2-24 / 2-25
/ 2-26 / 2-27 / 2-28
/ 3-1 / 3-2 / 3-3 / 3-4 / 3-5 / 3-6 / 3-7 / 3-8 / 3-9 / 3-10 / 3-11 / 3-13
/ 3-14 / 3-15 / 3-16
/ 3-17 / 3-18 / 3-20
/ 3-21 / 3-22 / 3-23
/ 3-24 / 3-25 / 3-26
/ 3-27 / 3-28 / 3-30
/ 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-3 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6
2-24-01.
1227 hrs. Oh the wind and the rain. There goes Magic Mountain. Here we are we are three so far, in an Econoline indistinguishable from the last Econoline except in that we haven't fucked it up yet. The U-Haul is smaller however less head room. There is Kirk driving. There is Kevin in the Kevin seat. Speaking of Albany. Of Johnny and his Distractions. Back on the road people. Soon we will be arguing about where to eat and who has to room with whom. On our way from L.A. to Frisco to pick up CVS you may know him as Chris. Oh my ears are popoping. Oh look I wrote popoping. This is the famous Grapevine. The world famous. Nothing is happening. |
1313 hrs. First use of the word "penis" on this tour. |
1358 hrs. First rude gesture. |
1821 hrs. Headlights coming on and the freeway winds toward St. Francisco. A day without event. In this on-touring life you are always sitting and always moving. |
1824 hrs. "Nice!" says Kirk. (Someone has done something bad in traffic.) This is something Kirk says. Something Kevin says is "Please everyone: stand back." But he isn't saying it now. Catch phrases are an important part of fun on tour, except if someone is saying, "Remember there's a trailer attached," which is just annoying. I propose "Let's get frisky!" as a new catch phrase for this new tour but the truth is that they come of their own accord. |
1832 hrs. San Francisco looms foggily across the Bay and here comes the toll as the Talking Heads are on the classic rock radio singing of what you may find yourself doing and what you may ask yourself. And now here we are on the majestic Bay Bridge and I am going to put on my glasses to be helpful in getting to Chris. There is water and cranes I didn't like the movie Traffic but other people do. |
2-25-01 0104 hrs. A Best Western in Redding. First motel of tour or pre-tour as case may be. On hold with the Earthlink people. They are playing classical music all agents are assisting other customers please hold for the next available agent. Outside it's raining and I need a haircut everybody else is next door including CVS who has been got he has speakers and coffee. I could get tired of this waiting. No I am tired of this. Waiting. |
1154 hrs. Snow is pretty and there it is. Snow is white and trees are green in elementary school I made a ceramic christmas tree like that, we all did. Portland is 362 miles away and we're going to Seattle. A big mountain goes into the clouds and it's nice to be somewhere else. Free hotel food is not so good but it's free. Trucks come in bright colors, yellow and blue and red. The rain and rain clouds have gone away maybe we're above them now which is good because the wipers are bad here approaching South Weed. Central Weed is coming up soon. Now here is North Weed. Weeds all gone now. Mount Shasta is mostly clouds today, the last time we were here a couple few months ago it was all Shasta. |
2-26-01. 2333 hrs. We are all together now well not now and not here. We are all in Seattle even Mark Stevens who is on his way from the airport now. We have had our first day of music making in a rehearsal studio in Ballard where all the rooms are named for constellations which is funny there was nothing astronomical about it at all. Mark Stevens is here now with his groovy new titanium laptop he just walked in hello Mark. Now we are all together except Wes is at home and Kirk and Kevin are next door. We created some fine new old music today in preparation for first rock show tomorrow see below. Some surprises dare I say the fans I believe will be pleased. Dinner at Hattie's Hat. Last night 4 of us dined in Portland in the hotel where we stayed last fall the famous Thai restaurant Typhoon. Later last night here in Seattle I was in a bar with Chris, well a restaurant with a bar, or a bar with a restaurant. City mostly shut up and a lot of walking to find this place it was a nice place the perfect place to be. Night was cold crisp icy, Space Needle aglow, lights on the Sound. Now Kevin and Kirk are here and we are all going downstairs to wear a nightcap. |
