenix" is the name? damn, I'm always forgetting that. peter, the cat from three rooms press who put out my "on and off bass" book last may gave me a bottle of I'd guess you'd call "vanity hot sauce" - the label says "no shit! watt is hot!" which is probably the only bottle w/that label, think the sauce wasn't anything except for joke stuff but raul said it was good and I try some for the first time in the soup - yeah, it ain't just chemical tasting yuk-yuk stuff. it's made by peppers.com in rehoboth beach, de which in fact is a town we play later in the tour - ain't that a trip? damn. I meet the guys in the openers, the hand and jumping sharks who are all most kind as are the neurolux folks. I go konk in the boat hard after chowing have the soup (got it to go), shirt off.

   ten pm is go time and tom rousts me ten minutes before, he's got some hot throatcoat tea for me, many thanks. the crown from a 'tel is stil hear at the rear of the stage (maybe a "best western" one?) but they don't run the light bulbs on it any more. we bring the piece and damn if in the second part I don't 'pert-near go down cuz of my fucked up knee, knocking down two of raul's cymbals and pushing my amp by falling into it but gratefully not going down in a full crumble. the headstock of the bass hit the cymbals and are way wacked out of tune but I tune in back up on the fly and we continue w/no stopping. whew, that was very close. I have hardly any fever flashes and the ones I get are tiny and don't waylay me - this is very happening. we're a little disconnected but just a cunt-hair and spiel from me to tom and raul is really just fallout from being so scared cuz of what happened early on when I 'pert-near tumbled. tom and raul did real good and the encores were a hoot.

   bill from built to spill comes to say, he always so kind to me, a great cat. I have BIG respect for him. this time I get to meet his wife karena too, very nice people - she said she saw me 'pert-near tumble! jumping sharks bassman reggie shows me his gibson eb-3, almost just like my first eb - I recorded "paranoid time" w/it. it had "pedro" spray painted on it. I later gave it to flea but it got stolen w/a lot of other stuff from a storage space of his. reggie wants to get his action lower and I tell him about adjusting the truss rod. I gotta say his bass sure does go w/his hat.

   we follow bart and steph to their pad by the old boneyard. immediately I hose off and steph takes my fouled outfit and gig shirt and puts in the washer w/tom and raul's also fouled stuff, so kind. they got a twentyone year old friend darren who is cool people, full of life. I plant myself on the couch where I'm to konk and darren wants to hear some stories from the old days so I give a few little ones - no windbags. steph talks about enjoying tom and raul even though it's my band but I have to tell her I can't imagine the third opera even happening w/out them, truly. bart cooks up hot chicken wings and homemade pizza, real good. righteous way final chapter for our boise gig. mask comes down and soon comes konk.





wednesday, october 3, 2012 - salt lake city, ut


from tom:

   woke at bart and steph's - thanks guys!, made tea, loaded into van to get rolling to salt lake. along the way raul gets a note from steph that i left my clip on sunglasses at their place, damn it. oh well, maybe i can get them when i come back through. tonight we meet up with lite from japan to start a 10 day leg of our tour together, yay!! raul and i played this club with lou b. a couple years ago, i like it. we see our japanese friends and that lifts our spirits... i love these guys. we do our sound checks and walk them to a mexi place for food, then raul and i find some veggie food and walk for a bit. we see our friend don d. and spend some time talking him before we play. lite plays great, it's a fun show. we go to don's to sleep.

   mood: 7.1, health: 7.2, energy: 7.3



from watt:

   pop at seven and a half... whoa, a few nightmares during last nigh's konk. in one some band wanted me to record w/them - young cats - and when they played me the song and when they got done I muttered something like "sounds like springsteen" and all at once they'er smiling big and go "yeah!" oh man. the other dream had me shackled to some kind of "event" after "event" even though I couldn't get a handle on any of them or know what I was supposed to do and felt all pulled apart - I could feel my joints stretched 'pert-near the point of dislocation which scared me much cuz I've had that prob w/my knees all my life, something more painful than you can ever imagine: a dislocated kneecap, crimony.

   bart said he wanted to cook us chow but he's konked which is ok cuz he cooked it up big last night. steph sees us off, we pull anchor at nine after I do my morning stuff I can do when there's internet - yeah, bart and steph have internet now! she gives us all big bye-bye hugs and we're off.

   I wheel us on I-84 east w/a tailwind you wouldn't believe... have to use 'pert-near any pedal to do the seventyfive mph limit, crimony! thirty or forty miles to the utah border we switch ponies at a "town" called sublett - only a gas station here selling regular for $4.70 a gallon for regular where at the last one maybe fifteen miles back is $3.80 - we don't get gas here but you can't foul the facilities w/out buying something so I get a ninetynine cent water... I remember a year and half ago miss (now mrs) peak getting a buttload of grief for trying to take this same guy's picture. I have to ask for toilet paper cuz is none. the hatch has a sign as you leave in cyrillic so I ask him as I leave his pad if he speaks russian and he says not really, I say two words I know as I leave, tovarisch and spasiba (comrade and thank you). I take a picture of the two alpacas fenced in front of the pad. tom at the wheel... huge amounts of dirt in the air, just verging on dust storm then a big fire it seem just before brigham city, damn.we can smell it.we got fifty bucks worth a gas (a dollar a gallon cheaper than that pad w/the alpacas) right pass those fires which were dustdevils as we passed where it had seemed to be... hell, we could smell it. for seventyone cents I get the worse chilidog ever - my first of the tour and can only take one bite cuz the "chli" that looks like catshit tastes rancid. fuck that. good thing I finished that pulled pork wrap that got froze being in the boat overnight earlier. I-84 splits off and we head south on I-15, getting to the venue just after three.

   this pad is right downtown and I've never played here before, "urban lounge" is it's name. tom and raul's played here once before when they part of lou barlow + the missingmen that did some touring a few years. a nice cat name will lets us in a likewise nice cat named ryan is the soundman and we soundcheck w/him. as we're setting up, who arrives? it's lite - they made it! our lite brothers from tokyo, so glad, so glad! big hugs from watt for each, big ones! kazuto-san couldn't be tourboss for them cuz of work so he sent his colleague ikuo who work sound and stuff for them. nobuyuki now has long enough hair for a pony tail, kouzou long enough for a headband that looks more like a shoelace. akinori's hair is cut up pretty and brother jun's is same as usual. they're all in good health and ready to go, even w/the jet lag. after both our checks, tom and raul go get some kind-of-hardly-not-really mexican chow for them and me though I don't think they chowed it themselves. our first chow together is marlon blando! oh well, at least no one got sick. I talk w/them about recently reading that sarashina nikki which I'm very interested in, all this kind of onnade (lady's writing) from a thousand years ago in their land, trippy literature. I also tell them it's the first debate tonight for the beauty contest we hold every four years in this land. we talk a little too about the crazy shit w/these tiny islands involving their land, china, taiwan, korea, vietnam and philippines. so much frustrating stuff going on now. nobuyuki says music scene by home is still pretty tough. everyone's spirit is up though, even kouzou who has to konk cuz of jetlag. actually I gotta konk too cuz of me just being not so young and still getting over that sickness. in the boat I konk real hard.

   I'm popped up by the sound of lite and head for back in the pad... they're tearing it up! they've rearranged some of the old tunes and have one new one. they all got new guitars (bass for brother jun) and akinori had cymbals sent to him from paiste. the gig-goers are digging them, righteous. my old buddy don comes by and says "wow!" - we're konking at his pad tonight, an old buddy from pedro (went to high school w/his brother) who moved here years ago. he's real good people, real good. man, after witnessing the blasting by the lite brothers, am I fired up to do the piece now!

   real quick change over cuz they're using all our amps plus another bandmaster (blackface, tom uses a early 70s sliverface - both of them are his but modified by my secondmen organman petezo) w/a two ten cab for kouzou. we get right to it. so good ryan asked me to check my mic earlier ("for shits and giggles" he said) cuz a damn foam disc was bouncing around inside the basket! we bring the piece and I gotta make a few adjustments to my amp's eq cuz I guess brother jun did but yeah, we do the third opera really well I think, I feel most together tonight this tour so far. tom and raul are playing their asses off, really good and tom's even moving behind raul like I do, it's not just for me anymore, yeah! it's easier for him to make eye contact w/raul for "lute-and-dagger-man" too. stephen from all has got a cousin named andy who was talking to me earlier and asked for "the red and the black" so I put that into the encore. man, does he have a happening '65 impala ss. I blew clams in this take on a b.o.c. tune I've done starting w/d. boon way back but it was still a good ride. the one regret I have is I fucking spaced and forgot my john coltrane pin on my purple off-stage shirt... what a fucking baka I am. I have to get it more together.

   as I sling stuff, folks are most kind - two cats who write for the big paper said the first debate was a wakeup call for one of them. I ask them if they heard of jill stine - noam chomsky's for her. I like these two guys spirit, they have a fire like d. boon in a way. I think they've seen some dirty stuff. we need good writers. a man on a journey talks w/me backstage about an intense sitch on him. it is frightening but he sounds brave, sounds philosophical about it. I hope he's safe.

   tonight we're safe at don's. after settling w/the gigboss nicole, we pull anchor and drive near the zoo where I've stayed many times. I always konk in front of the fire here and don's got a "log" (whatever you call these things) going now. before I hit the deck there's I do a little spiel w/the lite guys but not much cuz I'm tuckered. don tries to get his internet up but it's down but like w/no bourbon either, it's no prob cuz he's way more than righteous and beautiful w/his kindness for my dear friends and men. he's just the best. me jer and petezo helped him w/two tunes for a seven inch - hell, I could talk about don forever... he's into history like d. boon too - a deep cat that has a huge heart, respect from watt. I konk between him and the fire.





