"our oars became wings" tour 2002 diary - week 8

monday, june 3, 2002 - fort collins, co


from tom:

   in the morning I wake in some heavy heat and wash up. we move out and hit a laundymat before getting on the road again. it's only and hour or so to ft. collins and when we get to the club we ask about a movie house near by and get directions and a car lent to us so jerry and I go see spider-man. I'm a sam raimi fan so I check out all his films and even though this one's a big budget movie it still has his cheesy humor and over the top effects and it was totally entertaining.

   we get back to the venue and load in at 5:30 and then the brides show up and we go through our routine and hang out together downstairs as the dark clouds start to approach and begin to drop some rain. we try to get in touch with our friend bill stevenson but we learn that he's out of town, too bad. jerry and I go find some food at a place we tried to eat at last fall and I have a bowl of tortilla soup and a dinner salad. we tell the waiter about the gig and then head back to the club and wait for the first band to go on. it's a monday night and with the rain I'm thinking that it might not be such a great turn out but as the first band leghorn plays people start showing up and by the time the burning brides begins there's a decent audience. when we go on it's pretty full and the sound is good so we play well. our set is about an hour and twenty minutes and we finish at about 1 am. faith and levi offer us a place to stay and they seem like real nice people so after our pack up and load out levi hops in the van and navigates to their house. it's perfect, a driveway for the van a couch and two beds. before going to sleep I go with levi to the 24 hour market and pick up some stuff for the morning and when we get back I hit the sack on a very comfortable matress and that was that.



from jer:

   I awake in my room to the sound of the fan blowing on me. my bladder is my alarm clock. as I sit on the pot I notice the bathroom theme is all playboy. magazines and shower curtains. I check out a few articles and then check to see if everyone is up. mike is chimping in the living room while tom is already walking about the house. our short drive gives me time to shower up and shave. I ask mike about doing laundry and he's found a mat close by. we proceed and get the clothes done. I chimp some waiting for the dryer cycle. I fold and hop back into the boat for the short haul up I25 to ft. collins. it's a different place than last time. the ogden theater. mike finds parking in the back and I go to investigate the surroundings. the club is large w/a cap. of about 750. I wander up front and meet the manager ken. he's very cool and helps us out w/a beer. I ask 'bout where a post office and movie theater might be. the post office is no problem, only a couple blocks from here, but the movies are a 15 min. drive. with all this time it would be nice to check out a flick. ken then offers, from the kindness of his heart, the use of his car for myself and tom. whoa! thanks so much bro. he gives us quick directs and were off to the show. I hope to see the new star wars, but we have to settle for the spiderman screening instead. the time issue. I immerse my mind into the story and enjoy the movie completely. tom's already seen it, but its no matter to him as he doesn't care about seeing it again. the movie's done and we jump back into ken's t-bird for the ride to the theater. mike's waiting and we load in for the sound check. soundguy joe gets the monitor thing set up then does the f.o.h.. if any problems arise, he'll have ta run back during the show and climb the loft to the monitor board. I mention to jason of the brides our trip to the movies as my escapism for the mind. mike hears this and start throwing very negative spats at me. he must think I want to escape the tour, which is not true. I only meant it has a therapeutic value for the brain. he walks away w/the wrong idea about what I said. w/all the checking done make my way to the boat and chimp for a hour or so. the rains come and the lighting show is spectacular. soon my hunger grows within and I stroll the street w/tom looking for a bite. there's a nice pad 1 block down that we had to pass on last tour due to the overcrowding. this time the weather is keeping the masses away. I order a smoked salmon salad and a glass of cab.. the food is good and the waiter zachary has done a fine job. we mention to him that were from out of town and playing across the street. being in a band he's interested in the show. I offer a guest list spot for him and a friend. we then return for the openers.

   I sit downstairs and talk w/the brides while resting on a couch. driving hazards takes the forum and we tell of close calls. touring gives one a different view of the dangers of travel. we see many roadways and more scary situations than one can imagine. I start to knok and miss the first band as well as most of the brides set. I sense the end of the set and get up to wash my face off. it's a quick jolt back to alertness. outside I wake the boss and get the set lists for the show. w/the kit set up I wait on the side of the stage as mike walks up from the green room. in a split second he slips and falls on the steps. as he picks himself up I ask if he's alright. "that's not funny jer! fuck man don't laugh!" he screams at me. I didn't even laugh, I just asked if he was alright. I tell him what's up? not another misunderstanding. I sit at the kit and we continue to exchange some words. I'm intent on settling this one right now. this negativity shit has got to stop. we start the show and I'm still kinda fuming. my tension is released on the skins. about have way through mike seems to notice my disdain and makes a gesture of him being tossed off the stage in a humorous manner. I somehow crack a smile and feel some lessening of the friction. the set concludes and it's a low clam event. only 3 encores tonight as we finish the show.

   I meet this guy levi that had offered to mike his pad for the night and he's willing to help w/the load out. I'm glad for the extra effort 'cause of the rain outside. we dash and load to make our quick escape. levi rides w/us to make the trip smooth. he does get a little lost, though we do make it safely. inside I meet levi's wife faith who offers us drinks and food. downstairs is an extra room w/a bed that I humbly accept and take my withered body to for a hopefully restful night. I do call kel before sleep time and talk for a few mins.. we say our good-byes and I'm out in a flash.



from watt:

   pop and feeling restless so I forego hosing off and immediately take to hoof. cloudless blue tent for a sky above - a taunt? you know how the mind gets, waiting for things... hankering - or dreading... aaaarrrrgghhhhh, the price of being aware or maybe seemingly aware, partially aware, aware only of what appears aware to us? serious navel-gazing now, huh watt? I can get in these states easy sometimes. the pain from the toes have subsided enough to save me from limping and I can hoof ok. this is very much residential but not track homes - an older neighborhood. I follow the street as far as it goes west and then turn around and do the same east. the toes hold out ok. I get back and a cat there makes me some cof, wish I could remember his name cuz he's a nice man but I must surrender this one to adversary alzheimer - damn. he gives me the cof and then bails. I roust my men, no one else is up so we have no one to thank but I find a picture in my 'puter bag that someone gave me of myself playing w/lee ranaldo last summer (it was us riffing and improvising to james joyce's "finnegans wake") and write "mike watt thanks you" and leave it by the door. hope ryan, mark or laura got it.

