Dumb Nostalgia: May 8, 2006

High Five

So the other day my old pal Dave, who tours like a mad man as well, wrote some nice things about me on his blog. We have been on several tours together and he's one of the few people who really seems to have it down. He could tell you the locations of four Cinnabons in the Kansas City metropolitan area, or how to repair a flat tire with butter. These things may not be true, but I'm pretty sure that he can make stained glass and boats. Pretty sweet. He also put a link to my webpage from his blog, which is the interweb equivalent of a high-five. So there. You can read it here.

I found this picture the other day as well. These are David's massive legs that are too big to fit on the couch that he's sitting on. Notice how they naturally fold in on themselves. Necessity is the mother of invention.

Mayonnaise Cone

Amsterdam is sweet in the summer.

I got this giant mayonnaise cone with a few chips stuck in it. I ate the whole damn thing and then felt a little sick, but it was all worth it.

The Giant tells me that during World War II the Germans appropriated all of the bikes from the Dutch which were then melted down to make bayonets or other things to poke people with, I imagine. Bunch of bike stealing bastards. Can't even enjoy a good live show either (see Ludwigvanbeethovenshiffen).

When I ventured out late in the day (I had a lot of work to do) I ran into this little situation. I noticed a large group of people gathered around a tram, and was convinced that someone had been run over. It's a goddman miracle that more people aren't maimed by either trams or bikes in this city. The ruthless nature with which people commute, coupled with substance abuse and squared by a system of canals, bridges, gangways and moats makes it nearly possible to walk to a Febo without taking your life into your own hands. Anyway, as it turns out, no one was run over, but 2 trams had collided (albeit very slowly) and were stuck together in the middle of the street. The police were very upset that I was taking a picture, actually maybe embarrassed is the word. The Dutch are a proud people when it comes to those stupid tram things.

Off to Brussels tomorrow on my culinary tour of Western Europe. I'll be having one of those waffle jobs, thanks.

Hell in a Handbag

I shaved...

I had a pretty good scruff going on for a bit, but I tried to trim it and cropped one side shorter than the other, so I trimmed a bit off the other side, and so on. It grows back. I spent the first of many days in Germany on this tour wandering around town. Let me preface this with a picture of the German flag in the gutter.

That's nice.
So we lamped out of Paris the other night and woke up in Ludwigvonbeethovenschtien. I may have spelled that wrong, but it's in Germany, so that should do. It's a small town that seems to be kept afloat solely by the BASF corporation. They owned several of the tallest buildings in town, the venue and a few parks. The venue was a new, corporate-looking theatre, and the band was relegated to playing on the raised orchestra pit. No one was really pleased to have two dozen or so dirty, sickly touring types running amok in their new banquet hall, stealing ice creams from the freezer and such.

BASF even own the blankets in the hotel...

The show went well, I suppose. The crowd was so quiet it was unsettling. I kept trying to take pictures of the people around me, gaping mouth, little slits for eyes. I wasn't sure if they were being polite, being German, or being tired on a Sunday night. Maybe all three. While Belle and Sebastian don't necessarily put on a rip roaring rock show they, like any band, do well with a bit of support from the audience.

Gully?

There were some really neat little German looking side streets that were, no doubt created to mask the factory lurking beneath.

The whole joint had an air of Willy Wonka-ish darkness. Whatever, I'm in Amsterdam right now, so anywhere in Germany, in retrospect, seems a bit bleak.