thursday, october 4, 2012 - denver, co


from tom:

   we wake at don''s place and he makes us all a nice breakfast. it's always great to stay here. we have a long drive so we get to it. almost all the way across southern wyoming, then south to denver. we have played the larimer lounge a bunch, and each time the area gets more and more cleaned up. my dad told me it was a very sketchy place in the old days. i see some old friends named christian and pat, and catch up a bit. it's getting cold, too cold to walk around, so we order sandwiches and eat in the back room with lite. raul has been feeling a little bit of mike's sickness, and i think i'm starting to feel it now. damn it. i have hand sanitizer and use it constantly, but in the van it's easy to share sickness. lite sounds amazing tonight.

   mood: 6.8, health: 7.0, energy: 6.7



from watt:

   we got 530 miles to make today so we gotta pull anchor at eight and a half... I pop a little after seven to hose down - been two days, baka watt. don's soon rustling up eggs w/onions and cheese, kind of scrambled like toaster waffles and rasberries - our lite brothers are digging on this kind of asagohan (breakfast), they like the way I can get the rasberries up w/my hashi (chopsticks) w/out missing - I've been doing it like five years at my pad exclusively now - I never use forks unless I ain't got my hashi and am at some chow pad. big hugs for don from everyone, we got blue skies to see us off, northeast on I-80 for wyoming. before the border we pass where the van almost rolled after hitting black ice on a fIREHOSE tour... it was the sliver/black econoline I got from georgie that had a broken rear leaf spring repaired but only that one (dave-o's idea) - people, never get just one side fixed even if that's the only broken one cuz your ride will never be even - learn from our nightmare! luckily I kept my foot off the brake and turned into where we were spinning and very fortunately there was no divider but an open median and I kept her up on all four wheels doing a 340, almost bringing her all the way around. I was so shook, georgie had to take over and that was after he screamed his fucking brains out as the rear end came around. this is why I like to end fall tours by halloween.

   I get us off at evanston, just inside wyoming and realized there ain't a station for a good while and turn into what I discover is an entrance to a hospital - baka! I have to make a sevetyfive point turn and for sure our tokyo brothers must know we're - I mean me - is big time baka.

we pass flaming gorge - it was here in 1988 that slovenly (tom's old band) and fIREHOSE camped out here. they had tried to set up a ten and it blew away, the wind was so intense. I remember us seeing lightning hitting across the river and starting little fires which luckily soon went it out, that was surreal. tom fills in raul w/details of that tour, the only national one slovenly ever did. at noon we get gas in rock springs. my ma was born and raised in a coal town near here called dines. when it ran out of coal, the company that owned it closed down and my ma's family moved to peoria,il when she was a teenager. dines is now a ghost town... her and her brother went and visited there a few years ago and found only ruins. raul takes the wheel and it's clear skies... we pass a rest area where the picnic tables have walls around them - that's what the wind is like around these parts. luckily today's wind is calm, lucky us cuz it makes for some white-knuckle driving. we see one of those pop-up camper trailers, you hardly ever see these any more and damn if it ain't got oregon plates - we saw one back on the way to portland, is it the same one? no... could it?! tom says it's had the same sky lights... fuck. we pass an old gas station I remember cleaning up in after blowing it out years ago, maybe w/my secondmen... everyone was konked and never knew what happened. anyway, that pad is now boarded up, damn. we've been hearing the "sock-tight" proj I did w/raymond every morning but today we actually hear some other music. well, actually I played the hand to man band album yesterday for tom and raul but today we "texas funeral" by jon wayne (they'd never heard of it before, what?!) and "the best of" by lalo schifrin. we see wild antelope by the side of the road. earlier I saw a big lady elk in utah. we cross over the continental divide - 7000 feet up. we hear syd barrett bootleg "psychedelic freak out" which sure is trippy w/wyoming's landscape passing by. they're building many more snowbreaks out here now, much MUCH higher than the old ones (looks like pieces of the great wall of wyoming!) - the wind can really blast so you can imagine the snow that can get blown. we've passed a few gates that actually close this freeway when it gets too bad. we have good fortune for calmness for our ride today, most grateful I'll you how I feel. we see a couple of motorcycles we thought we saw about in washington state - one of them anyway cuz we remember the 'tard bumper sticker on one and neither has one. are we losing our brains? tom gets the wheel in laramie - herr garmin (the gps navigator) asks us to avoid the cutoff that goes from here to fort collins and instead he wheels us south on I-25 once we hit cheyenne. the skies turn gray and heavy, blue is gone. I heard someone say at the last gast station a storm was moving in quick from the north. I see a monument for the sand creek massacre... tom says his grandpa's last words alive were "sandy ran red, ran red for six days" - very heavy. we arrive at the venue thirteen minutes before the scheduled six pm loload-inime - good job, tom. good job from raul too, both beautiful men.

   this pad is called the "lalarimerounge" maybe cuz that's the street it's on? it's my third time here I think, dig it much. soundman matt soundcheck us and our lite brothers, we're the only bands on. he helps too w/the john coltrane music for pre/post gig sounds. less and less pads have cds now so I gotta flow mp3s over to his leash using bluetooth. we gotta get raul's ipod happening to accomodate "progress," right? sure loving have mr coltrane fore and aft of our set, love it. raul's sick, started feeling it a few days ago he says but he says for sure the motherfucker's laying into him. damn, I fucking probably brought it, what an asshole. I was trying to be careful but it is close in the boat.

   only a little time for chow cuz lite is to go on at nine. we chow sandwiches from some delivery pad ("fat..." somebody says tom and raul) and I get "the joker" cuz we passed aurora and I thought of that nightmare - when will we get it together, why do we go off that way? this sandwich seems like any other sub but I have to wonder about "man-shitting-man" in that way, I can't reconcile it, can't. it's a helpless feeling...

   whoa, gotta get inspired - I nix konking in the boat as usual and go out front to watch lite rip it up. stronger than last night cuz of some recovery probably from the jetlag beatdown, they kick up serious dust. the denver gig-goers acknowledge it too, thank you much. I love their set.

   our turn. I thank the gig-goers for being so kind to our buddies and then for some reason tell them we know the opera better than we ever have. now that might be true but why did I say that then? thinking back, maybe it was kind of a badge-buff, huh? we start pretty strong, soundman matt's got great monitors going for me and the denver folks bring much spirit, having it probably lit up by lite but then we start getting some clams going - is it the stage lights, is it shadows on our fretboards? I say this cuz it ain't raul but more me and tom. I really blow it in "mockery-robed-man" when it's a spiel thing - I holler "cure the irony, cure the irony, cure the irony" when it's irony that cures "the mockery" and not the other fucking way around, what a baka I am! whoa, it is a trippy gig for sure. we do bring up nobuyuki to help us on "the red and the black" but I think I blew some bass clams in that one as well. I still liked the gig cuz of the spirit - thank you denver people but I am confused about what was up w/me. tom says the same. I tell him we'll get past it, this stuffs seems to happen sosometimeso matter what. we end up laughing about all the craziness.

   many kind words from the gig-goers, very kind. I sign a five string bass that has green strings, trippy. a really nice bassman owns it, really nice. mio and her buddy come to watch us again, I love these cats. he takes shots of us, she's got besides her pom-poms, a rilakkuma hood/cloak on too! I need pictures w/him also so we do that - they brought us chow, so kind. one man tells me he gets out of the army soon, wants to do music. many people thank me for bringing lite.

   jay's a local musician who's also worked in ananarticahe had us konk at his pad last time we were here in 2011 and does invites us over again, so very generous. the sack of chow from mio I find has takoyaki (octopus in fried kind of dough balls) and some maki (rolls of rice w/a filling, roasted seaweed on the outside), great chow - all of us dig in and jay brings a bowl of boiled shelled shrimp (ebi). there's a little beam too and I mean little, a couple of one hundred milliliter bottles - never that before. he tells me what he dug about the gig was lite went on at nine and we went on at ten, everything right on time. I like that too. we gotta pull anchor early so by one I got the mask down, very grateful to jay for his kindness.





friday, october 5, 2012 - omaha, ne


from tom:

   my alarm goes off at 6 am at jay's place, still dark out and very cold outside, i see that it snowed. i feel like i'm definitely whatever mike brought with him, damn, i thought this might be the one tour where i don't get sick. i get cleaned up and ready for the hell ride to omaha. we arrive several hours later. i'm feeling the cold setting in. we get some amazing bbq from a great guy named andy, and we all go to his furniture shop and enjoy the food and check out his cool stuff. thank you, andy! after we get back to the venue, raul and i walk to a place called the beercade and i watch raul play some pinball, he's pretty good at it and gets a few extra games. i bail to chill out before the show. sound guy j.j. and helper guy ben at the waiting room club are totally helpful, and make our time here very easy and smooth. we meet a nice couple, scott and kara and they invite us to stay at their place tonight. we hang for a bit and scott breaks out some fine whiskey and one shot and i'm down for the night.

   mood: 7.3, health: 5.1, energy: 5.4



from watt:

   pop at six, paranoid of being late. today's hellride is ten more miles than yesterday's (540) but it's calmer w/the mountains - like none, we're prairie bound. turns out that's a good thing cuz a look out the window shows my baka eyes that the boat is covered w/snow - I shit thee not - october fucking five and it's already snowing in these parts, crimony! oh well, you gotta play the hand you get dealt. the main thing is to be careful.