   I passed a laundromat while I was hoofing and we go there to do wash. tom and jer go off to scour for chow while I chimp diary. you gotta seize upon wash pads when you see them cuz you never know how long it might and worry might loom over if your outfit supply will hold out. we finish our stench scrub and head over to I-25 and take it north. only a hour drive. looks like they're gonna track home and strip mall the entire space between denver and fort collins. oh boy. we pass a couple of turf farms, where they grow grass for lawns. trippy. it's also a trip how all this suburbia starts here cuz eastern colorado is very much empty. just east of here is the rocky mountains, very beautiful. it brings quick weather changes though and clouds are filling the once empty skies. we find the pad we're playing tonight, the aggie theatre, a new place for me. seems it's a converted movie theatre. last time I played here, I was at the starlight and this place is owned by the same cat. after docking the boat in the rear lot, I go down the street and get some soup and a caesar salad. the soup is a trip, it's a cold one that's dill and what tastes like sour cream in it. good though. I return to find that the manager, kevin, is loaning tom and jer his car so they can go see a movie. I go into the aggie to have some soda water. kevin's gotta bail so he has eva get it for me. we start talking about how I got to do what I do. her brother was into black flag and stuff so she knows some about punk. all the physical stuff at the gigs put her off so she says she became a hippy. it's funny for me to hear about someone young and in these days deciding to be a hippy. I thought that stuff was over when I was young, in the 70s. she obviously knows about punk from the hardcore scene and not much about the 70s stuff. I tell he about what excited me about it, the glam and rocky horror picture show roots and the old hollywood days. I told her how boring college was for me, especially the social life there and how I was much more attracted by the weirdness of pogoing to crazy sounds and bigger than life personalities. I met some incredibly intelligent people there, raymond pettibon was one of them - smarter than any people I met at college. it was very exciting for this guy living in pedro to make the drive to hollywood and get in on the underground energy there. it seems like so far away in timespace now but in other ways, I feel those days still rushing in my blood. it was very inspirational to me, it's hard to describe. glam and glitter was like that for me too even though I never dressed like that, I loved the music. w/punk, I did dress crazy for a bit 'til I got so much shit from squarejohns that I said fuck it and kept my punk look inside my head to dress up my ideas wild and on the outside, I just went back to wearing the clothes I did in high school and before. I wanted shit that was charged up and kinetic. for me, the hippy stuff like grateful dead or watever just didn't jolt me enough. I remember the black flag guys really being into that band - I never got that but it's cool. different pokes for different blokes - they might say that in england, huh? eva might trip on that but I never told her, I was to busy w/my own thoughts/history. she's patient to listen but I can't go on too long cuz I tire easy w/my throat and just general being under the weight of late tour duress. I must retire to the boat and chimp diary in silence.

   my cats get back and we do a soundcheck w/soundman joe. the brides show up. this is critical to our soundcheck since tom is using dimitri's amp - very kind of dimitri. the amp I brought for tom burned up way back in mobile and has been serving as boat ballast ever since. damn. damn too, for the skies have opened up w/much rain but maybe that's good cuz there's been drout here. can't expect the world to lay down for a watt tour (check the vain shit, watt). I try calling billy (descendents) but he's on tour overseas. damn. I dodge the shower dump and bolt for the boat. I konk there quick to sounds of rain falling on the top bulkhead.

   there's a local opener, leghorn and of course the brides but I konk too heavy to see either one. sorry, truly. a roust from jer brings me to consciousness. I had this strange dream which was about trying to figure how I was figuring into the dream. is that enough levels of crazyness? it was though I was a hearing and these people were trying to determine how I best I could help things. they were dressed very nice, they were very attractive too I could tell but not directly - it was if I seen them a long time ago and now I was perceiving them chiefly through memory. they were debating my case in very frank terms but I could tell they didn't want to hurt my feelings. this sensation was very strong in the dream, it was though these were the two main themes wrapped about each other: feeling sorry for me and wanting me to face the truth. I could see myself w/my hands and forearms on a table, like they were nailed there. I was trying to speak but I felt no sound coming from me, I could feel only my mouth hanging open. this piled up more embarrassing feelings in me. I felt embarrassed I had to be at this "hearing" at all. I knew it was for my sake and no one involved though I don't really know how. anyway, it was finally decided I should not have a physical presence, there was just too much, uh, you know - too much too much, too much me. it would be better if I would be funny stories and as a consolation, I could pick which funny stories could represent me. the meeting was over and I was dismissed, I was told to think about my story choices in my town, alone and w/out help. this where the dream left me, in the new pad I just moved in before tour w/all these boxes around me. I was wondering about these boxes, trying to determine which funny stories where in which boxes. since I had to go on tour and like an idiot, I forgot to write was in each box on the appropriate box, I was confused (this is very real - what I nightmare I have when I get done w/this tour) and at my wits end about finding the right way to fit in w/those people at the hearing. aahh, it was disturbing on me, a kafka fit. I got sweat even on my forehead. I put on my coat even the rain's stopped, it's kind of cold.

   start the gig. the dream has weirded me up some and I seem very preoccupied w/the compressor controls on the amp. I either set the threshold to high or the amount of compression for too much squish. hmm... I wonder why it was ok at soundcheck? I think I'm obsessing a bit on this which is lame cuz I should be focusing on the cats who've paid to see me. shit, the ones who haven't either - I should be fucking together period. I don't have much confidence tonight - it's pretty apparent. on top of this, jer's speeding things up - like last night. not bad but it did throw off "guts" last night and "liar's beware" tonight. we talked about it a little bit, I know he's trying and he'll do better tomorrow. he'd do a lot better if I was doing better. I do get things a little more together by halfway. I think besides weird dreams, I'm also frustrated by my voice getting worn out. it getting like this makes it tough cuz I feel I can't express things I want to try to. when my voice is in this shape, it's like I reach out and just can't grab it - aaaarrrggggghhhh, does it put a gnarl in my stomach. I can tell as the set goes on, I grow weaker and weaker in the monitors and it's not joe's fault - it's the idiot w/the bass on! the crowd is very kind and forgiving though and has us back. I'm only able to do two encore songs - last night was the last of the wailing encores for this tour, I'm afraid. that's a shame cuz I wish I could give back as much as I feel they're giving me. a hard gig for a hard case. oh well, I could console myself w/saying it's the fiftieth gig in a row - I did tell the folks that, apologizing for the hoarseness. it is true but I just don't want any copouts on my part. I'm glad tom and jer played good for the most part - very glad. I had been a little angry at jer for coming back from the movie and telling the manager kevin here it was good to escape. this pissed me off cuz he knew about the way the tour was going to go from the beginning and I really, I don't need that kind of shit especially at this point in the tour, when it's the toughest - you know, morale-wise. I ask him to please understand what I'm saying and put himself in my shoes. another thing that just before the gig, I tripped on the stairs and instead of grabbing for me, he just makes some loud sounds. I tell him about my bad knees and just try to keep me from getting hurt if he can - for me it'd be a natural reaction to try and grab someone who was falling. see, little things like this get thing weird on a tour. in the big scheme of things, jer's doing alright though I have to say I get hardly any of the same grief from tom. sometimes he lollygags a little when it's time to leave. to be fair, I have to admit that both my cats ave more to hit me over the head w/than I do w/them. they're both very kind and have the biggest hearts ever. even if I do have a problem w/something, all I have to do is explain where I'm coming from and they're both quite understanding. a lot of what confuses them is my weird over-reactions that I sometimes have - they have no idea why I'm acting the way I am. this is completely my fault and insane. it's a high priority thing w/me to get this better. I have no problem later on admiting to stupid shit and saying I'm sorry but it's in the moment where I have the trouble. anyway, thank you much, tom and jer - you are both true brothers to me, the best anyone could ever wish for as shipmates. I made fun of both these things during the set - fake pushing myself off the front of the stage and then mock laughing, dedicating songs to escapism - shit like that. I am a weirdo and shit doesn't stay in watt long - well, not if I can help it. one "real" thing that made the gig really tough though was having what george hurley would call a "totem pole" which by that he meant having to play a gig w/out first taking a dump when you had to. he said he pounded up inside him like a virtual totem pole, his face matching the ones carved on the pole. I think my "pole" was carved up from that steak kevin made us in lawrence, I think it was kind of a shock to my system cuz when I got done slinging, it was a motherfucker to deliver. damn.

