PANIC IN THE USA

Days have been long, nights have been full out here. The weirder the road gets the better it is at this stage of the game. But I’m feeling a little flat and wasted this morning. Glad I’m not the kind of person that wears sweatpants. I might not have the energy to get out of them. But honestly, these marine drill like tours of duty are morphine for my psyche. It’s hard to feel anything or think about anything when you’re yelling “HURRY THE FUCK UP! PLEASE. JUST. DRY. ALREADY!” at a sock that won’t, thanks to a seriously underpowered hairdryer in some greasy room out by the motorway. [And keep in mind, you’re doing this while you KNOW the band is waiting in the lobby feeding and watering their resentments]. But what can a poor boy do? Walk around in nasty socks even a bass player would throw away? All in all, I think we’ve been having a decent time. Good times all over really. UK, Ireland (with our team mascot John Murry on campus!), Vienna, and beyond. Had a real cool time in Belgrade. Belgrade, people! It was off the hook. I swelled with pride when I saw what looked like a thousand empty plastic beer cups on the floor when we were packing up. It was like someone else’s gig! And if I had to pick between a gig like that, and well, barricading myself inside our apt. pretending I’m not home every time the door bell rings…. Okay, I’d still have to go with the barricading (but only if I could throw in some episodic TV binging), but seriousness aside, the band is playing great. Really loving having our newest member Vicente Rodriguez, straight outta San Antonio, drive us from behind the drums. So, that’s about it.