   tom's bogarting the head. finally he relents and I can hose off. we're pulling anchor at seven. jay and his wife bring on bagels and cream cheese plus fruit - most generous on top of everything else, HUGE grazies for them from not just me but all eight of us, of course. for some reason when jay asks if we're taking I-70 I said yes when that was baka - I wheel us onto I-76 'til it t-bones into I-80 and then roll us east in a rainy sleet but like I already chimped - it being the plains makes it way safer than the mountains, we escaped that hell by ONE day - whew! I get gas at fort morgan... nearby is a town called brush - I think I had to get an alternator for the last econoline I had - oh, raul just told me he sold it for what he bought it from me for seven years ago: five hundred dollars. believe or not, that was his first motor vehicle. he used to pedal to our secondmen pracs. anyway, this gas station has a chow part and the lady there is selling eight pieces of fried chicken for $5.30 - econo! I can't resist, made only a few hours ago. I chow a few pieces as I wheel us east but save the big ones for later. the lame weather doesn't slow us down too much but I'm more interested in keeping careful. after crossing into the central time zone and losing an hour, I take the next offramp so we can switch ponies. raul takes the helm. the tomadochi dawdle some so I gotta do a heard-some-cats move and get the flock out of here, we still got three hundred miles plus to go. we pass the original pony express station. and now begins a lot of construction on this road, making for some slow-go but it'll be worth it in the future, right? pretty stupid to neglect infrastructure, that's what I think. we hear sock-tight, jon wayne ("texas funeral"), the dan ("can't buy a thrill") and t-rex (alternative "tanx"). we pass under the pioneer arch at kearny - I played that town only once - I think tom was w/me... it was trippy, the foozball game going on 'pert-near drowned out some of our quieter numbers. there was very nice folks there though too, I remember the pad we konked at was done up like always like xmas, it was the cat's parents that was into that. I also remember some hilarious conversation between him and his buddy - rex was the buddy's name but fuck am I baka and can't remember his. they were sure kind to us. maybe one day I'll play kearny again if I get the chance. I remember it's like my pedro town where it pronounced not like you might think - when I had no idea KAR-NEE is how they say it, lots of folks at the club were laughing when I thanked them for coming. I know now how to say it! shit, it's karm cuz you don't know how many people have had to hear me correct them w/a PEED-RO when I hear them say it "wrong" (wrong for those who live in pedro). we get gas near grand island... hey, the weather's cleared, yatta! brother jun and kouzou get subway sandwiches - what? we got bbq that's supposed to be waiting for us in omaha, baka! I love these guys though - they are not baka. I'm baka for calling them baka!

   the gig is actually in the benson part of omaha and it's a pad I played the last time I was here called "the waiting room" - it was w/greg norton, about three and a half years ago. the bossman jim is waiting right there for us, we made it w/thirteen minutes to go - good job from raul and tom both helping me bear the hellride. jj is the soundman and he's great people. lite mixman ikuo donated some adapters in denver so jj sells what ikuo needs for ten bucks total. he checks us - great sound at this pad.

   woodworker andy has his wife and friend doug ferry us to his workshop where he's been smoking pork all day for us. this is the bbq I was talking about. it's all smoke and no sauce in this cooking and man, is it real good. the lite brothers love it too. so very VERY kind of andy, truly. on the bulkheads are his grandpa's woodworking tools, beautiful. the heads got a bunch of plumbing wrenches too. man, I wanna chow this q 'til I pop! big time gratitude to andy, yes sir.

   we get ferried back to venue w/a half hour before lite is to hit. I see old-time gig-goer fred and say hi - he says his nephew couldn't make it. now since they've joined us, it's impossible for me to do my usual pre-gig konk cuz I just gotta witness what they're doing, just have to. a little bit on the side when they start and then I'm compelled to get right up against the stage in the middle, smack in front of akinori and his kick drum through the p.a. bins shake up what ever man part I got in the sack. talk about "feeling it" - crimony! they whup it up big time and that tiredness I felt wrecking me is all blasted out. that q is sitting good on my stomach too, I'm ready to deliver the piece here in the state d. boon's pop was from.

   changeover is ten minutes and right at ten we go on (jay from last night would be proud) and bring the third opera. I keep focus but think of d. boon much - it helps me. tom and raul work it real good. I can tell we got it happening when some squarejohns in one corner who are yammering get all quiet for "pinned-to-the-table-man" and then keep it that way all the way out. if we could win them over then I get the feeling where working it good. the omaha gig-goers give great support as well, one cat asking me to "light it up" a couple times and I don't think he means cigarettes (by the way, I ain't smoking those to help w/my strength/health). I do clam near the very end when I did a baka move and looked at my hands at the wrong time, getting confused some - right near the end. I think some spiel in the bridge of "blowing-it-out-both-ends" got the choke-a-loke too - maybe some chords also? it's a fun time doing the b.o.c. one again this time w/kouzou, even w/my 'g' a little (little?) flat. it was a hoot.

   I get told not to acknowledge any clams regarding this show in my diary by a gig-goer who's very kind, very generous - I hope he ain't pissed. I ain't trying to wring my hands too hard but wanna think some out loud so maybe somehow it'll help me. everyone so nice - I called for a konk pad from the stage, I always ask them for someplace safe for the boat and to see raul... friends of doug (remember the q earlier? he ferried the lite brothers there to andy's), scott and kara, invite us all to konk at their pad, so kind. I settle w/bossman jim - he told me it was either the fugazi song or some other ones w/a minutmen tune title in the running for their pad's name, much respect to him and his partner. I thank him for all his support.

   we go over to scott and kara's and it's a real neat old pad (over a hundred years old) and have a great time. doug's there too. scott's in horace pinker and knows a lot about the old days. he has a special whiskey he likes, we all try some. I'm in the nightwear for the first time in a few days, feels real good. scott provides me w/the washer for my soilage. much respect, very kind. on a couch I don't even need a blankie to be wrapped in order to konk.





saturday, october 6, 2012 - des moines, ia


from tom:

   i hear mike skype-ing, and i wake at 9:15, and my voice is gone. i am feeling run down, but the house is so nice and scott and kara and their sweet daughter, sabina make us feel very comfortable as they fix us some breakfast. pancakes with lemon and banana in the batter, bacon and coffee. i have some throat coat tea to start. it's not nearly as cold today, and our drive is only 2 1/2 hours, so it's nice to have time for a better rest after being so pressed to get out the door like the last couple of days. this is my first time to des moines and it's freezing here. we arrive early and see a bunch of people in running shorts covered in paint from some sort of running event. i'm feeling a little run down from sickness, and when i get outside of the van there is a slicing chill in the air. we locate the gig place and raul and i get a cup of coffee next door waiting for someone to open it up. we finally load in and check and lite does too. raul and i scout for food, and we decide on an irish pub near by that has guinness stew and i get one and a caesar salad with chicken. i over ordered, but it was good food and i take the left overs with me for later. it's a small old place we're playing tonight, but it has character and the little room starts to fill in and it's a fun night even though i'm not feeling 100%. as we load out i meet tim and monica, the couple we'll be staying with tonight. very cool and funny people, i like them immediately. tim makes guitars and i think he's done some work with nels, so it feels comfortable with them. we head to their home and monica pulls out various foods that we feed upon and talk for a bit till i crawl into their spare bed upstairs. raul's already there, he beat me! that's almost a first. i crawl in next to him and drift away.

   mood: 7.5, health: 5.0, energy: 5.1



from watt:

   pop at nine and a half - I fucking needed it. the windows are full of bright sun, beautiful. tom's like raul: sick. fuck, it had to be me who infected them. I feel terrible about that. kara cooks up hotcakes and strips of bacon, most kind and they're good - when's the last time I've chowed hotcakes? can't remember. her and scott's daughter sabina is in the kitchen w/them and for an eleven year old, I am big time stunned but how grown up she talks cuz when I think of myself at that age, I remember much more drool rather than words w/a reason would stumble from my mouth. maybe it surprises me cuz I'm not around kids hardly. scott says he thinks I know something about history after hearing me go of into tangent land and yammering minutia. I tell him d. boon got me into history cuz it's the truth.

   we pull anchor at twelve and a half. I sail us east across the missouri river and into council bluffs which is in iowa. border towns are trippy - usually one squarejohn city across from a beatdown one. herr garmin puts us through 'pert-near the whole town 'til we get on board I-80 for des moines. at a gas stop at a "kum & go" (I did not make that name up) I get a hot dog sauerkraut, mustard, parmesan cheese and dried chili flakes which tast kind of ok but soon I must blow it out, "short stay" is what we call these kind of events. tom takes the wheel after thank god a "rest area" soon appears on the horizon - not a lot of "rest" went on there for me but it was RELIEF big time.

   lots of corn fields like nebraska but more hills. the bright blue skies of omaha are replaced w/heavy dark clouded ones as we get into des moines about 3:30. looks like there was some kind of city race, lots of folks w/numbers on their outfits, some a tiny bit outrageous (men w/tutus, etc.). "vaudeville mews" is the name of the pad we're playing and it's oldy-time, tin plates on the on the ceiling... nat the soundman says maybe it's a hundred years old or something. hell, maybe vaudeville actually went down here at some point, that sure would be neat. nat is very cool people, some how we get to talking about nikolai tesla and he says has tattoo of him on his arm - whoa. I'm a big fan of that man myself. we do soundcheck and then I chimp diary, raul getting me a salad w/chicken in it from a chow pad next door where I'm dick leaching wifi internet connect from. tom teaches "the glory of man" to nobuyuki in the little dressing we got here, me planted on the couch next to them. "a fart is the lonesome cry of an imprisoned turd" reads one graffiti on the bulkhead. cory from duluth comes by to say hi. that's the gig where a speaker box from the grandpa's ghost guys fell on my foot and broke one of my toes. that was the only time I ever played there, it was w/the jom and terry show. tonight's only the second time I've played this town. that gig had me w/an insanely painful toothache, the next morning I had it yanked by a dentist.

   there's a power trio from here called fetal pig that's opening up for lite and us tonight. I dig them much. I watch lite from the side cuz the walkway to the head has a rail I can hold on to and the sound is great even being behind the p.a. stacks. usually side of the stage is the worse sound in the world but not at this pad. lite tears it up and the des moines gig-goers give them much love, respect. a great set from our brothers - what motivators for us!

   ten pm (love this onstage time, love it!) and I tell the folks about the tooth thing - how one of the people working the gig ("hairy mary's" was the pad's name) said they had a remedy for me, taking a motrin (I think I said midol though) pill and pushing it into the cavity w/the eraser end of a pencil but it was that successful and my bass came up through the deck and up my leg to resonate much pain in that tooth's exposed nerve. I had to holler (off mic) much that gig, it was crazy. anyway, this time I don't have that kind of challenge except for the piece itself but me and my men work it pretty good. the clams I blow are pretty much tiny ones. the gig-goers are very respectful and give us big focus, respect to them. I promise not to wait another twenty years before I play here again. nobuyuki joins us for the minutmen tune tom taught him earlier and also dances pretty big time in the part where tom cuts the rug in the bass/drum only break - respect! kouzou joins us for "the red and the black" and I fuck up the ending, stopping one whole round early - what a dumbshit... baka watt.