   this couple, michael and sandra, offer us a pad to stay but like w/dan last night, it's too far to drive for watt after a gig. it's in cheyenne which would be great cuz it's wyoming (where my ma was born though on the other side of the state) but I just can't muster the energy. there's another couple, levi and faith and they live within blocks which along w/having a safe place for the boat is perfect. we take levi w/us after packing up and thanking all the folks here at the aggies plus some cat from a joe carducci label o&o band, drag the river, but fuck if I can remember his name now though I truly mean no disrespect. I should say the leghorn cats are great too - one's a bro of a friend who's buds w/my man dan from toledoland - plus, they're a good band. w/levi giving directs, we're at his pad 'pert near quick after overcoming a few street dobuts. I stake out the couch position in the living room as tom and jer do chow w/levi and faith. I've been rendered putty by yet another day of tour but that's ok - honest konk for honest work.





tuesday, june 4, 2002 - salt lake city, ut


from tom:

   levi is making some breakfast bagels when I wake and shave and go out to meet their little boy otis in the living room. otis is sweet little kid about three years old and I make some small talk with him as he watches some cartoons. this is our ideal situation for lodging and faith and levi are a great couple and make it a comfortable stay. we take some photos and say goodbye and get on the road to salt lake city.

   it's another long drive into wyoming and all the way across the state and I take over from mike at the wheel. when we enter utah the terrain is suddenly looking very familiar to the western environment we come from, and we enjoy the beautiful red rock bluffs and plateaus. the weather is clear and except for some gusty winds it's a perfect day. we roll into the liquid joe's parking lot at about 5 o'clock and we load in and talk with earl and charlie there for a while till the brides show up and then the sound man matt.

   after our checking jerry and jason and mel of burning brides and I run over to the thrift store that I always go to here and check out the selection. I ususally find something good but I leave empty handed this time and then jerry and I go to the long life vegi house chinese restaurant up the street which I also have gone to every time here. the food here is clean and reasonable and when we get back to the club our friend don dalton stops by to say he is sorry but he can't make the show tonight but gives us dirrections to his place where we always stay when we come through. don is an old friend of mike's from pedro and a great guy with his own band in town called new house. I'm sad that we won't be hanging out together tonight. mike is resting in the van and jerry and I sit with the brides in our little backstage room amusing ourselves. they are some great people and it is so nice to have that when touring, there's so much time to kill that it is more fun to have someone to kill it with. I have a couple weiss biers with lemon which is very refreshing in the dry air of salt lake.

   at 9:30 the burning brides start and in the club there are people sitting at tables on stools and I walk up on the dance floor right in front to hear them better and maybe get some other people to come up to. it works a little and I kind of help break the ice for the crowd and they really start to dig the music. the brides sound great and clear tonight they get much applause and after their set mel sells merch to the locals and then we start to get set up. the coltrane come on over the p.a. which signifies that we will start soon and it brings people closer to the stage and when mike walks up onstage with his bag of toys (t-shirts and posters) he almost knocks my guitar off the amp and I cringe thinking that could've been the end of the show. but no and we blast through a couple tunes and mike breaks a string and we pause a moment and then try to pick where we left off. the show is a little weak in points and the tempos are a little off sync but I think the people like it and we move on with everything we've got. sometimes the long drives have that effect on the shows. I have a good time anyway and at the end we get praise from the nice folks and sign posters and then load out and head to dan's place. when we get to don's we raid his fridge (which he gave permission to do) and don gets up and I say goodnight and go downstairs to sleep on his waterbed.



from jer:

   I've been tossing for some time in bed fighting the bladder valve. mike soon enters and wakes me fully while chimping on levi's 'puter. I pile upstairs and wash off the face to awaken. levi's got sausage pucks going in the kitchen and their little boy otis is chilling next to mike watching cartoons. I pack my stuff up and the family comes outside to see us off. we take a few snaps and wish 'em much thanks. I still have a sleepy head and take the bench for the first half knok. this ride is about 8 hours to salt lake and I sleep off half of it. somewhere in central wyoming I switch w/tom and do some chimp action in the shotgun stool. we skirt north of the high rocky peaks upon a plateau that has more calm grades. as we enter utah the terrain changes to more mountainous marvels. I take heed and snap many good shots out the window. plenty of peaks still have snow capping 'em and I think of winter time and snowboarding. we soon pass park city, one of the many sights of the last winter olympics games, and get a shot of the big ski jump. you know the one where the guys fly on the ski's down the insane jump that no one in their right mind would dare. soon were at liquid joe's and getting the gear out. the brides haven't arrived yet so I lounge in the green room and drink a beer. mike's done using the phone line in the office and I grab the laptop to do some e-mail shyit. w/the brides on sight we check and shuffle the gear to make room for our guests. when they finish mel and jason join us across the street at the thrift store. no good finds today and the place is closing in 5 min. anyway. tom and myself get a bite at this veggie china pad and return for the brides set. I chill in the green room and chimp while they play. I'm able to finish week seven and punch it to a disk.

   the b.b.'s are done and I wake the boss. just outside the next to the boat is a dude hurling his brains out while the girlfriend talks him through it. he turns and asks me if I'm w/the jom and terry show. after identifying myself he approaches to shake my hand. I tentatively reach out and ask if he covered w/blow by. I'm assured he's not and talk to the gent for a couple mins.. very nice and very drunk man who wants to bring some paintings into the show to be signed. I see no problem and suggest it be done after the show. "I'll buy you a drink if your still standing at the end of the night. "I say to the man. mike's up and I return inside for the show. don dalton usually attends the gigs, but had to baby sit his daughter and dropped by quick to leave directs to his pad for the konk later. I get set up we start the show. the sound is good and I have little trouble w/anything until we play liar's beware. I fuck up the timing between the verse's and chorus' throwing the shit all out of whack. what a bonehead move. I get a look from mike and just shrug my shoulder's in disgust. sometimes the suck just comes out. as we finish I spot the drunk guy w/the painting and sign them along w/tom. after a short time chatting w/the locals I work on getting the gear in the boat. the nice folk working here help out much and I thank 'em for the effort.