2-27-01. 1651 hrs. Brief afternoon hotel time between rehearsal and soundcheck (when we check the sound). Big first rock show tonight. Sixth-floor corner room with two walls of window, Seattle construction crane activity visible but also trees with tentative greenery and seagulls on their way to/from the water. A springlike day. CV at the writing desk, sounds of soul, a civilized moment in a chaotic crazy crazy world. |
2-28-01. 0038 hrs. We have rocked Seattle to its underground foundations. Auspicious beginnings begun. A lot of love in the room. New old song for you: "Kill the Messenger" in its original four on the floor form. Flair aplenty. Kirk puts wrong strings on guitar, twists ankle in load out. Two incidents unrelated. Or are they? Accordion (mine) falling apart, surgery (more than cosmetic, less than mechanical) required. Mark Stevens indisposed. |
1239 hrs. Portland day room, picture window hillside view and if I moved about 3 feet to the right to where CVS is getting funky I could see Mt. Hood. KS on ice. Beer too on ice. We rocked Seattle then Seattle rocked itself: big earthquake this a.m. but we were gone gone. Alan Touissant music here. Young gentlemen in a state of mild sleepy shoeless apathy. That kind of carpet that you can spill or puke anything on and it looks just the same. I am leaving now. |
1556 hrs. Back. You can't beat this weather. Chris off purchasing flair. Kirk in ankle-swelled attendance upon him. New sunglasses for some. How is Mark Stevens today? Wes undoubtedly buying books somewhere. Good eats in the afternoon, then Italian coffee in Italian cups. Kevin knows his way around he's from here more or less. More than less. You just ask the man on the street about Johnny and the Distractions. Portland it's a city on the move no that was Seattle ha ha. Ha. Afternoon interregnum if that's the word I want. Is Kevin asleep? Am I the only one awake here? |
1619 hrs. Entry dates corrected to 2001. Thanks to Linda for the heads up. |
1758 hrs. Backstage. Old old Crystal Ballroom. Wes crouching nearby over laptop. Now displaying Progressive Music book a score from Powell's. Soundcheck imminent. Chips n crackers n water n things. Smell of salt. Sound of crunch. Enter Greg of Blue Rodeo fame. How do you get a drummer off your front doorstep asks Wes. Pay him for the pizza. What does that mean? |
2338 hrs. Driving out of Portland, Graham Parker singing about the white honey he gets from the candy man. Burning some miles post-show because it's San Francisco tomorrow night. The Portland people had their minds bodaciously blown. Dwarfed though they were by the Crystal Ballroom they made their presence known. The ancient floor upon which they stood was a special floor, the boards laid across ball bearings that make it bouncy. Bouncy for the people. More new old songs I won't say which come on down if you want to know. Mark Stevens now disposed. We are all here now with six you get eggroll and three hotel rooms. We are irrevocably on the road now until March goes out like a lamb. |
3-1-01. 0958 hrs. A little bit of rain in the wild Oregon mts. heading back the way we recently came. Never got to Powell's. First McDonald's of tour, Eggamuffins hash browns some of that million-dollar coffee. You could be a winner. Necessity is the mother of eating at McDonald's. Last night late we stopped somewhere. Somewhere cold. Making little clouds of steam breath in the dark. Slept and got up. Kevin doing his best to get "Let's get frisky" into the tour lexicon which I read as a favor to me. First authentic catch phrase of tour: "That ain't gonna happen." (Initially my response to proposed 10:30 leave time from Kirk's on day one.) "Chop chop" also making a strong showing but makes me want to hit whoever's saying it. Morning maniac music: Bowie at the Beeb the extra disc. Oh look the police. Sitting pretty by the side of the road. Popping of the ears. |
1056 hrs. Smells like syrup. |
1738 hrs. On the Bay Bridge, approaching Treasure Island at a speed slow enough to appreciate its charms. Kevin lived here for a year. Oh now we're stopped entirely. Now come the tall buildings and oh look Alcatraz Coit Tower the Golden Gate. Tourists come thousands of miles to see this we've come from Portland. We're getting over one, look out. This was a long day. Filled the trailer tire again. Kirk has new flair shades. At twilight. Kevin has a friend who pretends to puke in elevators. Now here we are in the city of Frisco. |