   I sling and this cat recognizes "106 beats that" and he's young too, much respect. he's very cool and we talk about flannels w/his buddy, discussing what's up w/the one pocket bullshit that pretends to be the real deal. one lady writes a message on one of my hands as I sling w/the other. I can't read it but know it has meaning cuz she told me her brother explained everything about me to her. more than a few bass players talk w/me. much kindness here, much. I most grateful. I get to talk some w/dan and jeff from fetal pig.

   a luthier friend named tim from the old days lives here and invites us to konk at his new pad, has had it like three months. he rides w/us in the boat to see - we pass a trippy sculpture garden on the way. his wife monica makes spheghetti and re-heats some rotisserie chicken for my guys and our lite buddies, so very kind. it's a nice time we have, really nice. beautiful people, tim and monica. again I get to konk in the rilakkuma nightwear.





sunday, october 7, 2012 - saint paul, mn


from tom:

   tim and monica are super cool people, and they have a sweet little girl named lydia. i have a dream about waking up and walking downstairs and seeing mike and raul at a table. i join them and eat a brownie (?) and make a big mess which i scoop up with my hands. then we say good bye to tim and i say to him that i'm sorry we didn't get a chance to check out his guitar making shop (which he does have). he puts his arm around my shoulder and walks me into the next room, which suddenly becomes an enormous space where a strangely shaped acoustic guitar sits on a stand near a fireplace. i pick it up and strum it, it has an incredible sound, like it's amplified and kind of overdriven but super clear like an auto harp. then i wake up and walk downstairs and see mike and tim and the lite men, and i tell tim about the dream. we eat, and head to his guitar shop. what a cool place. he lets me play a tele-like guitar and it kind of sounds like the guitar in my dream. very sweet dude. thanks tim. we shove off toward the turf club in st. paul, and before we load raul and i get some food at a thai place next door. i get tom ka soup, nice and spicy, just what i need. i like the turf club a lot, it's probably from the late twenty's / early thirties, and has a good vibe. downstairs in the green room area they have a fus ball table and raul and i play against different versions of the lite brothers, we all get into it and a couple hours go by very quickly. lite does another great show and we play well too. it just feels good. after the gig, john and tony invite us to stay at their place and i find a futon and carve out my sleeping space and hit the sack.

   mood: 8.1, health: 6.3, energy: 6.0



from watt:

   pop at eight bells and real quick hose off. tim said he had to carry me to couch last night - man, I was tuckered. his wife monica makes us pancakes and bacon - whoa, second morning in a row - ain't that a coincidence? trippy. they sure are beautiful people and so is their little two and half year old, pure joy. we pull anchor about ten and follow tim to his shop and it's righteous and real - fumes in the paint booth and saw dust from much work, many clamps and hand tools plus machinery and amazingly built guitars, respect! nels cline has had guitars built from tim, crimony! HUGE respect. nobuyuki and kouzou both have a turn playing a "thelevator" guitar that's just be done. sugoi (awesome in their speak).

   sunny and blue skies for us as we head north but it's fucking cold. I break out the bright orange knit hat. north on I-35 and after a while we gas in story city, and at the filing station, brother jun trips on an energy drink called "nuclear" - you can imagine how that must appear to someone from his land, right? fuck I trip on it here in my own but then I understand sometimes we like to market from a butch angle, right? some fucked up shit. soon after the border w/minnesota we pass a lake w/a buttload of white pelicans - in my pedro town we have brown ones. it's a trip to see them cuz even though they are white ones, it makes me think of my pedro town and of course I miss it. I'm digging though being out here w/my men and the lite brothers... life is about taking turns.

   we get to saint paul about three pm and drop anchor in the back of the "turf club" which is the pad we're playing tonight. it's an old-timey bar and it's got great cats like the padboss joshua, soundman herb and from the first avenue folks, gigboss eli. it's a fucking great thing to work w/happening cats, know what I mean? just the best. after soundcheck (herb's got it sounding great up here), I go a few doors down to a thai chow pad called "on's kitchen" and I have pad prik on w/mock duck "you want it hot?" and I nod w/a "bring it" response - it's just that too, alright. I've never had "mock duck" before, maybe it's tofu? I'll ask tom and raul later. right now though I gotta get to the boat and konk so I can try and to good as I can. I konk hard, like a monolith.

   I'm popped by lite coming through the bulkhead, must be nine. love these early gigs. damn if it ain't a icebox in here, so glad for all these blankies - even if they're rough ones. I see my breath fog. I hurry as fast as my lame self will take me and go right to the front of the stage still w/my orange hat, yellow coat and backwack 'puter sack on, gripping onto the monitor to keep steady. the lite brothers are bringing it like a shinkansen (bullet train), oh my god. righteous. man, this is the best way to get ready for a gig, the best.

   they get done and I put on my flannel I'm wearing for the tour. it's a little wet from last night but fuck it. thank god there's a big pole for the "steps" - this stage is high up but I can wrap my arms around the big pole and feel safe getting up it, safer than a handrail if you can believe it, at least for someone as yowai (weak) as me. I thank the folks much for their kindness to our brothers and then proceed to clam the first part of "hyphenated-man" big time, spacing on one of the verses but it don't shake my men and I'm able to get back on board and our keel stays in the water. I'm thinking "oh man, what kind of lame-ass gig are you gonna turn out here, watt?" but you know what, we rally and do real good, lots of supports from the folks, even w/some sitdown tabled yammerers but they're way outnumbered but focused kindness and maybe a little embarrassed, especially when it comes to the "mouse-headed-man" part. I'm just so grateful for men and these kind of gig-goers who focus an honest good will, you know? I feel a big debt in fact to do them the best I can no matter what, truly. the encores are a hoot, a great time - we've worked in akinori now, three of the lites are w/us and each on a different number... gotta think of something for brother jun.

   so many kind folks when the music's over and the slingin' begins. a lady named maria gives me a scarf that says "watt from pedro" on it, how very kind. much words of encouragement like always here in the twin cities, fucking up front honest stuff for me, I gotta try harder is what I'm inspired to do - thank you, good people. grant is here - yatta! he helps raul out w/packing up the drums, helps me find a booth to sit and gets betsy who comes over w/her husband miles. miles tells me his first mix was doing me at the seventh street entry and he I stormed off the stage and came at him in the booth - I asked him if he could fix my glasses cuz I busted them, it was not the hissy fit he feared. I laugh big time hearing this recollection. nat from the first ave is here, hugs, love him. no steve mcclellan or greg norton though... miss them both but giving them great wishes from heart. damn if the happening turf club cats don't donate a keyboard stand to us, very VERY kind, thank you much!

   a soundman coworker of miles named john offers us his pad not too far away, much appreciated. he's got two room mates, one from south dakota like him (tony) and the other from wisconsin (will). all three of these cats are great - oh yeah, so is the friendliest ever wonko (dog) leroy who's just a lover. tony's got some happening rye and we spiel like two and a half hours about all kinds of shit, like tolerance for one thing... and travelling around learning stuff - these cats are early twenties but alert in the head big time and a joy to be w/and discussing things. I don't know, I was just in the mood to hear from them and do a little spiel myself - more than thirty years dividing us that meant absolutely nothing... BIG TIME respect to them. on their couch I konk happy.





monday, october 8, 2012 - chicago, il


from tom:

   in the morning tony and john have some coffee and a stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, i cant remember that last time i had one, and somehow it's perfect. we have a pretty long drive again today so we get on the road asap. we have to drive across the whole state of wisconsin, no shows here this time. after doing the first shift, mike gets some asleep in back as i drive past signs for the cheese shops off the highway, i think of maybe waking him to see if wants to stop to get some curds like we usually do, but we figure he's still not feeling that great and decide to let him rest and just push on through. that was a mistake. when i stop for gas outside madison he asks if we can stop for curds and we already passed that section of the state. damn it, i love them too. we get to chicago, and load in at schubas'. after we check i get a tap on my shoulder and it's spot from the old sst days, a great surprise. he has been living in austin for years but recently relocated to sheboygan wisconsin and decided to make the drive south to check out our show. it's always great to see him, and we have lots to talk about, like always. after the lite brothers check we all go next door to get some food at the restaurant that's connected to the venue. i have a caesar salad with steak on top, so tasty. the music room fills up and i watch lite blow peoples minds and then we try to do the same. after the show we have to find a place to stay, and a very kind guy named mike offers us his basement. to me, the sound of a basement to sleep in brings to mind cement, dust and mold, but when we get to his house it's quite the opposite. full carpeting, two pin ball machines, a bedroom with a full bath, and a full bar set up. his sweet wife, tara is a physical therapist who does massage and acupuncture and she give me a hand massage that is incredible. kind of perfect. we stay up for a couple of hours, beer and pin ball and spot shows us photographs that he took in south bay l.a. where i grew up. black and white images of skaters and punk rock from the late seventies. awesome pics. it was a good night. i go to sleep on the bed with raul.

   mood: 7.2, health: 5.0, energy: 5.0



from watt:

   pop at seven bells - we gotta bail early cuz of kind of a hellride. we gotta transverse the entire state of wisconsin to get to chicago. big hugs for john and tony, good luck to them. it's a gray morning and maybe some sprinkles, good time to get cuz the weather's changing. east on I-90 and soon we're over the border - bye bye minnesota and not far into wisconsin I pull over for gas and it's got a subway in it... raul gets my tuna/pickles/olive/mustard one while I fuel the boat. we listen to sock-tight and jon wayne as if it were a prescription for better health. fuck, it is... mental health!