   I bust out the directs from don and get mike on the right path. inside don greets us and offers drinks and eats. I chomp a quesadilla and some juice then off to bed. my ears are ringing furiously and getting to sleep takes some time. normally I'll stay up and talk to help the ears to settle, but everyone just crashes quick. I lie in bed waiting for the tiredness to overwhelm the high end whine inside my head. eventually it works and I'm out.



from watt:

   pop and hose off. levi and faith are up early and make me cof. I meet their little boy otis, he's great. levi cooks up little pieces of steak to put on bagels w/eggs and salsa, they're some great chow. faith sits w/otis to watch some tv. this prompts me to talk about some of the tv I remember as a boy. well, first I talk about "the prisoner" which they have no idea about but when I start to describe the show, faith asks how old I was when I watched it. actually I wasn't a "little" boy but just before teen years. I then remember back to what I liked (or what I remember anyway) as truly a little one. I remember "gumby" and some cartoons, "felix the cat," "bugs bunny" and the roadrunner/coyote ones. there was some puppet stuff too, "fireball xl5" from england. I tell her about a blackboard my ma got me when I was little, it helped me learn to express myself cuz I was always writing on it when I learned someting, this one was a big one that stood on wheels. she also got these world book encyclopedias that I went through when I started to read, I went from a to z and it was neat in the way that I learned a lot of infos by tangents from one thing to another. of course, I liked the astronaut and dinosaur stuff the best but tried to make sense and absorb everything that could hold my attention. I guess that's what a 'puter on the web w/search engines is like now days but maybe even better. faith says she's got otis going on a laptop now - levi's a consultant and there must be like four or five 'puters here in the house. they are a nice young family, so generous too w/all the niceness for us. much love to them.

   I'm wearing a red-white-blue flannel mike murphy gave me for xmas a few years ago. I'm gonna make up for last time I was where we're playing. it was the winter olympics back in june and this one gig had us playing some festival type plastic dome thing where there were booths set up along the walls. one booth, facing right at us, was selling purses. they were purses of all sizes made up to look like the u.s. flag. oh man. that's it, just tons of purses looking like that was all they sold there. comical. big saddle bag ones and tiny change purse kinds w/everything in between. no olympic flags anywhere (this booth or otherwise - I guess that logo is licensed and you have to pay to display it) so you could barely tell an olympics was on - you think it was the fourth of july at the wrong time of year. anyway, this was weird in my mind, trying to juggle the two perspectives, a supposed "world" event and "usa usa usa" so I made a comment on the mic. I asked for all the most macho and buffed-out u.s. people we had here to buy the tiniest flag purses and walk around town w/them over their shoulders to show everyone we weren't afraid of anything. boy, did all the sound get sucked out of that dome when I said that. you could hear a tumbleweed roll by - and it was february! so ok, I'll wear flag colors on a flannel to help make ammends. I still think the tiny flag purses slung on hugely strong-looking u.s. men would of been an interesting symbol though.

   it's a hellride to the next gig which is in salt lake city. this is how it is when you're out west cuz the towns are further apart than back east. it's 'pert near five hundred miles we have to cover today. no rain but there's clouds topside - this will help though to cut down the heat. usually, I take us-287 straight to laramie but the cheyenne thing is stuck in my head so I decide to take the interstate there instead. I've never taken this route and I'd like to compare it timewise. even though a road might be less miles, the interstate can beat it cuz of no stops or a higher speed limit. a divided road is definitely not as safe as an interstate either. so it's I-25 north and it turns out to be about a half-hour slower but then the boat can't do the hills as maybe a vehicle w/a newer heart (motor). I'm glad I went anyway cuz I finally got to see that lincoln statue where his head comes out of this wall of rocks that I've always see on post cards. west on I-80. we get gas in laramie and I'm tempted to go to joe carducci's (he lives here) but we roll on. I wanted to foist on him cuz where was he last nigt? I did hear he was at the chicago gig for four songs but then bailed. "why, joe" aaaaarrrrggggghhhhhh. I get a post card in the gas station and make it out quick to my ma cuz I'm thinking of her in her home state. the gas station lady says she'll put it in a mailbox for me, thank you. shit, the way this tour has had me, I've hardly gotten to send any post cards out and this bums me but what can I do? I have only so much time and energy to allocate to things. onward westward. jer chows me w/chips that have the guacamole from lincoln and some "melinda's" chili sauce, they're really good. thanks jer. never over seventy degrees in the boat and the wind not that crazy, we're lucking out. man, can the wind blow in wyoming - especially around rollins. so much openness in this state, except for the mines and mills that occasionally pop up. of course, there's billboards all along the road - lots for this "little america" gas station/restaurant/motel w/these pictures of happy, happy, happy give-me-a-fucking-break faces suffocating you w/fakeness. actually, it's good fodder for every fucking joke you could think of at the moment. man, would the ride be more righteous though w/out all the billboards. shit, the whole country would be this incredible movie playing across your windshield and portholes if these things could be at least limited in their fouling. I know, I know - the battle for your mind and their market share. instead of complaining, maybe I should just join in and do a "pre-tour" and flyer up the entire route I'm to take w/mike watt flyers, "enlightening" folks to my impending engagement and attempted reincarnation of the sacred nurenberg torch rally. maybe this spectacle could be bigger than the actual gig, like a lot of the "bait and switch" embraced by materialism (or this world in general). maybe the point to this life is more about the hankering than the acquiring, huh? the treasure kept sacred being held aloft w/dream, untainted w/the dirty hand. meanwhile, this boat's wheel is much dirtied w/watt's paw. this point of the tour is hard on me. the physical blows are adding up and taking a toll. the hellrides are longer to cuz of the west's nature. I've got to hunker down a little and consolidate what forces in me can hold me together. we're back across the continental divide. for some reason, my gums on the left side are hurting - maybe an extension of the pain from that part of my throat that connects w/a sinus pain. it's weird how these forces of oppression are allying themselves against me. head pain (I don't mean brain pain) is a motherfucker. at wamsutter, I hand the wheel over to tom so he can take us the rest of the way through wyoming. beautiful rock stuff around rock springs and the digicamera is snapping. just inside utah, we're low on gas and we stop to fill up and I'm back on the helm. on through the land parley found (gotta read about this guy sometimes), park city and the winter olympic stuff. so much different than when I was here in february, doing gigs around that event. well, visually cuz of green instead of white but also w/the climate - one of those gigs was downtown in salt lake city w/twentytwo degree weather - aaaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhh, my fingers were like frozen 'gars and would not bend - like working the bass w/seal flippers! this route will always spook me too - though we're going the opposite direction now - this is the road I did a 340 degree spin after snow left black ice all over the road one morning on a fIREHOSE tour. that was more than ten years ago but it shakes me to the bone still. a big reason I hate touring in the winter and avoid it all cost. it was only my love for perk and nels that I did that olympics shit and the other rocky mountains gigs at the beginning of the year w/banyan. in the end though, like most experiences I somehow get through, I'm glad for what I learned from it. it's just the facing up to it while I'm confronted w/it that scares me so and makes me dread. the fretting, the fretting - I am a bundle of anxiety, a fucking knot, a fucking idiot. pain puts memory scars on me, apprehension puts brakes on my forward roll. it's good I have folks to inspire me along - good? it's 'pert near essential. I don't know what I'd do w/out that kind of help. it worries me so I just have to put that out of my mind - not for a moment entertain that kind of world and how it would be. of course, I have to motivate from within and I have enough crazy energy to get that going - a bonfire in the head worth - but reason will get you only so far (reason here meaning just the thought of thinking, not particularly thinking correctly)...

