The tour begins...

We pulled in to JFK airport and the shananagans began quickly. We had engaged in considerable deliberation over the best way to pack and had concluded that we would stuff as much as we could into one big suitcase. When I travel I check my big electronics case which is unfortunately over weight (one of these days I’ll figure out how to lose ten pounds) and my tuba which comes just under the allotted fifty pounds. So right off the bat I pay one over weight fee and a second bag fee. I carry on to the plane a bunch of pedals and my mixing board in a bag and usually a second bag with my computer and other assorted things. Steve was bringing a bag and a small suitcase to put in the overhead with his clothes. The big question revolved around the cymbal bag which he claimed he could carry on and gate check thereby avoiding being charged for it. The snare drum and the cymbal stand and his mixer and cables and the cds and the power transformer and some other odds and ends were left. Should we cram them all into one big case and pay the overweight fee or should we split stuff in two and have Steve check two items and pay for an extra bag. The overweight fee and the bag fee were equal so we went with the overweight figuring that if we didn’t get away with the gate check of the cymbal bag the fee for a third bag is astronomical. Amazingly everything worked according to plan although the suitcase was actually too heavy and we had to put the power transformer in Steve’s clothes suitcase. We flew into Paris no problem and all the baggage made it fine. We found the car rental place and I realized that in my stupidity I had reserved the car for rental the day before we got there. Fortunately the woman at the counter dealt with my stupidity well and we were on our way. The new gps worked like a charm and we drove through the night to Roma. The drive was pretty exhausting but went with few hitches. We arrived in Rome late morning and I decided to check and make sure all the equipment was working before we crashed out. My first attempt at cranking up the new power transformer (There was no way to test it when I got it) resulted in a loud explosion. Actually my first attempt was a complete failure but I quickly figured out that not all the outlets where we were worked. Fortunately is was just the fuse that had shattered and I had two more fuses with me. I popped in the second one, readjusted the settings on the transformer and plugged in and once again there was a popping sound. Fuse number two was done. I put in the third and last fuse and this time nothing happened at all. Fortunately after some panic I realized we had blown the fuse to the outlet. We fixed that and all was well. I plugged in all my equipment and miraculously everything worked perfectly. That never happens when I fly. At the very least something always comes unplugged. Steve and I walked around a bit and then found a couch at Forte Fanfulla (what we thought was the venue but it was actually right down the street. An annex of sorts.) where we promptly crashed hard and deep. So deep that we actually slept through a book reading which started up well after we had fallen asleep. We woke up and took our stuff down the block to the venue and set everything up. We ate dinner and by that time it was almost time to play the show. I was starting to feel quite strange which at first I thought was just a lack of proper sleep but then I started to feel like maybe I needed to throw up. I rarely vomit but I have had food poisoning a few times and I was thinking that was what was going on. It was almost show time though and though I felt like throwing up I didn’t know if I was ready. I wretched a couple times outside the club and went back inside and played the set. By the end of the show I was getting dizzy and was desperately trying to both not puke and not pass out. We played drowning (a song written for Steve Mackay) last and I felt like I was really channeling the vibe of the song as I furiously kept from falling apart. We played The Triumph of Delusion last and I immediately left the bar, walked out to the car and threw up all the crap I’d eaten over the last 24 hours or so. The volume was quite impressive. I immediately felt better but completely weak and exhausted. I went back in, packed up my stuff, told Steve I’d be out in the car and fell deliriously asleep. Steve stayed and sold cds and schmoozed with our hosts. Thank goodness I had him with me. I woke up confused in the car at about 5 in the morning and Andrea (the promoter) took us to his apartment to crash. I woke up still exhausted the next day and completely unable to eat. Steve grabbed a bite with Andrea at Fanfulla and then we loaded up the car to drive to Pisa for a show. I could tell Steve didn’t want to leave. These were really good people and the weather was beautiful and he was going through that thing on the road where you’ve had a great time and you wish you could just stay and do all the wonderful things people in that given place are telling you about and share all the wonderful times with them that you could have if only you could stay longer. Unfortunately there’s always another show to get to. I had to be the bad guy and end it all so we got in the car and started driving to Pisa where hopefully another adventure awaits. Preferably one that doesn’t involve me getting sick. By the way, Italy is not the place to get food poisoning. There’s too much tempting food everywhere you go.
The drive to Pisa was pretty easy until the last kilometer or so. There was simply no way to get to the club and the streets around it are incredibly confusing. After an hour of driving in circles I finally got out and walked to the venue and got the sound man (fonico in Italian) Eduardo to come drive us closer. When we got to the venue I sat down for a moment and broke through the chair which reminded me that last time I was here I busted the seat of the toilet (it’s still broken). Is that a sign I need to lose weight? I’m gonna wrap up here because we are about to play a show for what is, at this point, two people. Se va…

