It's getting weird to play in venues where we've played before, four years ago.
I have the worst memory.
I forget to meet people, I lose my wallet, I lose my Keys. I put toast on and sit behind the computer and forget about it until the house reeks of burning. I even run baths and forget about it and soak the bathroom.
But I can walk into a venue I haven't been in for four years and remember the last gig there, where the dressing room is and the face of the runner. Mutated neural pathways? Lemme know.
The show is incredible. It's another sell out crowd and there are 1100 people crammed into this place tonight. As we take to the stage there is a cheer, which is very nice.
At home they usually wait to hear if you suck or not before you get any credit. Tonight we get to hang our newly finished backdrop for the first time. A massive melting union jack with our logo splashed across it. You can't get punker than that. Hopefully everyone is getting the fact that we fly the flag with a great sense of IRONY. It is melting for a reason . . .
I got to stage dive a good few times and Jim (guitar) almost surprised me with a splendid dive of his own during the last tune. I got so excited I dived in with him. Tag team double whammy!
After show I hooked with a couple of old Chicago friends Andy and Sean (aka The Windy City Cartel). Andy was driving his 'Swinger', smoking pot in a one hitter and looking at me for extended periods of time whilst ignoring the road and other cars. All the while we're listening to the new Public Enemy LP (which sounded damn fine, check it out). A few beers and a few bars later we are heading back to the Shark. Andy has gone and I'm bumming a lift from his friend who I just met, and who's name I can't remember. He's a massive guy in a leather hat driving an old police car.
"Nice car."
"Yeah, I never get pulled over."
"Nice."
"I've got a monster truck too. Cost me $31,000. I fucking love that truck. I can crawl underneath it on my hands and
knees and I'm six foot four! I bought it to transport horses. I just hooked up with the finest woman I ever had in my life
and she loves horses. So I've sold everything to buy a farm and horses and a monster truck to tow 'em."
"Nice."
My friend takes another drag on the one hitter as we pull up next to a cop car one lane over at the lights.
"I love to take a hit next to the man."
"Ha ha ha ha ha."
The couple in the back seat laugh out. Chicago is full of cops. It's cop land.
A national theme park for cops. 'COP LAND'. A new kind of theme park where you constantly get pulled over on all the rides,
and fat ,ugly, thin lipped, woman less men in tight blue uniforms shine torches in your face and ask you where you've been.
Who polices the police? . .
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