   I wheel us into the lot of liquid joe's, where the gig is tonight, in the sugar house part of s.l.c. booker charlie and boss earl are there to greet me, I'm happy to see them always, even though it's a hellride everytime to get to their town and I might be a little beat. charlie orders some hot wings like he usually does. funny how some cats define "hot" - I guess I just got a high tolerance cuz these babies are pretty tame. thank you still, charlie. I go next door to get some ibuprofen and sage cough drops. I think those orange ones are too acidic and putting pain on the soreness in the back of my throat. aahhh - the ailments! I get some more hydrogen peroxide too to boil the bugs out. it's my favorite fixit potion and is so econo too! healed up my ear, heals up lots w/me. good shit. I come back and do an interview w/brian from slug. he asks me good stuff which is great and keeps spiels from being rubber stamps of each other. then soundcheck w/matt, he's a good cat. I go into the back room to chimp diary - there's great pillows on the couch that say "rockstar" on one side and "rebel" on the other, I guess depending on your whim. luckily, I feel a fart coming on, sit on one and drill it good. can't remember which side but it doesn't matter. dimitri from the brides comes in. whoops, I hand him the pillow w/out thinking (hopefully, w/out stinking) so he can read it's message. sorry, dimitri - awkward moment. the hotwings are here so I tell him to dig in. he tells me about his band getting signed to v2 (richard branson's label) after a little bidding war and how things are intense for him now, all the money getting talked about and all that. I wish him luck and to be careful. already, the former drummer is suing him for big monies. mucha suerte for you, dimitri.

   to the boat now w/watt for needed konk. hellrides wear me out. spiel wears me out. chimping wears me out. watt is worn out. I konk deep. I miss the brides. I would've missed any other bands too but they're the only cats w/us tonight. sorry. jer comes and gets me for gig time. aaaaarrrrgggghhhh - like last night, I forget a pick - I do the first three tunes w/a pick in honor of j getting me to play w/a pick again. so instead, I use a quarter. pop! broken 'e' string in the third song. damn. I change it pretty quick though and we're back on course. we play good together as a band, I'm not so distracted w/the compressor cuz I've got that where it's good. I can focus pretty well though it's a tough go on the worn-out throat. some cat up front really wants "joe mccarthy's ghost" - he's even asking for it during the soft tunes which adds a real sweetener to such senstitive numbers like "walking the cow" and "chinese firedrill" - "asks," damn - he's hollering for it. I know I've hollered stupid shit too or have been so drunk I was spieling loud over the little parts. what can I say except karma wails. no admonishments from watt, I just keep the gig rolling. it's a good one, just wish I was in better shape in the voice, so frustrating. alright, I quit harping on this, I'm sure you get the point. these salt lake folks are quite generous w/the niceness.

   after encores, sling and chat w/the people. one man brings me artwork to sign, it's really good. thank you. I say thank you to tim, who I forgot to write about but earlier, he came by and talked to me about maybe making a piece on the minutemen, some kind of an oral history thing where folks talk about how the minutemen affected them and I could give some history on us. sounds interesting and he's from the skateboard world, which I can really dig. we'll talk more about this in the summer, sounds interesting. I've always wanted some way for people to know about us that weren't there but have been very wary on how it would be framed. this might be happening, we'll see. many kind words from people, one couple just getting married - that's nice, met at one of my gigs.

   my friend don, who lives here but is from pedro, couldn't come to the gig cuz he's w/his daughter but he left directions for us to get to his pad. I thank all the liquid joe folks for all their kindness and then we load the boat up and bail for don's. I feel at least two hundred and fifty years old tonight! when we pull into don's, I quickly lay the sack out in front of the fireplace I always get next to but no fire tonight, things are quite moderate. don offers though - says there's logs left from the february banyan stay. that's cool, bro. I'd be konked before they got lit, the shape I'm in. w/the konk mask on, I hear my guys go through their ritual of after gig chowing and yammering - only part of round one though cuz sueno soon overtakes me.





wednesday, june 5, 2002 - boise, id


from tom:

   I wake early from an abstract dream that started with me getting dressed in a tuxedo and getting ready to go to some kind of function with someone that I didn't recognize. it was a guy that had a suit on but wasn't wearing a jacket and he convinced me to not wear mine, but when we get to the funtion I see that he has another jacket there and I get pissed off at him for telling me not to bring mine. at the party someone shows me photographs of something that really offends me and then I get angry and smash one of my acoustic guitars (which for me to do I would have to be crazy with rage). I have no idea what all this means so if anyone has any opinions please let me know. I do know that I wake with the feeling that I've lost something or that I'd done something wrong, not a good feeling but I did have a deep sleep on that waterbed.