3-2-01. 1600 hrs. Los Angeles California. Home of me. Backstage Knitting Factory. Tammie is here saying oh my god. Kirk is saying that ain't gonna happen, now apparently the official motto of Westour 2001. E bow talk. The backstage bathroom is bigger than the room in which people not going to the bathroom sit. Tammie is wearing a nice jacket. She goes with Kirk like a knife goes with a fork. I just met Tony. He's drinking a diet Coke. Everyone else where did they go. Also what about our dinner? There's a refrigerator here with the door facing the wall how absolutely useless. Today was a drive from Frisco the valley was green and there were sheep and cows and horses. Jim Healey in the van telling tales of chateau madness. Now Kyung is here she goes with Kevin like a fork goes with a knife. San Francisco was a city where we made many musical mistakes and yet the sum was greater than its faulty parts. CVS brilliantly opened S.F. show w/ Koi accompanying. His teenage girl songs. Now here is Billy. Now I am waving to Kyung. |
3-3-01. 1332 hrs. A night in my own bed a Saturday at home. Last night big rock show tonight another big rock show possibly a bigger rock show in the same place. Nearest/dearest in attendance. A surgeon I know came on his way to transplanting a kidney. It's just a skill he said like you have skills. Yes I said but when I play a wrong note people don't die, imagine the carnage if they did. |
3-4-01 1310 hrs. Heading east on 10 until Phoenix, turn left to Flagstaff, right to Albuquerque, left to Santa Fe. But we are in California still. But not for long. Paolo Conte plays soundtrack to flat dirt scrub, jumble-blanket mountainettes to the right to the left. Road ahead an illustration in one point perspective. Late night and early morning doing the big rock thing in the big rock club, chockablock with attractive friends and exquisite significant others. Seven miles to Blythe. Traffic school discussion. Blythe has it all depending on what you mean by all. The mountains ahead are Arizona exit 1 there goes the Colorado River what's left of it and we are in Arizona and here comes lunch at Wendy's. |
139 hrs. (Mountain Time). Dark out, pockets of light within the van. 300 miles to Albuquerque having just left Black Bart's Steak House having followed the signs there. Hidden deep within an RV park where 17 meets 40. Singing waitresses/waiter from some nearby university sort of doughy and unformed though not uniformly your favorite show tunes with and without choreography, then coming over to take your order. Drank a South of the Border. |
2245 hrs. Talking about grandparents with Kevin who drives. 4th bench put back in van in Los Angeles, Wes, Kirk, CV reclining against driver side van wall reading writing. (No rithmetic.) One after the other bench bench bench. Bench four is Mark who is invisible. I am in the seat they call shotgun. The world outside the window is white lines, tail lights, head lights, and the penumbra that accompanies us illuminating bits of roadside scrub. Farther off could be mountains, could be desert, could be lakes and rivers I don't know I can't tell. Not so much sleep last night or anytime since 2-23 and I am tired my eyes hurt and the space between them hurts. Today we came a long way from Los Angeles and I don't know where we are right now but we're not where we're going. We are at mile 309 on Route 40 heading east through Arizona unless we're in New Mexico already if that helps you. I still don't know where that is really. Me Robert I drove from the California border to Black Bart's Steak House, shadow of van at Arizona sundown running ahead of van, following light reflected upon the highway by the big what do they call them fuel truck tanker truck ahead of us. Desert rat guy the hat the beard the whole kit the caboodle in line for service station bathroom outside Phoenix said that if you find an old possibly antique gun you don't want to clean it it won't be worth as much if you do. Also he had an old trumpet he thought might be full of Civil War spit. Route 17 heading north out of Phoenix was very pretty especially with my new correct prescription eyeglasses. Furzy rolling hills sky full of cloud muscle bursts of yellow and purple plant life along the roadside. Then mountains with big pine tress the Motel in the Pines Pinewood Road and snow on the ground but not much. Signs saying watch for elk but did not see any elk even though I watched. |