   I remember this highway, only time I got a ticket - cuz the world salivation ministry was following too close actually, never made that mistake again. it was the last time the minutemen headlined a tour, twentyseven years ago this fall. usually these hills and dairies are real green but I'm seeing much brown and yellowed. of course some of the maples trees got autumn colors but I think the drought got up here too. we pass the chippewa river which I take notice cuz raul's ma is part chippewa and fucking if a bald eagle doesn't do a little bit flying over us - I shit you not. I holler for the guys to look and they see it, the white mantle and everything. I can't get it w/my camera, damn it cuz it's kind of twisting and moving fast. it's only the third time I've seen them in the wild - first was in utah, the second in colorado and now the third here in wisconsin. everyone in the boat is fucking amazed, what a trip. further up I pull into a rest area w/a plaque w/info on the winnegao (I've discovered less chance of dawdle getting fresh ponies at one of these things w/the tomodachi) and ask the tomodachi if they saw the washi (eagle) - none of them did, none! well, probably most of them were konked.

   time for me to konk now - tom and raul both take turns at the reins while I'm out like a log, missing my chance to get curds w/dill and garlic, oh well. I fucking needed it cuz of my windbagging last night, I truly did. I pop right before we get to the border w/illinois. the traff is total plug getting into big shoulders town, I konked again but both raul and tom did good and we miss the load-in by only eight minutes. turns out soundman frabrice and his helperman daniel ain't here yet but we can set up our stuff and that's what we do. this pad is called "schuba's" and my third time here. what's really happening is they got parking for us - parking for the tomodachi too, yatta! look who's here to say hi - it's my dear old buddy spot and he's here on the way to madison to meet w/hank tomorrow. yeah, that sounds kind of trippy cuz spot now lives in sheboygan but spot's got his own individualism and I love it, love him. we have a good rap, a good one. I gotta chow and damn, we got a extra ticket so I flow it over to spot. besides the happening parking and nice cats behind the bar, they got good chow at this pad too, oh man. after soundcheck w/fabrice, I order what's on the blackboard: chicken friend steak. now this is pretty north for something like this but damn if it ain't fucking good! mashed potatoes and green beans too. I recommend to the tomodachi too and they all get it. the prob is this is a real early show so maybe they got twenty minutes after they all clean their plates - I mean they all cleaned theirs up big time... where do they put it? none of them got bells, damn! anyway I go to the boat just to rest my eyes a little...

   fuck if they only got three tunes when baka-ass pops and I burst from the boat to get in the pad to see what I can - the gigboss john had already met me and fill out the paper you stuff you have to at these kind of things but asks for a ticket at the hatch, what? "oh, it's you" and I say "I gotta see lite" and he waves me through... I go straight to front and get my finger pointed at brother jun right as his heavy part in their "ef" tune comes up - maybe I'm an inch away from his nose, didn't mean it! the sound is so good - where the bands play at this pad is an old-timey wood trip that just resonates so well and is fucking happening. lite gets done and all four guys said it was a little difficult w/the heavy guts but damn if they didn't bring it and damn if the chi-town gig-goers were just the kindest to them. later our host mike will say he was in the crowd and could just feel the tomodachi win the crowd over w/their hard work, "earning it" he said. do tell, brother, do tell!

   ok, our turn and damn, third night in a row for this flannel w/out a wash and it's got a weight to it (it's wet). probably got an order to it as well but I'm in tour mode and there priorities - we ain't talking angle of the tiara either, in fact no tiaras on any of these men w/our two boats. it's all ganbaro. lite brothers have us fired up and also got the gig-goers going as well - could you want anything more? well, I could've not hit my 'g' tuner on raul's cymbal and had been in tune when we bring the piece but some quick turns and some luck get me pretty much in by the third part... there's some clams out of me and even tom blows some but in the scheme of things I think we brought lots of it out good and am happy w/both us making the piece live and the chicago folks being so kind w/focus and not a single yammer, it was big time respectful like you wouldn't believe - what beautiful people. I call for a konk pad from the stage and a kind fellow bassman named mike approaches tom while I sling - lots of cats from gigs past and some new ones like chef simon and his buddy jun (same name as brother but different cat). no larges to sling but folks don't mind, so kind this way too. the town I was conceived in is so many times so nice. I get told good vibes from the electrical audio team, yeah! much respect to them. our decorator's union guy gives props, damn, many cats w/goodwill - deep bow from watt for everyone!

   wow, we're ready to pull anchor by eleven, very happening! gigboss john had gone home but the lady behind the bar had the envelope and her co-worker, well he had the soda water w/the lime in it too! good cats, bye bye! thank god we got the address for his pad so herr garmin (the gps) can help us cuz he's out in oak park, towards the 'burbs of chicago and there's some navigation for us gaijin (foreigners - we live in so cal). the "basement" he referred to is not just your typical cement floored trip where the washing machine is. no man, you go down these spirally submarine-style stairs to find it's got fully carpeted deck, a bar w/some happening small batch rye from iowa and get this: a pinball machine, actually two but one's on the fritz. the tomodachi (friends) go right for the flipper kicker, much hollering as they wag the paddles in turn. spotski shows me some of his old pictures - he's gonna have a book and a show in new york city sometime next year, omedeto (congrats) to him big time! our host mike's wife cuts us up some fruit, helps w/stuff for nobuyuki's cat allergy and gets into doing major rubs on tom to help him w/hurts which in itself is a wrestle but it releases clogged up kinked lameness and some for raul too and his hand. mike and tara are just great folks, truly happening and generous. later I find out from raul I just kicked out one of my legs w/the other to do a big time timber and was out. ok, I was most gratefully out then.





tuesday, october 9, 2012 - toledo, oh


from tom:

   we wake and tara makes us coffee before she has to go to work. soon we gather our stuff and lite follows us out of town. i've never played in toledo, i don't think i've ever actually been here before. when we drive into town it has a stillness that sort of creeps me. raul feels the same way. i don't exactly know why, but maybe the boarded up houses near the bar/venue we pull up to adds to that vibe. we get into mickey finn's and do a check and then raul and the lite guys and i go to a local legendary eatery called packo's to get some hot dogs. i guess that it got popular from passionate support that the actor who played klinger on the tv show mash, jamie farr gave to it. or so i gather. there are hundreds of autographed hot dog buns on the walls. i sit near ones signed by cyndi lauper and george bush, etc... the list goes on and on. i get a hot dog sandwich in honor of our friends from boise, bart and steph. it's great! the dog is splayed on fresh rye sandwich bread, with spicy mustard and pickles. i think it was only $2.95. i bring one back for mike. the night goes on, not my best performance by a long shot. i try to let it go, so i talk with akinori about it to get it out of my head. i am usually good at letting things roll off my back, just move forward, but i think i was tired and i feel emotional for some reason. in any case, i help load out, we wait till mike is through with his merch and greet with the local peoples, and then we head to dan and chris' place to stay for the night. chris has tons of food prepared for everyone, bbq, deep fried perch which he caught himself (i'm sure mike will cover the details on this). however, i am too tired to join the fun in the back party room. i fall asleep with my clothes on and at some point mike wakes me to invite me to the feast but i just can't tonight.

   mood: 6.3, health: 4.9, energy: 5.0



from watt:

   pop at eight bells and do big soak in the head they got here that's all blue, trippy - our host mike said it was a stanley kubrick thing. whoa, ain't soaked in a tub in a while... it's long and yeah, it's blue. other host tara helps w/some tea for throat soothing before she has work (mike already had to bail) and maybe by nine and a half we pull anchor. big hugs for spotski, it was great to spend some time w/him and he's in great shape. forgot to say I met his sheboygan bud teak so maybe one day I do a gig up there way.

   skies are blue but there's kaze (wind) blowing. through chicago's southside on I-90, much rude driving like what can happen anywhere - I would never blame this town though there was some last night too... raul tried to make it regional but then we reasoned it out thinking about every road we've been on everywhere - us humas are funny w/machines in our power - maybe extensions of some mood trip? maybe just careless? maybe just a clam like on stage?! can be intense consequence though. I'll tell you this though: these parts and indiana too (we cross into soon as we clear chi-town) there's a fiftyfive mph limit that is big time scoffed - but not by us and hell if I want the tomodachi having to deal w/that so we keep it in the posted zone. we pass a town called danville - does "pretzel logic" play constantly there? indiana signs say a thousand dollar fine and we several pullovers - one right at the toll road ticket-getting place at the indiana toll road. there's a time zone switch and we lose an hour passing into eastern daylight time. many "gentlemen clubs" go past the window, maybe cuz of all the truck traffic? that's tom's guess. me, I sincerely believe there are only gentlemen there, both the clients and the help. no?