   I go upstairs and see don and meet his daughter madeline and have some coffee and food. we don't have a lot of time to chat though because we have a six and a half hour drive to boise, so we take some photos and say thanks and goodbye till next time and get on the road. I'm still feeling strange from my dream and I climb in the back and doze off again for about half the drive. when we pull off the road to get gas we switch positions and jerry drives and mike gets in back and I do some writing for the next hour or so and then just take in the scenery of southern idaho till we pull onto boise and up to the neurolux where we are playing tonight. this, like a lot of the clubs we are playing is my fourth time with watt and when I go inside I see that they have done some renovating. the stage is pushed back and widened a little and the side has been knocked out to add another room with a pool table and bathrooms. it looks real nice. jerry and I take a walk to the post office and then grad a bite at a little vegi place that I've gone to each time I've been through. as we walk back we go past a street fair where there is a little stage and a jazzy-rock band playing to a yuppie crowd drinking beer and children running through a fountain spouting water in the middle of the square. it's not that interesting but it's cool that they do this sort of thing here. boise is great city and it's really kept up and clean despite the old buildings and probobly some harsh weather. I like the people here too.

   we get back to the neurolux and the brides show up we help them load and then we load and do a soundcheck. our check gets cut short though by a big pvc pipe that falls out of the ceiling while we are playing and bouncing of the floor and hits jerry in side of the head. luckily he's not seriously hurt because if he set up his drums in the standard place where drummers set up (along the back wall) he would have been. we stop and puts some ice on his bruise and we break down. our friend bart who lives here saw the whole thing but couldn't do anything about it in time and explains that it was probobly left up in the ceiling after reconstrution. after that jerry and I get a ride with bart over to his house to relax for a couple hours.

   when we get back to the club the first bandis playing and the guitarist is playing an electric twelve string and it sounds nice, of course it makes me want one. next is the burning brides and they rock out and the people love them and I do too. I talk with a girl named amanda whio is sitting at the same table I'm sitting at and she says she just turned twenty one on monday and the best thing about it is that she can go to shows now. I tell her about what we're about and we have a nice conversation about music and living in idaho. after the brides we go on and we play much tighter tonight. it's a good show and by the time we're done things wind down and then we pack up and go to bart and steph's place along woth the brides for the night. we spend an hour or two trying to find a saturday night live skit that bart says he has on video tape but without luck. it's a good time anyway and soon I have to find my place to sleep. I'm exausted and I'm light a light when my head hits the pillow.



from jer:

   mike wakes me and I can smell the breakfast cooking. I take a shower and shave up first. in the kitchen tom is sitting w/don and daughter maddy for the chow. I join in and have some eggs and waffles. I load up and don w/maddy come to take some snaps posing w/the boat and crew. we soon shove off and make our way northwest towards boise. I can see in the distance the bingham canyon copper pit, also known as the world's largest open pit mine. it's damn big! looks like the whole mountain has been chopped off. I'm guessing maybe it's fifteen miles away and the scale is enormous. this whole area is stricken w/facial scaring of the land. I get a many shots as possible and document the intrusion of our mother earth. soon the land returns to farming spreads and much sugar cane is grown here. you'd think the potatoes would rule the area, but whatever grows rules. this drive is long and I'm finally allowed to take the wheel for a leg. the winds are kicking some and I keep a firm hand on the wheel. a couple hours later were in boise and hunting for the neurolux lounge. I park the boat in front of the pad and crawl inside plopping down on the cushion seating 'round the sides of the club. I come to maybe an hour later and my gear has already been discharged. I stagger to the stage and begin the set up. the guys tune up and we start our check song all sexed up. we get maybe 1 min. into the tune and I suddenly take a blind side shot to the head. I stop and grab my cranium in confusion and pain. the guys don't know why I've stopped and turn to question my actions. tom then notices a large 8 ft. pvc pipe lying on me and lifts it off. local friend bart approaches the stage and says he saw the pipe fall from the ceiling out of a hole. the large flashing crown gracing the rear of the stage lost a lamp in the accident and I luck out that I wasn't set up in a normal drummer position where the pipe would have cracked me right on top of my scull. mike says "I guess the sound check is over." I stumble to the bar and get a bag of ice to take the swelling down. the soundguy apologizes for the obvious. w/that I get a double screwdriver and drink my aches away. bart offers to take us to his pad for some cool down time and tom joins myself for the trek.

   I sit in the living room and get bart to put on the laker's game for a mind numbing session. they play a great game and I forget 'bout the head for a while. we talk some on the saturday night live skit I find to be the funniest thing I've ever seen. it's when christopher walken is a record producer for blue oyster cult and insists on getting more cowbell for don't fear the reaper. "I've got a feverO and the prescription is more cowbell!" w/classic deadpan walken delivery. bart says he's got the video and we franticly search his collection for the snippet. I'd say a good two hours is spent looking through the archives w/zero luck. we switch back and forth to the game and cheer on the lake's for the big win they get. time runs out and we return to the club for the show.

   I kick in the back while the opener jams out. mel from the brides listens to my tail of woe. I tell her that the owner is gonna get an earful when we talk. I motion e.j. the tender and ask who the owner is. after being pointed out I give the man a tongue lashing on the in's and out's of rock & roll safety. he apologizes and offers a drink which I accept. the brides take the stage and I get close to watch. they rock hard as usual, not chinching on any volume, and I dig the assault. it's our turn again and we open the flood gates of love. I concentrate on doing a good show, but in the back of my mind is the thought of more shit falling from the ceiling. the show goes well and the modest crowd fills the room w/exuberation. another gig in the can and I survive the dangerous stage.

   the pack up is fast and we follow bart to his house. the brides also follow and the caravan arrives intact. I claim the same basement futon as before and head upstairs for the continuing saga of the 'where's the snl tape'. we work at it for another two hours and I finally give up. bart will send a copy when he finds it and I'll show it to mike then. I wander back to my nook for a well deserved night's rest.



from watt:

   pop and hose off, I puts lots of the water from the nozzle in my mouth cuz the hurts there are pretty bad - a bit of pain. ouch. hang on, watt. I shave too w/out looking in the mirror - fuck it, that's the mood I'm in. don's up when I'm out and makes me some cof. thanks, bro. he makes me some eggs and waffles and some mate too, an herb tea from south america. he gives me a fresh habanero chili cuz he wants his little girl maddie to see me it raw and so I do that for her. I love them. she just lost a tooth and got some compensation under her pillow. alright. don says the town is getting over its olympic thing and is kind of in a weird state. hype withdraws. says he wants to come out to pedro and pedal, that'd be great - c'mon. I can't wait to get back so I can do that. I mean, I'm dreading getting back to deal w/all the boxes from that last minute move but what a small price to pay for getting to pedal in my town again. I really miss that. missing things is weird, it yanks on you so hard. learning to deal w/loss is hard for me, always has been. I guess missing things that you think you have a pretty good chance of seeing again is different than missing the things you know are gone forever but that yank is still there, the one that pulls memories up from you - first they're the good ones that make you burn yellow inside and then glow orange out and then the bad memories, the shit you wish would've never happened, especially cuz it was probably your fault - you curl up inside w/no color, only hollow and in a perpetual cramped-up twist. horrible. you try to push it all out and get philosophical about why things happen and what's to be learned from it. if you let it stay out there in emotionland, it'll come back on the reason part someway, usually some bitter route that has your mind working pathetic scenarios and unhealthy shit. that's when I breath deep and push those bitter worms out of the holes that get tore in me, in my heart it feels, even. they're blind, burrowing worms and are just full of so much fester - they love feeding on wallow and self-pity. the memory mangles what's missed. after a while, it's hard to know exactly what's missing in a conscious sense - it becomes more of a feeling, a feeling you somehow get used to but never get over. it makes a weird voltage inside, a current that shakes me. so I'm missing my town, even if there's some little nightmares waiting.