2310 hrs. Driving down dark road to nowhere looking for gas station okay guys lets make this quick bell gas closed nothing there CVS singing Mott the Hoople's golden age of rock and roll from the back I lent him Ian Hunter's tour diary the mother of all tour diaries now we're at another gas station where the lights are on but no one's home either Kevin switches on the defroster Kirk wants a word for his crossword “fearless leader's leader” is the clue, m blank b blank blank “mr. big” I got it. This is rock and roll. We are back on the freeway looking for something open. Kirk says Tammie says that this is the only place in the country where the weather isn't fucked up. Wes is reading aloud from his latest tour diary entry it's about tour buses it's getting hot in here. Don't get off unless you see a gas station says Mark. |
2325 hrs. Dead end. St. Anselm Rd. Albuquerque this way. Got off again but denied an open station, there's the closed one closed probably for years for decades for centuries. The pitch darkness of the dark doesn't help at all doesn't make the world seem the friendly place we want it to be. World be friendly to us world. Be friendly. Black Bart's Steak House was a friendly place it even had a fireplace but we are not there, we are here, wherever here is. |
2325 hrs. Dead end. St. Anselm Rd. Albuquerque this way. Got off again but denied an open station, there's the closed one closed probably for years for decades for centuries. The pitch darkness of the dark doesn't help at all doesn't make the world seem the friendly place we want it to be. World be friendly to us world. Be friendly. Black Bart's Steak House was a friendly place it even had a fireplace but we are not there, we are here, wherever here is. |
2329 hrs. I didn't mention that we worked out that this van is in fact our last van we know this by the wonky vent and the ice cream splooj on the dashboard, though the odometer does seem all wrong. We have our theories about this. But the u-haul trailer is not the same u-haul trailer at all. It isn't even a u-haul. Here's a sign Albuquerque 164. Here's another Caution icy bridges. Still driving still looking still in the dark in the dark. |
3-5-01. 2354 hrs. Santa Fe NM where adobe is king. We played a place the Paramount it was a nice place a well designed magazine spread sort of place with wood and stone and an antler chandelier of which I'm not sure I approve but which was attractive and interesting nevertheless. Spent morning on phone interviewing David Chase for other job other life. Then into town with time to kill. Walking around with CV checking out the adobe and the windows full of silver turquoise jewelry and bad art and groovy western gear and the disaffected loitering local youth and looking for a bank open after 3, which they don't hardly have around these here parts. Yup. I mean nope. Excellent spinach quiche from a french bakery run by real francaises who call you monsieur and say merci and de rien. Show full of gremlins not only for me and equipment trouble aplenty but the people man the people dug it and it's all about and only about the people. It's about the brothers and sisters in the front row. And everybody else. Then a little bon vivant for four out of six at the Coyote Cafe, wrangled there by Kevin bless him, he has their cookbook, and for me it was corncakes with shrimp, poussin with fig mole and green chili corn bread and the creme brulee quartet. Relaxed and happy to be there, loving life and present company. Tour is good for appreciation. Walking back to club crossing trickly little river moon straight overhead encircled by big big old moon ring I don't think I'd ever seen that. |