   at lake station we get fuel, raul getting my usual when at a subway chow pad (tuna and...) - I find some earplugs that are supposed to be pressure relief for airplane flights. raul at the wheel, he gets to battle some wind but like I said, the skies are blue. I haven't played toledo since 1998 and that was my first time ever - the last tour for the first opera at a pad called "frankie's" - it's the version of the black gang that's gonna have an album called "my shubun no hi" coming out soon as I mix it. I asked nels to play his most psychedelic ever (bob lee on the drums). this time we're at a pad called "mickey finn's pub" and we make a few minutes before load-in was scheduled, good guessing at what we need to do be where we need to be - herr garmin got confused but some common sense to temper that shit has worked out, huh? I think it's baka to completely to give into those machines though if you ask me. stay human, people! after soundcheck I meet dan mcguire an old friend who's a poet and a teacher - the main reason I wanted to play toledo back in '98 and now cuz he's from here. I first met him as a gig-goer twentytwo years ago and have collaborated w/him on what will soon be tour unknown instructors albums - I respect him big time. I have to do some q and a for spiels about upcoming gigs on this tour and do that 'til ken and joe from reverend (they built ronnie's guitars) comes to show me three prototypes of a bass they're working on... I try all three and pick one to do for the gig tonight. I then meet the guys in the band opening tonight, locals called bikini babes though they're still missing their guitarman still - sorry. I like to meet those who share the stage w/us but I'm tuckered and head for the boat. tom brings me a hotdog sandwich (I shit thee not) from a pad called packo's and it's good but later tom said he got sent to the wrong one. I trust tom and raul to get me good chow cuz these guys really know me. I konk fucking hard soon as that chow (there's pickles and pepperchinis too) is consumed.

   I pop w/only a few tunes from our lite brothers left in their set (damn it) but hell if they don't get folks dancing and many of them thanking me for bringing them once they finish. man, you don't know how glad I am to do that, you don't know how glad. I love my lite brothers and want folks to experience them. they play so good but alas I have not such a good go - I will take responsibility and it cuz of the bass I worked, only a clam or two and I got used to some of enough to hit right notes but hmm... let me see - it was a character builder in ways that I usually don't use that and in ways I could've been more - uh, I don't know what but... it made me think a lot AFTER cuz the DURING THINKING only lamed out more and was more like flail than good reasoning. oh baka watt - to let the outside dominate the inside - I should've reacted to the sitch like I did the bass from ken and joe, "work the room" - laying trips on others is not good for anything except letting everyone know you got some probs yourself. crimony, old buddies bob teagan, chris rees and mel are filming and recording this - ha! actually pretty excellent karma when I think about it. I like the reverend bass but give it back to joe and ken cuz I like the dan one better. fuck, I forgot the encore - brother jun had the best moment of our set - all the lite brothers coming on and playing w/us turned around the foul mood I 'pert-near fell into and am so grateful. I can't stress how important it was for us for that to happen. nobuyuki danced up a storm w/leaps tonight too.

   so the drama behind us as we pull anchor, we got dan mcguire's buddy chris in the boat and he guides us to his pad in south toledo. we get to do wash right off the bat (it's like one cuz of the way late for a work night gig times) and then chris and dan unleash some bbq ribs and fresh fried perch - chris caught these a couple days ago from lake erie. man, is this chow good, the tomodachi love it! and there's some of that kind of rye tony had in saint paul too. dan loves roky erickson and jams that along w/the captain (man I miss him) - maybe three and a half in the morning when I gotta relent and timber on a couch in the front room. saying bye to bob, chris and mel who followed us here and are about to pull their own anchor for the michigan land they're from.





wednesday, october 10, 2012 - columbus, oh


from tom:

   i get up early and make tea. it's cool outside and i talk with jun on the deck for a bit. i'm sad that i missed the after show feast that chris and dan prepared last night, it must have been fun cause no one else is awake. i still feel the sickness inside, but we did laundry last night and my clean clothes make me feel good. slowly the clan arises, the lite brothers, raul, mike, and chris... dan comes in too. chris makes us more food, good stuff. he could run a restaurant for the amount of cooking he's done in last few hours. soon we go, the weather stays cool all the way to columbus. we are playing at a live music complex place, not the usual type thing for me here. we usually play near the university on high st. where there are little shops and restaurants. this place is very new and near the baseball stadium and downtown. i don't usually feel comfortable with these sorts of venues, but the people working the place all turn out to be very cool, and the room we're playing in is a cozy little space next to the big live room, so that eases all my concern. after checking raul and i walk for food in the high winds. we realize that downtown closes up after work hours, so we just walk and talk and go back to the club after an hour or so. chris at the club gets a menu for mike to order something and he gives raul and i a ride to the place to pick it up, and we decide to just stay and eat at the little restaurant and walk back later. raul and i do a lot of this sort of thing, he's great to tour with, we always have fun together. we walk through a nice part of town with amazing houses and stop for a cup of coffee half way. we get back to the gig a little later than i wanted, and we miss the opening band. lite kicks ass, again. afterwards, we make our way to joel's place for the night. a great guy with a killer pad. he shows us his guitar room upstairs, nice. a few travis beans, many gibson acoustics, beautiful stuff. i do a little jam with nobuyuki and i suggest we do a record together, maybe meet in hawaii?... i would love to do that. raul and i share the futon in the basement.

   mood: 6.9, health: 5.7, energy: 6.0



from watt:

   pop at fuckin' ten cuz I needed it. there was a point at six when I popped and ran outside to the boat for a bottle of water after pissing (no way is watt konk hours and hours straight w/out pissing in this stage of his life) to find someone in a pickup truck that's blocked in by a sedan w/the lights on and the engine running... I'm wondering he can't get out - is that chirs' roommate scott? I'm too tired to find out more and hobble quick back. I do know it rained last night cuz everything's wet out here. at ten when I pop for good it's a long wait for the head cuz the nakama are bogarting it, one at a time but you know what? they've been giving it each night in these towns after big hellrides so I'm thinking they very well deserve it. I talk to nobuyuki about change, how about your last gig can change you for the next one, let alone the next composition - I use the metaphor for even the strongest rock (for example: ones we saw in wyoming) get wind-changed or more obvious, sand dunes... I think about kobo abe and his "woman of the dunes" story and the movie made of it in the 60s - I first heard about from kristin kumamoto and it seem nobuyuki has first heard it from me! trippy cuz kristin is sansei (third generation) but I guess that's the way things some ways, I've learned lots of u.s. stuff from outsiders. another trippy thing: there's kafka influence maybe one could say in this kobo abe work, like w/newer stuff from haruki murakami - so much is connected, like me and mr bosch w/this third opera and yet so unconnected. I read somewhere my libretto has "no cohesive story" which very much means to mean there is also a huge gap in "connectedness" cuz though I ain't putting him at fault, he ain't seeing what I put in the spieling. that's the danger in putting shit out there and probably why we invented zippers or in my case, buttons cuz I hate getting caught up in zippers but that's the risk in hanging something out there, folks might misunderstand.

   like these nightmares I've been having, too embarrassing to chimp in this diary at this point but damn if I ain't having them every night and they can be a hell - even coming in a one fucking hour nap. I guess I gotta let them come though cuz maybe they're like a release valve.

   chris makes us up some scrambled eggs, sausage and bacon while dan makes and butters toast. I have a little folder sandwich of some but I'm still stuffed from all that great chow last night. raul's foaming about the virtue's of tobasco's chipotle sauce - what? he's gotta be just jonesing from the really good stuff we sometimes are lucky to find.

   there's clouds from last night's rain but the weather's still ok despite a wind blowing pretty strong. herr garmin puts on some little roads to get us to columbus, one of them is actually us-23 that goes to ann arbor in michigan, home of the asheton brothers. the maple trees w/their fall colors are bitchin' and some of the road is totally canopied - so glad the nakama get to check that out. they got that in their land too but here I get to show them ours. I make the whole drive, it's only three hours to columbus but we do stop where I get a hot dog w/nobuyuki cuz he spots out a deal where you can get two for $2.22 - he's getting the hang of econo!

   man, I haven't played columbus since dan dugan had to close his "little brothers" pad. where we're playing tonight is near the tripple-a baseball field and is called "the basement" which is part of another way bigger pad, a sort of gig complex and the cats working there are all very kind w/no 'tude at all. nate's the soundman and chris is the gigboss, they're happy to have us aboard and help big time. there's shirts waiting for us from bill and barbara. we take them on board. after soundcheck, gigboss chris suggests a chow pad called betty's on high street after tom and raul searched forever on foot and found only closed or lameness. I pick parmesan pork loin. there's two in box when it comes (he went and drove there) so I give one to the nakama and they say it tastes like tonkatsu - yeah, I love tonkatsu!

   locals harboring ghosts are opening and damn if I remember kazuto-san asking me about them, if it was ok for them to be on the bill and of course I trust him big time. they're good and I ask them if they've heard of godspeed ye black emperor and they tell me yeah. trippy thing is lite nakama didn't know of them. they dig them though and we all watch their set.

   ok lite next and I can see they're a little tired but they don't let it get them down. I watch from the side and can see some hihat clutch probs w/akinori and some cable/pedal stuff w/brother jun but they keep their spirit way up. the gig-goers give them much respect and yet again, like every gig we've done w/them in the u.s. I get thanked so many times for bringing them aboard. hell, it's big time honor for me, big time!

   ok, time for me to make up for last night. I feel a little bit tired too maybe... however I am going to try hard to rally and tom told me he is too so that motivates me even more. I think raul had a better time last night but he tells both he's there for us - when has he not? never! before we start the piece I tell them about the first minutemen columbus gig where the person who dukowski said he had set up a gig through (chuck booked the first minutemen tours) denied it ever was (bullshit, I trust chuck) and the good cats at "stache's little brothers" across from that "why not?" bar put on a gig for that very night w/only a afternoon to put up fliers and tell folks - they were so righteous to us. respect. we being "hyphenated-man" and tom's guitar is accidentally blasting the fuck out of my monitors into my face and I have to break the spell of the piece by the end of the second part ("beak-holder-letter-man") and let nate know he's gotta pull it out but we never stop playing, just kindly relate that to him in the soft coda part. I think we rally really good from last night, really good. it takes a real team to do that and I'm most grateful to tom and raul, truly. the columbus gig-goers are beautiful too, some sing me "for he's a jolly good fellow" when we end. that's never happened before, that's so nice of them.

