Sunday, December 07, 2008


Cha Cha Cha

For one reason or another I found myself on a flight from San Francisco to Milwaukee. The guy sitting next to me was leaning over my shoulder watching the episode of Saxondale that I had playing on my ipod. It felt a little strange so I decided to casually alternate between the Pantera and Slipknot tour videos which both, oddly enough, feature people drinking Jagermeister until they are physically sick, as well as plenty of fake blood and real poop. Guy lost interest pretty quickly in the things that were going on in my life. So, I arrived in Milwaukee to find the rest of the group that I was meeting sitting around baggage claim looking rather dejected. Their flight from Chicago was meant to get in several hours before mine, but was delayed. A few of them were also missing bags. As I got there a single baggage carousel started hemoraghing suitacses from five separate flights.

It quickly deteriorated into utter, and rather comical chaos.  I suppose I could have been a better member of the human race and lent a hand, but when some guy shoved me out of the way, and opted to scale the moving mountain of bags rather than wait for it to come back around I figured that the whole fiasco would just work itself out. Shortly after the airline staff managed to get the bits of his clothing and hair out of the belt things  got back to normal.

It was back to The Eagles ballroom the next day where it is eternally cold, still looks and smells like the inside of a toilet, the power cuts out during every show ever, and, to top it off, you can still smoke indoors, so my hat smells like an ashtray.

Complaints aside, The dressing rooms are pretty cozy. There's a big pile of pillows in one corner that is pretty ideal for napping. It's surrounded by lava lamps and lit candles which set a nice vibe, but I'd feel safer holding a lit tiki torch while standing in a barrel of jet fuel. Also, well after my nap someone pointed out that there are most likely dead things buried deep in the pillow pile, but I try not to think about it.

As I mentioned earlier, Milwaukee airport has a huge used book store just beyond it's departure gates. It's a pretty cool spot. I was feeling a little homesick so I picked up a book on the unsolved trailside murders in Marin county in the 80's. I found it to be an oddly soothing story in spite of some of it's gruesome accounts. While reading about an abduction on Mt. Tam I could only thing, wow, I really wish I were there now, taking a nice, sunny hike up the mountain or getting bound, gagged and thrown in the trunk of a car. Either seemed rather more pleasant than being in Milwaukee in December. Getting out of town proved to be interesting. The departure gate left a little bit to be desired. We are on a road to nowhere, it would seem.

Take that, recombobulation area.

After a solid day of being subjected to Christmas carols being piped into two different airports it was refreshing to see stage hands assembling Christmas trees for yet another holiday-themed radio show.

Home of the rock.

I'm home for the weekend, then up to Seattle for a show. This is the home stretch. If anyone gets in my way I will start punching necks.