lunch is the new amelia earhart
I'm napping the day away at an embassy suites in covington, kentucky today. There is a parrot in the lobby. It's like Jimmy Buffet's garage in here. It's roasting hot. That is all. A few days back we were in Milwaukee (I wasn't killed and eaten after all) at The Rave.
Maybe people would stop making the Dahmer associations if they took out the blood-red lightbulbs and put a few potted plants around the joint. Just a thought.
They were pretty heavy on the rules though. What's the big deal?
This I can not explain.
This little disaster was followed by a day in Indianapolis. There must be something strange in the water there. We had the worst crew of the tour by far. Most people had never seen a lightbulb much less a dozen video screens that they were responsible for all day. One of the locals spent most of his day on the phone, on the stage, with who could only have been his parole officer. He just kept saying 'I can't go back to jail' while pushing cases around.
We did a show at the Egyptian Room. I'm not quite sure why it's called that.
Oh, no wait. I do.
I took a picture of these buildings when I was here last year with Death Cab. It was winter and it looked exactly like Berlin. The summer was just as oppressive, but slightly more inviting. Just slightly.
Ally sings to Norah Jones, because he can.
After the show we all wandered over to what may be the best bar ever (excluding the entire city of New Orleans, because there is nothing like a nola bar anywhere). The Chatterbox is where, after the last show here, all of us, band, crew and the support band (ted leo) hung out. It was the first real opportunity for us all to relax and catch up a bit. The setting was much the same the other night. The bar is packed with kids from the show who don't really care that the band they just watched is sitting next to them. They did, however, send over several rounds of drinks to our table. We had a chance to hang with Calla who have been really great. This is mid-discussion about Kurt Vonnegut versus James Dean in a local hero battle royal.
Kansas City was next. The day began with Bob 'Anger Management' Lewis picking up his radio and saying 'no one panic, but we are in Missouri.' Wild card. When the band walks on stage he whispers 'we're doomed' into a mircophone that only the crew onstage can hear. Last night he was complaining about having squirrels in his house. He calls Chad 'The Mad Cheeseburger.' Bob is a star.
Anywho, it was a beautiful day. We had, by contrast, the best crew that we'd had so far. I had lots of time to wander the street that the venue was on. It's packed with record and book stores. It's a neat little area in a town that can be not so great. Ally and I were bored so went went to get tattoos. I am sticking to my story that I got a dragon eating a pony. Truth. This was also the place, on my last tour through here, that the support band discovered my blog, and the not so nice things that I had to say about them. To be fair, it wasn't very nice, but neither were they. So there. In the spirit of that little escapade, I am going to avoid trash talking anyone. Here's a picture.
One of the tour mascots, holding down the place.
As I was saying, today I am in Kentucky. I couldn't find my pal Steve who took me out for records and Chilli the last time I was here, so I was left to my own devices. I found a mall and saw The Simpsons Movie. It was a nice distraction from the thought of being in Kentucky, across the street from The Southgate House.
And the drive-through liquor store.
I am enjoying my last day off before the next swell of the touring storm. Tomorrow's day sheet reads 'last chance for a shower until DC.' We are in Kentucky. Grim. Lollapalooza is Friday. It will be hot. I fly to Japan on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to it. I still have a ton of work to do for our next tour, and the one after that, and the Spoon tour that starts in a month, oh, and that film project that I have somehow gotten myself involved in. I need an assistant and some ice cream. This has kept me going. My friend James in Australia got this tattoo a while back (his latest is the moon from the mighty boosh). He owns a bar, and I think he mentioned the idea once, and his bartenders harassed him until he actually got it done. Yeah, it's Jar Jar Binks.
Just remember, your vote counts.
1 Comments:
oh! the sign used to say "big daddy's! The mother of all liquor stores."
i crashed my car there once but no one was around to see so i drove away.
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