3-6-01 1532 hrs (Central Time). The absolute flatness of northwest Texas having passed Amarillo and heading now for Oklahoma City. Wes on cell phone talking to Pittsburgh journalist. Mark likes single piece tape dispenser. I am guessing. The supposedly biggest cross in the Western Hemisphere has come and gone that is a statistic I would not care to dispute. Cylinders of hay. A near absence of topographical features though to the trained eye etc. etc. A cow here a cow there. A big old sprinkler stretching across a field but nothing I can see growing there. Terrible terrible terrible bumpy road. Keren Ann her dulcet incongruous francophonic vocal stylings transmitting from the hard drive of this here laptop through earphones into ears I want new earphones the kind that sit on your ears not the kind that you have to shove into them though there's no arguing the convenience. I am undoubtedly tired. The land is rolling a little now there is food at exit 141 in McLean and I am about 97 percent certain we will stop there. |
1553 hrs. But I was wrong. |
1719 hrs. 120something miles from Oklahoma City. McDonald’s back down the road in town called Shamrock had a Texas shaped sink. Sun on the way down, that certain sudden way things get dark on the plains. Though it is light of yet I am just anticipating. Cows. Sheeps. National Route 66 museum next left. More cows near and far. Black cows baby cows. Lethargy is a word I was trying to think of before. Green grass and red earth looks like Christmas. I can see how you might love this landscape if you were from around here love the little ditches and undulating hills and surprising streams and stands of trees leafless for now but I'm not from here. Sister Sledge in my earphones are family, but on the other side of the cans it's Dionne Warwick who fills the van. |
1748 hrs. Two police cars stopped by roadside with police lights flashing by brown cow – how now – on wrong side of cow fence. |
3-7-01 1135 hrs. Louisiana bayou. Water to the left water to the right. Drowned branchy trees reflecting. Yesterday morning woke up in Santa Fe, NM, another world a world away. Last night drove personally that is from Oklahoma City to Shreveport by way of TX. Moonlight lit, all horizons visible. Unidentified burning thing by side of road. Unfinished freeway interchange a welter a pretzel of unconnected overpasseses looming against the brighter night sky. The smell of burning hickory and tomorrow's barbecue sauce. Midnight truck stop stops, coffee and Milk Duds. Piling in piling out. Is that how you spell piling? It looks funny. Mark driving and talking on phone and listening to Tool he's a young person with young person taste. Flat trailer tire filled up with flat tire fixer lets hope that works. Driving south where the weather is good. Clouds are there none. PJ Harvey wants a pistol in her hand. |
1339 hrs. Route 190 west to Baton Rouge older highway occasional stoplights smell of Powerade from within not without the van. Pickup truck pulling crazily in front of van fat fat man filling every inch of cab space. Down here trees have leaves or beginnings of leaves, spring is sprung, windshield is final resting place of many bugs. David Chase interview nearly edited but there's still an introduction to write. New Orleans of course all hope of work will be abandoned there. Old friends are expected. I will go to Cafe du Monde because I always do. Mark is a man of many plans. Wes is hurting his head eating Saltines with earplugs in. Saltine is a nice word. |
1435 hrs. Leaving the Cajun Circus. Not actually a circus. Funny how boys always go to the bathroom together. Po Folks Fruit & Vegetables. The Baton Rouge skyline between here and there is the yet invisible Mississippi River. Even greener here than 30 minutes ago. Here's the river, we go up we go over. Always an event the Mississippi. The Mississippi River. The Mighty Mississip. Which is headed for New Orleans just like us. |
1534 hrs. New Orleans visible in distance as Lake Ponchartrain opens up along left (north) side of highway. Woods n water. Spanish moss hanging. Three out of 6 asleep. Now view gives way to motel alley. I have been and stayed here before in Jefferson Parish. Roller coaster dip. |
1550 hrs. Dead people of New Orleans. First fuckin bead that I see in a gutter I'm gonna vomit says Wes. |
