The gig went without incident. English punks are safe in America on Independence Day it would seem. Anyway stuff the gig. The bit afterwards is far more interesting, if not necessarily believable. . .So we meet a trio of lovely ladies from the South and head of to their place for some after hours drinking. It's a car drive away and we gleefully put our lives in their hands.
At about 8am I wake up on the couch. Only Stilly (drum tech) remains. D (drums) is M.I.A. D is always M.I.A. The bus leaves at 11am. He'd better be on it. At about 8.15 D bowls in with one of the lovely Southern ladies.
"Hey D, where've you been?"
"To the grassy knoll."
"What?"
"We took a spin out to the grassy knoll to see where Kennedy took the bullet. The weird thing is that when we got there are 6.45am there was already a group of about 12 people there. They were dressed quite normally in suits and stuff and they were waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Don't know. We needed to get a drink so we walked a couple of blocks to find a soda and when we came back they'd all gone and a young couple with a dog were waiting in the same spot."
"What time was that?"
"7.05am. Then we got talking to the couple and asked them what they were waiting for. They showed us an advert in the local paper. It read: ALIEN PICK UP SCHEDULED. 7.00AM SUNDAY 5TH JULY 1998 AT THE GRASSY KNOLL."
"What?"
"We told them that there were a bunch of other people waiting earlier that had gone. They were upset. They'd driven from Kansas to be here at 7.00am but they didn't make it in time and now the others had gone. They were really nice people, but they were bummed out because they think they missed the mothership."
This could have only happened to D. That boy is a marvel. A freak magnet. I crawl into bed at 12 midday. This tour is mad.
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