   I ask for a pad to konk at for us while I sling, later tom says a very kind man named joel who had recently hosted ed fROMOHIO and his band food after a gig here has offered up his pad, most appreciated. two young men who were at the toledo gig that are actually from cleveland came for round two tonight, much respect to them! there's much kind word from people, much. I go to settle w/chris and get to meet some of the crew here that are happy to see me. man, a very good vibe here - give every day (and night) another chance I think is the lesson.

   at joel's I got the couch in the front room. he says it folds out into a futon but I keep it as is - he brings two blankies and then a third one. he shows me a righteous 70s fender telecaster bass that got a p-pickup put near the bridge to go w/the fat neck humbucker. three bolt neck but I like the way it plays - wonder how it sounds? him and his buddy are cool people and we talk for a little before down w/the konk mask. sure was great to work the room in columbus again.





thursday, october 11, 2012 - philadelphia, pa


from tom:

   we have maybe our longest drive of tour today, 9.5 hours. all the way from the middle of ohio across the entire state of pennsylvania to phily. we all take a time behind the wheel and push hard to get to philadelphia early enough to stop at john coltrane's house to get pictures with lite before soundcheck. i have the last shift and the traffic is heavy while we pull into town, crazy drivers too. so, we have to pass on stopping and go straight to the north star bar. we play with locals, split red tonight. we've played with them before and they are very sweet dudes, so tonight will be fun. i like playing here, the stage can be viewed from the floor or from a balcony just above it, it's a cool set up. raul and i go out for a walk and then i realize that i spaced out and left the brand new electric hot water kettle at chris' place, damn it. so, our peaceful walk turns into a frustrated quest for a cvs to buy a new one. at least for me. actually, i still really enjoy the walk, but i feel dumb leaving that kettle behind. it was only 2 days old! we do, however, find a cvs and the same kettle, and i buy it with the plan to not even mention it to mike, in order to avoid any further shame. we hoof it back and catch split red do their thing. they are intense, hard to describe, which i like. frenetic jazzy punk, great playing, very tight, and tonight is their new drummers first gig! after the show we head over with stephen from split red to crash on the floor. which i do almost immediately.

   mood: 8.4, health: 7.7, energy: 8.2



from watt:

   pop at eight bells and joel shows me his room w/his "babies" which are old guitars and some basses. wow. now I know why I was alone w/him and his buddy last night cuz the rest of the crew must've been going crazy jamming on these "babies" of his. the pad's righteous too, lots of old-timey and damn if it ain't the antithesis of a hamster cage - much respect! such kindness from him, wish we could chow at this pad he likes close by but we gotta pull anchor. yeah, there were folks at the gig last night who claimed "six hours tops" but after consulting w/herr garmin and other resources and know about potential dawdles when the anchor gets dropped - oh yeah, maybe some construction? whatever, I'm guess eight or nine.

   it's bright blue skies, cold but good driving weather. we don't need the heater though, have used it very little since that snow in denver. pretty farmland as we roll east on I-70 but then a fucking weird thing... not too much west of zanesville (yeah, named after the western writer - you know he ended up on catalina island, right off my pedro town?), this hombre in a car marked k9 (maybe for dog) is in the median w/the radar gun and ok, I'm right on the limit cuz damn if I ain't got california plates on the boat in parts other than california when this guy charges out and rides my bumper w/in inches for miles and miles. of course I still do the speed limit cuz that's what I do - I don't fucking speed in the boat, I don't speed w/my men in the boat - I try to obey every traffic rule there is - the only place I try to bend rules is w/music. so this guy won't relent - car after car speeds by but does he let go of this blatant use of selective enforcement? no. he gets on my wing and tries to ride a blind spot but I won't look in the mirror except safety glances of course - I ain't dong anything wrong. he is sheriff though and the county line must be coming ahead cuz he finally bolts ahead. I don't change anything, not just about the last twenty minutes but since the tour started. I am not perfect but I believe in driving safe. sure enough he raced just ahead of where the next county is and is on the side of the w/his radar gun - sure you can point at me but it will tell you I'm obeying the law. it was weird scene. tom wanted me to try some of that jolokia "ghost chili" sauce ryan gave me last night (good to see ryan again, such a long time!) but I told him to hold off - in zanesville I fule the boat and use it then on a sandwich called "the best" from a blimpie chow pad that's a combo w/the gas station cuz I wanted the lite brothers to experience something to compare w/the subway chow pads. this one I got tastes like an italian sub w/the oil/vinegar/cold cut thing and w/the soft bread and four drops on each half of the jolokia sauce, I like it. damn if them chilies ain't got heat, crimony!

   we continue on 'til where in west virginia a bit, through wheeler (much oldage) and then across the border to start our journey cross state on the pennsylvania turnpike. not too far for watt here though, at the pennsylvania welcome center, I hand the wheel over to raul. we're splitting this ride three ways and I go back to the bench seat to konk hard. oh yeah, as far as sounds in th boat goes (you know about the sock-tight and jon wayne), I put together a playlist of the very first clash releases cuz we've been asked to do a strummerville benefit up in hollywood a couple days after my bday in december. it's stuff like "1977," "hate and war" and "complete control" - stuff like that and nothing from the second album or later. that's the only stuff me and d. boon knew but we dug it much. I'm so surprised how tom doesn't know it - raul does - tom's into it though. I have to konk - I miss the beautiful fall colors and there's probably the most tunnels we go through this tour though I miss them cuz of deep konk which I needed but actually need more... 1at a service area (that's the way turnpikes work) a bit west of where the gettysburg pike is, tom provides fresh ponies to relieve raul... $3.92/gallon at these pads for gass - fuck, a bunch of miles down the road I realize I had the konk mask on where I thought it was the orange knit hat - I had been konking for almost all of raul's shit on the backbench... tom and raul think though I would've looked insane w/either on - aaahhh, for a moment I'm embarrassed. back on the road, east and more east through "deer hunter" country...we pass under "pepperidge farm road" - fuck, ain't that supposed to be in new hampshire? there's a truck playing leapfrog w/tom. we finally are blessed enough to have this prick pull take an offramp out of lives about thirty miles from valley forge. that's where we hit plug and slow to a crawl. $21.90 for the toll to get across pennsylvania. this traff is like back in so cal but tom does real good. we get to the venue a quarter after six, not much late at all.

   the pad we're playing tonight is the "north star bar" and it's the only gig and actually town that our lite brothers have played before. I chow part of a steak sandwich while do a real good spiel w/theo from paradigm magazine who's just twentyfive but damn is this cat deep! really sincere too and asks me stuff that I find really important - perspectives on existential things that to me are mindblows to ponder but cuz of that, important to get into. we do souncheck w/soundman adam and then I go to the boat out back and konk hard.

   fuck, I konk so hard I miss both split red and lite - the only gig of lite's I've missed all tour and damn I wanted to see steve, travis and his crew (new drummerman ricardo) so bad... man, am I pissed at myself but what could I do? I tried just to close my eyes for a bit and usually the sounds of lite booms through the bulkhead and wakes me but not this time...

   I use that frustrated feeling to fuel my wrestling w/the piece tonight w/tom and raul. the phily gig-goers are bitchin' cool w/giving us big focus and lots of respect - very kind of them. I know johnny g is out there cuz I saw him earlier, same w/timmy and strider - lots of good folks are kind to me and my men here. I think we do real good, we continue the rally we started last night - thank you tom and raul, thank you. we have a wild fun time w/the nakama for encore, a blast!

   we load up and I get to meet the boss sloan and settle w/andrew, glad they've had me aboard once again (three times now?) and also much appreciative of stephen and his pad in west phily, the one that's 111 years old. so kind of stephen too to pedal on his bike to roust some yuengling beers - unique to these parts. travis comes to talk and a drummerman friend - we hit many topics and have a good time w/them. I konk on the sofa where I fist sat my ass and conducted my end of the spiels from, horizontal but mind engaged cuz these cats are most interesting. lucky watt.





friday, october 12, 2012 - brooklyn, ny


from tom:

   we have a leisurely morning waking with stephen. he got us coffee and bagels and i have some yoghurt with muesli too. we sit on the porch and talk and meet his friend sydney. a very nice beginning to another day. we have a short trip to brooklyn, and we get to the bell house by 4. this is a great venue, an old stage theater type place that's been renovated for rock gigs. tonight is a little sad cause it's our last show with lite, they fly home tomorrow morning. we are also playing with the band mi-gu from japan. they're good friends with mike and lite too. a very sweet and talented couple, ms. yuko on drums and mr. shimmy on guitar. shimmy shows me his amazing hand made guitar cables and pedals. he has a gold strat too. awesome. we decide to order japanese food to be delivered, and we all get the same thing, ton katsu with miso soup, and some california sushi rolls. it hits the spot. raul and i do our walk, just a short one this time, i'm not familiar with this area so we stay close. the show is really fun, mi-gu is great and lite blows peoples minds, and it feels like everyone has a good time. i have to run out to the van twice to get more shirts, much merch sold. cool. we load and head to raul's friends, jen and shell's place, an amazing warehouse space complete with parking for the vans!!! they have a band called shellshag and they had to play a show tonight too, so we all celebrate together, giving lite a farewell toast, and also to mike because he has to go to austin in the morning for a stooges gig. a bittersweet occasion, we will miss lite so much. it gets late, there is drinking and fun until i pass out on the fold out couch.