3-8-01 1240 or 1340 hrs depending on whether we've passed into Eastern Time. I don't know where that's supposed to happen but it'll happen before we get to Atlanta where we're going. This could be Alabama I haven't been paying attention. Flat bottomed groves of tall trees, scrubby farms, horses. Saw baby horses yesterday they were cute. I don't know why I love seeing horses so much but I do. New Orleans been and done and gone. Not the biggest or best audience for our little thang and some wrong notes that have just been discussed here in our Kirk Swan driven van and I shifted to CVS stageside on account of a tight stage but respectable certainly. A speaker fell on a Blue Rodeo guitar and broked it. With attendance of Bob Snake Bubbles Mache and Mark Spanky Tex Badwill Walton the entire JWH 1991 touring band was present, accounted for. (No jammage however.) Not to say 4/5 of Steve Wynn Quintet 1990, 3/5 of SWQ 92. All named (plus Candace that's Mrs. Bob M.) thence to the Circle Bar where last year around this time Sarah and I saw Vicki and Susan and where Peter now lives upstairs with Powerpuff pix for Miranda. White Russian my fallback drink. Think, I said, of all the places we've been we've seen together meaning Kev Bob Mark me: the Brandenburg Gate, the Arctic Circle, the city of Pompeii. And so much more. Mark gave me new Continental Drifters that's the band they're in CD which is good. With Kevin to Cafe du Monde for sake of tourism beignets and decaf nearly empty for a change. Bourbon Street relatively quiet shirtless drummer glimpsed through window that isn't right at all said Kevin. Garbage stale smell of spilled beer. Cab ride to hotel from "Big Ray" Jones (www.sstar.com/ray-jone/nola.htm) taxi driver and author of The Complete Idiot's Travel Guide to New Orleans for sale on the dashboard along with Mrs. Big Ray's Murder at the Audobon Zoo. He gave me his card. |
1830 hrs. (Eastern time for sure). Atlanta imminent. Mark Stevens to front of van with directions. Airplane going up. Wes expresses amazement on cell phone. Clouds. Yellow plants. |
1838 hrs. The big buildings of town loom dead ahead. Big old premature moon preternaturally bright. Cute little carnival to the left all flashing light bulbs. The moon rises over a funky city somewhere in the south says Chris. Driving into the cold heart of skyscrapery downtown. Oh honey what's up says Kevin to woman crossing against light. Udweiser sign. Unreportable dialogue. Three blocks from club and time to stop. |
3-9-01 0057 hrs. Kevin opens a banana in a special way. Backstage at the Cotton Club, done, Blue Rodeo rodeoing on, pounding through the walls. We don't get Dave Matthews excuse me Mathews. There's an ankh painted on the wall. We have done rocked. Kevin needs to get going he's going to fall asleep he's dying he's totally dying. But we have to wait for the Rodeo to be over to get our shit out of here. It's all dudes out there. The Olympic Park that got blowed up is across the street it has pretty lights. Indian dinner with Kev and Wes and Cathy the managrix. Then espresso search with KJ but downtown was dead. Went into the big CNN center it was a message from the future. I broke a nail. |
1350 hrs. Passing fat naked truck driver en route Atlanta to Nashville that'd be via Chattanooga where I once spent three days at the Shamrock Motel broken down with college chums Bob and Dean and possibly Ed but I can't remember him being there the doors all crooked and a piece of carpeting covering a hole in the wall. Pictures of ballerinas. Lost dog lock nonsense this morning. Dog lock a last-tour neologism referring to the barking remote control van key. Spawning: To dog (v.): To lock the car by means of the dog. Did you dog the van? Dogged (adj.): The van when dog-locked. Is the van dogged? If dogged the van is undrivable by means of any key but the dog. |
1528 or 1428 hrs. if we've crossed out of Eastern into Central time. Tennessee hills or mountains I guess Dolly Parton would say. Nashville is 103 miles ahead and Chattanooga not so far behind. I have an hour or so to finish the intro to the Chase piece. Why I am writing this I should be writing that. Do you know all these songs CV says Kirk. Sure says CV. Big Star is the group at issue and on the van hifi. Fireworks available here. Going up and up and up and up. Sky of blue grass of green. When my head is down writing I miss dark striated cliffsides, tall bare trees. There's a smell I don't know what. Man the Starbucks we were in this morning on the way to the guitar store the drains were backed up it was hard not to hurl, but we need our coffee. Guitar Center fun in Marietta not so much shredding as in say Hollywood and friendly unstuckup help. A new sustain pedal for the electrical piano, picks, strings. Here we are at a summit. Except Wes who is with Cathy in a car somewhere. There's a Herman Miller truck it's red. |