   nine bells and we gotta bail, another hellride - this one up to boise. clear skies ahead though. bye don - see you in pedro. west on the I-80 a bit and then it's north on I-15. you can see the strip mining along the way, yech. there's this huge copper mine pit near slc, I forgot to mention seeing that as we pulled out but maybe it was something in my mind trying to get me forget it was there. there's some things you very much want to blot out but maybe it's good folks can see what a mess some stupid behavior can bring. you hear all this talk about the kids but what are we really gonna be leaving them? what will be our legacy, the price of our today in terms of their tomorrow? touring around is a great way to see some righteous nature but also some tragic bumrush on the earth mother. I veer the boat northwest on I-84. up the big grade to snowville and then over the state line to idaho. my pains are getting the best of me and I hand the helm over to jer for the first time on the tour. thanks, jer. this is the state I'm in, kind of hobbled. onto the back bench to chimp diary and try to get my mind off the hurting. can't tell exactly where it's emanating, just somewhere in the head, in the throat-jaw-sinus area. jer works the boat good - we pull into boise, idaho's big town at about three. we get a spot right out front but that means the meter wants a quarter every fifteen minutes. yep, that way out here in boise too. we have to feed it 'til six, damn. beats a fucking ticket though or having to park where it's easy donate. the club tonight is the neurolux, my stop in this town now for the last four or so years, every tour. I dig working for the boss alan here, very low key but always gives much respect. thank you, alan. wow, he's done some changes! he knocked a bulkhead and moved things back, then knocked down a perpendicular one and put the heads where a clothes store used to be, whoa. same big crown sign blinking from the stage though. that thing is like a strobe light that gets really warm. I think it's a trip but jer bums having to play in front of it. this place must hold three times the folks it used to now. I head across the street to get some wor won ton soup at the chinese restaurant there. I get it spicy but have to stop halfway and holler out the door to tom (I think I got everyone chowing here to think I'm a nutcase) cuz he's going to the post office and I gotta put my medical bill thing in the mail - that time of month. too embarrassed now to finish in here, I have the young cat here put it in a to-go thing so I can chow it in the boat. most times I truly do hate sticking out. soundcheck time and we do one w/soundman ian. tom and jer get there individual things checked first while I wait in the boat. I have to admit that the drum check isn't my favorite part of tour - it makes me insane and I have to be away fo it. I see some older cat come out of the club, cursing his head off. what's that about? when a pad has regulars during the day, you can get some bizarre reactions from people who've been sucking it down all day and have no idea what you're trying to do. sorry tom and jer upset you w/their sounds, I dig them. I go into the pad for my turn and then we all three check together. halfway through the first verse of "all sexed up" - no drums. oh no, jer's holding his head. seems a plastic pvc pipe, maybe four inches in diameter, fell from the ceiling and caught him above the right eye on the forehead. I see two bumps come up quick. what was that thing doing up there, dangling like that? didn't even notice it. shit, it could've been another curtis mayfield thing, where he got paralyzed after getting hit w/a light scaffold that blew down in an outdoor gig in new york. he was on a tour, doing all these outdoor city sponsored gigs at the time, I saw the one right before in long beach. that was a real tragedy, he was a very one of a kind guitarist and never could work anything below the neck again. glad jer only got a glancing blow. I feel very bad for him. ian couldn't believe why that thing was there, maybe a hold over from the construction? I'm just happy my drummer and goddaughter's pop ain't more hurt. fuck, does tour bring weird events on you.

   the brides show up. jason comes up to say hi and finds a five dollar bill by me, all folded up. he asks if it's mine, I tell it no and give it back to him. he gives me three ones out of his wallet. that's pretty righteous of him, even gave me the bigger piece of the split. thank you, jason. my boise pal, bart, comes by to say hi and asks if I want to come to his pad before the gig. "no, I'll just konk here in the boat now but thank you," I tell him. he's also invited us to konk w/him and his wife steph after the gig. tom and jer go w/him now and I them I'll hold the fort in the boat. mel gives me some abesol (sp?), a pain reliever liquid for teeth. I don't know really where to put it cuz I still can't pin down where the hurting is exactly. damn. I just put it all over the left upper gum, take some ibuprofen and pray for relief w/some konk. before I enter the sanctum though, I see some songs from the openers, local cats called juan fangio. they're fronted by sam, who used to be in the leaving trains - I love falling james and his cast of characters through the years. one righteous bass player was miss koko but I think she's bailed now. oh well. senor falling will persevere though, he's an inspiration - truly. sam's band is great but konk calls and the mask goes down for watt in the boat quick. sorry, guys.

   a shake from jer lets me know I missed the brides and it's our turn. up to the stage w/watt and his sack. man, is my throat tore up good - aaaarrrrggggghhhhh. the fiftysecond gig in a row. another thing that bothers me is that I can't shake like I want to. I dig making like a dervish but just can't get it going - maybe this tour is a week and a half too long, huh? shit, fIREHOSE did seventyone gigs in seventythree days - fiftysix in a row but that was almost ten years ago. it makes mad I can't go off - you know, go off to get off. I hate just the "stand and deliver" shit - I want to fucking spaz, get into a state. just can't do it. my band plays great, much respect to them. it's the dork w/the big picture in the window that can't get his flail motor on, that's the problem. ian's given me great monitors so that helps some. the cats in the crowd are very supportive, much respect to them. I huff and puff but just can't get this house inside me blown down. aaaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhhhh. hard gig for watt on that level which is important to me. like I said, the crowd is kind though and we get an encore. I break the 'g' string right away but continue on to do "little doll" and "little johnny jewel" w/only three. fuck it, it makes me dig deeper and that's what I need/want. much niceness when we're done and I thank everyone much. I wish I could've given back so much more. I don't want to say this again but I will anyway: aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh...