   mood: 8.4, health: 8.0, energy: 8.1



from watt:

   pop at nine bells, stephen's up and makes me coff and toasts up a bagel. on the porch we find righteous fall weather. whoa, there's a little songbird on the deck here, light green feathers and kind of puffed, breathing hard - one of the feet crumpled. I think its sick cuz it won't move and the eyes are barely open... what stephen calls "the porch cat" comes around twice and gets shooed by him - he says he's gonna wait a half hour and call someone if the bird's still here. it's 'pert-near right after he says that when the third pounce by the cat finds the little bird completely in his jaws, a litte "chee-p chee-p" farewell song as he's crunched - right in front of my eyes... I'm a little freaked out, oh my god. nature is a wailer of reality... I try to remember then author of that "pilgrim at tinker creek" book but can only remember here first name annie - now I remember it's annie dillard and the trip about this theodicy idea. damn, this experience was heavy. maybe the bird was sick and this was a mercy thing... fuck, I try to get my mind off it - I go upstairs and hose off and shave.

   so righteous of stephen taking care of us, even getting to wash what I got filthy. I tell him though we're twenty years apart, he sure has some parallel universe stuff going in the knowledge depart w/me, damn if that ain't a trip. respect to him and his disease I share w/him of the curious mind. we pull anchor and return to 'pert-near the same neighborhood we were in last night, in the fairmont park part of phily. this is where the first house john coltrane bought is and it's great to see not only has the sign been replaced telling about it (last time we were here it was gone cuz I guess a car had wiped it out in a wreck) but two men were working on restoring it. whoa. I really wanted to take our lite brothers here, it was important to me cuz john coltrane has said he believed all musicians were after some kind of truth and I get that kind of vibe from our nakama. this is the pad where john coltrane kicked junk too. I say a prayer for him, a silent one.

Mike, Tom, & Raul just left. They made it to Cherry Valley after rainstorm from Albany on their way to Buffalo & everywhere else in big boat Econoline. Wonderful gig in Albany last night. Just realized what his operas mean. They are grand compressed. Felt the cosmic variation vibration last night leaning on the walls of the joint. The Hyphenated-Man Bosch egg cd. A sleazy venue but punk tradition never compromised in slick venue. Everyone devotee tradition of Dante-Shakespeare -Bosh for the common hand. Don't see how they do it. Took photos downtown now Rose & Kettle of house we lived in when Burroughs came, Ginsberg, Carl Solomon, Malanga, Ron Padgett, Anne Waldman, Victor Bockris everyone. Some photos I hope will appear. My head is still getting over the Mike Watt band last night & visit today onto the future borrowing strength from the man inside himself. Kind of a sad gray day with no compass in my head. It was a venture for me to get out. As they left, the road was calling, but it's too much for my body. As Eiseley observed in his Platte River country, "Since the first human eye saw a leaf in Devonian sandstone and a puzzled finger reached to touch it, sadness has lain over heart on man."

-

Mike train running on time / Buffalo, Cincinnati, Nashville hoot loop too/ Econoline running fine/ Piece of crumbled brick from Coltrane's house joins the dashboard shrine. Cherry Valley visit at bottom of hoot, Oct 18. Hyphenated-happening music great vibrant sound across America/ Whitman resurrected-respected.

-

Pam [said] you were sound checking in Buffalo. Looks like you hit some good weather. Mutual friend of S.Clay's...underground cartoonists. Spain told he got started drawing motorcycle gangs in Buffalo. Danmit. I forgot to give copies of EAT NOT THY MIND to Raul & Tom. Can I send them to Pedro? Use that Dee Doc Dow for muscles & swelling!!! Charley

Yeah, I should have explained fireplace originally a Count Rumford, a German who figured out specific dimensions for a wide high and narrow fireplace that threw/spread more heat than the deep square fireplaces. They were deigned perfectly with oblong flue which acted as damper. You can find out about them by goolge Count Rumford Fireplace. We used it for a while. It is complicated because the chimney is great & wide and divided so that the other half of it serves the old cooking fireplace in basement with bread oven built to its side for correct warmth and the metal hook swings out main fireplace for pots, etc. like you see in 1700- 1800 in New England. Chief Joseph Brant has the same thing in his house.The Rumford was a popular invention before Benjamin Franklin and his cast stove. The chimney goes on up to the attic where there is a "dog leg" in it so it would be at peak of house. The Post & Beam attic is a huge space and dated after Civil War when they probably added it and the Victorian features around the roof which was probably Federal style trim originally. The problem became with such a massive chimney (without divider Santa would have no problem) the brick & mortar is compromised over the ages, so I had to install the modern "Fireplace Insert" which ruins the esthetic but can be controlled with bottom damper airflow and door to close that it will keep glowing hot coals until morning with door closed, Plus the main safety advantage was that it has a six inch stainless steel chimney pipe all the way to top inside the brick chimney. The Rumford was more period and could be converted back with just a screen in front of it if I was sure of open chimney. It did throw good heat but the advantage of the insert is complete control of air flow and long lasting fire into fireproof steel stove pipe inside chimney.

Was gonna warn you about el hombre on your bumper in our blighted region-- the only thing the guys with the Phillips screwdriver hats hate more than "outsiders" from distant states they think of as foreign and hostile is their own citizens. Driving. With licenses that haven't been suspended. Yet. I shit you not. I think the sons of bitches call it "trawling for buckeyes" or should.

Now then: speaking of doing a Grace Jones, that one Demos put on the FRONT of the boat was a humdinger-- pure love & duly & neutrally observed by the cats working the door, who obviously enjoy whackjobs cutting up-- I've always had a blast in their city-- we thought about a more scenic trek on the return with some mailbox baseball thrown in, but couldn't come to terms on a price for an aluminum bat with the one bar owner ready to part with one at that hour-- and let's face it, this is the only thing they should be used for-- OK, wait-- No. Might as well address GCDG. And RSV. General Club Din Generators. I believe you refer to them as yammerers. Aluminum. You could go aluminum on them, too-- but wait for RSV. That's my fantasy; there's a global Righteous Selective Virus coming to weed out the dickweed & the GCDG. Gone. Nobody we'll miss-- just them.

Let's pause here for a PSA:

"Do you suspect that you could be a GCDG? Is there any doubt? There isn't, is there? Well, here's a true and astonishing fun fact: THERE'S A REAL GOOD CHANCE THE PEOPLE NEXT TO YOU DIDN'T COME HERE TO HEAR ANYTHING COMING OUTTA YOUR JIZZHOLE SO CLOSE IT, FUCKWEED."

But that RSV's a sweet fantasy, no? Ample parking, too.

Hey, anyway I was really happy with the gig, truly. Raul & Tom were, too-- Raul said overall there were maybe one or two as good or better. Hot dang-- and I spazzed & had no idea Edward was gonna be there & OPEN. Holy fuck that was nice-- later we got to resume a conversation we started about a decade ago about the pros/cons of the RRHOF, aka "the Jann Wenner Petting Zoo." We all agreed that it could piss up a rope because Captain Beefheart isn't in it.

Let's see: for lagniappe we got Edward on The Red & The Black-- hot dang squared! New axe with those fIREHOSE bones? May it avoid the "gittar jail" of The Jann Wenner Petting Zoo and always get used. And here's a theory I'm gonna throw out there-- one time I heard J. Fogerty talking to Terry Gross on Fresh Air & he told her sometimes he sings "there's a bathroom on the right" just to fuck with people-- do you think Jimi said "bomber" instead of "farmer" sometimes, maybe not to fuck with people but just 'cause that's the signal his considerable dish was pulling in at that particular moment? Just wondering-- and...and... TOM & RAUL LOOK AT YOU. THEY DO! Honest to fuck! LET 'EM LOOK AWAY FOR FOUR SECONDS. Somebody could be keeling over on them from RSV.

Hey, you know how poor old Linus felt out there in the 'patch every Halloween waiting for the Great Pumpkin? I do. He felt like Uncle Ray waiting for watt to dress up like Felix Pappalardi JUST ONE Halloween. The humor of this, perhaps, is lost on watt. (Maybe not). But shit, I understand the reticence-- it would be a pain in the ass, it wouldn't be econo, too much etc. etc. I don't care. The tinted granny glasses, silk jockey pants, kimono, oxblood hi-heeled boots, blowout-kit frizzed 'fro-- I mean, the mix/match could go on & on-- (I've sent pictures you know, including his infamous mota-leaf getup). So I challenge somebody reading this-- start a fucking blog or a facebook page or something: The Get watt To Dress Up Like Felix Pappalardi For Halloween Page. Oh fuck yes. It doesn't have to be this year...

Well, you asked me to write something, you know-- about the GIG, you respond? Well, it IS-- you has learned us gig-goers that our constructive input/feedback is expected/appreciated-- so go see if the truckstops are sellin' blowout kits-- fer yr HAID.

But anyway me bro, y'all are past the halfway point & from what I've seen & heard are a damn steamroller out there in the hinterlands-- all you ask of Raul & Tom is that they do the impossible in sometimes impossible circumstances over & over again & all they do is deliver every time-- & hey, it's all we've ever asked of you & you've NEVER let us down-- except maybe on the Pappalardi thing-- Now put out that psychedelic Japanese autumn thing (as us hillbillys call it) you did with Bob Lee & Nels Cline so we can all lose our shit...