1526 hrs. Central Time. We've gone back in time. The trip from Atlanta to Nashville is three hours and the trip from Nashville to Atlanta is five hours. Though in either case one spends four hours in the van. Explain. That's a bad smell. Oh I feel like I'm back at Starbucks says Kevin who's driving now Isn't that nasty? Murfreesboro says Mark is fun to say. Did you look at this D1600 in here Kirk asks. It's nice says Kevin then something about removable drives. Machines are scary and mysterious. Nashville is anywhere near here. Chase is done and tonite we party. Franklin is where the country stars live I was there once at Pat McLaughlin's with Mark Spanky Walton and Carlo Nuccio we sat on the screened in back porch and watched fireflies and played acoustic and drank beers that was on the Carlene tour long ago. This thing has four XLR ins says Kirk did you see that? I saw that says Kevin. |
3-15-01. 0028 hrs. The ides of March. Also Sheila's birthday. Maryland is dark except for where the lights are. I drove from MA to DE now Kevin is driving. Feeling detached though not in a bad way. Fuzzy hat on dashboard fake reggae on hifi. Big Gunpowder Falls. Baltimore will be arriving shortly with its tunnel and toll. No hazmats we wondered about that for awhile the first time we were through here this is familiar territory now. Keep the Free State Litter Free. We keep the funk alive with idiom. Moon now almost half eaten Baltimore itself off to the right. Tunnel light tunnel brick tunnel smell. Baltimore more visible. Is there an Irving Berlin song What'll I Do asks Kirk. Oh super clue says Wes. Open Joints on Bridge (is not a clue is a sign). We had a day off not counting the 7 hour drive. Life is intersection. |
0322 hrs. The hotel we were supposed to have isn't the hotel we have. We are farther away now in Falls Church not Arlington though perhaps not badly situated certainly not if we wanted to buy a Toyota tomorrow. Dragging luggage around looking for rooms which turn out to be above restaurant it was cold and vaguely annoying but somehow fun somehow that felt like being in a band. Room is huge. Huge! Full of empty space. CVS has got the speakers out: Moody Blues Tuesday Afternoon and I'm 12 again in Robert Scott's room I don't know why. I don't know most of this record only the hits it's the middle of the night. My David Chase interview is out this week in print in L.A. and online everywhere the lines go. |
1433 hrs. About to get down to other work. Wes I can hear from the next room rehearsing new songs for Austin. Most everyone else off doing laundry and I suspect going to Guitar Center of which activities I am sorry to miss the first not sorry to miss the second. Kirk now has link to my tour diary on his tour diary Well done Kirk. Outside the streets are wet the sky is gray I will play one of my new french CDs on the CVS stereo while I write about television shows and I will do that now. |
February 27: Seattle WA, The Showbox |
February 28: Portland OR, Crystal Ballroom |
March 1: San Francisco, CA, Great American Music Hall |
March 2-3: Los Angeles, CA, The Knitting Factory |
March 5: Santa Fe, NM, The Paramount |
March 7: New Orleans, LA, The Parish Room (upstairs at the House of Blues) |
March 8: Atlanta, GA, The Cotton Club |
March 9: Nashville, TN, 328 Performance Hall |
March 11: Hoboken, NJ, Maxwell's |
March 12: Northampton, MA, The Iron Horse |
March 13: Cambridge, MA, TT the Bear's |
March 15: Arlington, VA, The Iota |
March 20: Pittsburgh, PA, Rosebud |
March 21: New York, NY, Bowery Ballroom |
March 22: Philadelphia, PA, North Star Bar |
March 23: Cleveland, OH, The Odeon |
March 24: Buffalo, NY, The Tralf |
March 25: Albany, NY, Valentine's |
March 27: DeKalb, IL, Otto's |
March 29: Detroit, MI, St. Andrew's Hall |
March 30: Chicago, IL, Metro |
March 31: Minneapolis, MN, First Avenue |
April 1: Omaha, NE, Homer's (afternoon in-store) |
April 3: Bozeman, MT, Cat's Paw |
April 5: Seattle, WA, The Tractor |
April 18: London, England, The Borderline |
April 20: London, England, Border's (Oxford Street) |
April 22: Hastings, England, The First In Last Out (a.k.a. The Filo) |