   of course, alan has to bail early so I settle w/ian - no prob. I thank everyone at the 'lux for all their good nature, lots of folks who are still at their tables too cuz I feel so guilty about such a worn watt. we pack up one of dimitri's amps w/us and they take the ballast - looks pretty much like they can't join us in vancouver tomorrow - wait a minute, DAY AFTER TOMORROW - TOMORROW IS THE ONLY DAY OFF OF THE TOUR! we follow bart and the brides follow us - everyone's at bart and steph's tonight. we roll past the old boneyard w/the tiny grave markers for soldiers, eerie. when we get "home," I sprawl on a love seat and am 'pert near paralyzed. I am so beat and done. I guess bart has a lot of "saturday night live" shows taped and while tom and jer were over earlier, they were looking fo the christopher walken episode w/the "more cowbell" skit to surprise on me. unfortunately, they couldn't it then and can't find it now. they keep searching even after I have to take a powder and make for the cellar space w/"watt konked here" written all over it. not actually written on it but as far as this spent man is concerned, it damn well is. thanks to all my friends here for tolerating such a lifeless lameness. this is not art imitating life. this is age showing it getting a little bit over me. damn, do I want to fight back but for now I must run away to swing at it another day. I can't even spiel. you know watt must be hurting - lo siento. sueno, gracias.





thursday, june 6, 2002 - seattle, wa


from tom:

   in the morning I shower and and get my things together. I hear steph swearing in the kitchen cause she forgot to put the pot back in the coffee maker after starting it and then bart gets up and starts to make some breakfast for eveyone. waffles, bacon and eggs and coffee. the brides rise and we all eat and try to gross each other out with talk of disgusting things. we have a good laugh and then we say goodbye and start out on the 600 mile drive to seattle. soon jerry is asleep on the back bench seat and mike and I observe the beauty of the changing landscape as we cross into the eastern side of oregon. we go over the blue mountains and down into the low lands through pendleton where they make the wool shirts and then hook up and drive along the edge of the columbia river. we take many photos of the sites along the way, some of people parasurfing in the strong wind and others of the trains going in and out of the tunnels on both sides of the mighty river. after a little past halfway I take over at the wheel and drive through troutdale and around portland to connect to the I-5 to go north to seattle.

   as we get close to seattle we plan our over to west seattle where our friend sandy lives. we left a message but it didn't sound like her so when we arrive she's a little bit surprised but hospitalble and happy to see us anyway. I've known sandy since she was thirteen when she used to live in hermosa beach, she's always been involved with the music scene but I only see her when we come though seattle. it's great to sit and talk with her and she gives us a tour of her place and then jerry and sandy and I go out in search of some food. mike stays and writes. we get stopped at a couple restaurants because it's kind of late and finally go to a chinese place called new luck toy that has a kareoke bar attached and we order and drink tea and listen to the sour notes bellowing from next door. the food's okay and the environment is strange enough to be interesting so we have a good time. we get some hot and sour soup for mike and head back. it's beautiful outside and seattle's lights from the city across the bay shine in the clear night.

   when we get back mike's asleep and jerry makes a call to kelly and sandy and I talk for a bit and then I put my bag on the floor and say goodnight to sandy's dog dozer and sleep.



from jer:

   the first day off of the tour and I wake to bart making breakfast. I kick on the deck in back and chow while mike tells all of the wen. a fatty, oily deposit on top of the scalp that older folk commonly get. my appetite is ruined. he doesn't let up for the entire meal. I get packed and we head out for our 11 hour ride to seattle and a night off. I take the bench for the first leg and sleep another 6 hours. when I arise were next to the columbia river heading west on I 84 towards portland, oregon. I enjoy the view and switch seats w/mike to take snaps while he rests. tom drives the remainder to seattle and straight on to sandy's house. I hoped to be able to have dinner w/matt chamberlain's girl dan'e, but the ride was a bit longer than anticipated and we have to try for tomorrow. sandy takes myself and tom for a bite nearby at a chinese pad. I eat 'til satisfied and return to her house where I knok for another 9 hours.



from watt:

   pop at the crack of dawn and head up the stairs. the puppies are on their sides, konked on the deck. go and hose off. a search of the kitchen returns no sight of cof procucing machinery but I remember steph and jer walking to some place last night for their beer so I figure there might be cof in a hoofable distance. I sally forth, great sky full of sun to greet me. maybe spring is here, even w/just a couple weeks 'til summer. turns out there is a pad and I cof up there. a return finds bart and steph up, bart's getting chow readied - he's making up waffles, eggs and bacon. there's a little table in the backyard and I sit out to get some sun soak. the brides wake and join me at this table. I find it a great time to enlighten them to way of the wen. my sister melinda cuts hair for a living and she does a lot of older blue hair beehive cut ladies. they can have these things called wens on their scalp. what brought up her mentioning this to me was another discussion we were having regarding what is the worst smell ever that's had the chance to assault you. you'll see why. the american heritage dictionary definition for a wen is a cyst, especially on the scalp, containing the fatty secretion of a sebaceous gland. think of an apple turnover or dumpling stuck to your scalp w/glands in there working overtime, oozing oil and grease for years. add to this some ingrown hairs growing in there also, coiling themselves around into bunches within the sludge (or pudding). this can be going on for years, even decades - w/all this organic material also rotting and becoming putrid, fetid and just generally decomposing, you have a potent custard/stew. I guess guys are prone to this too but maybe the years of hairspray give the women an edge (or greener thumb). back to my sister's tender relationship w/them: let's say you're working in a salon and combing the hair of some lady who has one of these happily maturing under the hairdo and a bristle of your comb accidentally catches and hooks onto it's crust, tearing it open. my sister said you'd see that salon clear out faster than you can make your mouth into the shape to say the word "wen" - the stench is indescribe, unimaginable - any attempt at description would very much fall short. powerful enough to make very geriatric old ones knock over the walkers as they bolt for the hatch. ok, we're very much ready for chow now. bart brings it on and everyone, fired-up w/my inspirational talk, shovels fanatically.

   I check my email cuz I have the chance. wow, here's a piece from my belgrade radio dj friend, slobodan vujanovic (http://www.b92.net) that seems somehow pertinent:

the people-houses and the people-supermarkets.

people-houses are the ones that welcome you, offer you what they have, and you can even stay over night.

people-supermarkets are the ones that work 24-7, have everything you need, you're not able to spend the night there, and you have to pay at the end.

the real problems start when you mix what you entered.

or what you are of the above.

next chapter in 'meeting humans is the last fun on the earth':
people-terminators

memorial haiku for dee dee ramone

what did he give us?
rock boiled down to a burnt pot!
and that ain't nothing.

dee dee dreams about
the beach boys with marshall stacks,
makes it happen now!

one bad thing about
living on a chinese rock:
crushed by avalanche

fifty-third and third:
doug takes it, then gives it back,
proves he's no sissy

did he say "I don't
wanna walk around with you"
when death came over?

carbona not glue!
now I wanna sniff some glue!
make up your mind, pud.

now we'll never know
what that strange "something" smelled like
down in the basement.