The last show

There's a combination of exhaustion and a sense of loss as a tour draws to it's end. No matter how many problems there were and how difficult things were as the last show approaches one becomes nostalgic sad elated and tired all at once. I can't wait to go home but I don't want it to end. I played a last minute show in Paris tonight thanks to Mika. Getting there was a serious adventure. The night before was the last group show with the fellas in Le mans. I think though we were all exhausted it was easily the best show. I felt like steve and Kamil were actually listening to each other and were finally somewhat in synch. I still think we never quite worked out a whole set but such is life. The next day we woke late and Mika confirmed the show in Paris. We left around two and as per usual Kamil avoided the toll roads and consequently we arrived during late rush hour traffic. It was determined that if we tried to take the van to the center of Paris we'd be stuck in traffic all night. Roco, Vanessa, and I ended up getting out at the outermost subway stop and shlepping all my stuff on the train. I almost got stuck with my tuba on my back in the turnstile and it was pretty crowded in the train but we manages to both get to my hotel room and avoided clobbering anyone with my tuba case. After checking in we hopped back on the subway for a few stops to get to the club. At the last second I realized that I would need Kamil's power converter to plug my equipment in. Fortunately he was still dropping steve off at his hotel so he was able to get to the venue in plenty of time to make the show happen. The show almost fell apart due to equipment problems but I took a break and solved the sound issues and it ended up being really fun. After We hung out for a while and one by one said goodbye. I hugged roco and mike and Kamil and realized I would miss them all very much. We all struggled together and battled our way through five weeks and that'll either turn you into enemies or friends and I can gladly say it was the latter. The question of whether I would tour together again is a whole other issue that is more about how I like to do things than how much I like all these people. I know we'll all be friends for life even if we never get in to a van together again. I will miss Europe very much and I can't wait to get cracking on booking another absurd over the top adventure of a tour. Now we'll see if I make it home tomorrow as it was snowing after the show. The subway had stopped running and it was impossible to get a cab so that meant a 3.5k walk in the snow and rain. I'm totally exhausted but awake and wired at the same time...

A moment of some kind

So we pull over at a tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere between Bordeaux and Britagne. It's Sunday and it's pretty dead and not much is open so we decide to eat there. It reminds me of a trucker stop in Texas. There's a small tv in the corner and it's showing a really absurd shakira video. We order some sketchy food that's edible but far from French standard fare. Truck stop food. We finish our meal and on the tv an Iggy Pop video comes on and there, briefly on tv, for 3 truckers and the two old ladies who work at the cafe to see, is Steve Mackay. I look over at Steve and he's discreetly throwing up his beef goulash back on to his plate and covering it with napkins. About fifteen minutes later after we're back on the road driving Steve receives a phone call. Who is it? Iggy Pop of course...

Good will

Kamil is a great guy. He means really well and in many ways we are very similar. He tends towards a dark negativity with which I can relate but I do think it's important to fight that tendency and see good in people and the world around us. Otherwise what's the point. I do think our vastly different upbringings influence this difference though. He grew up under communist rule and spent a couple years in prison for political reasons. Though we have different ways of doing and seeing things it's mostly that we're both stubborn in our ways which makes things difficult. I think the responsibilities of taking care and worrying for steve have also accentuated all the trials and tribulations of the tour. Steve too is an amazing person. He's pretty straight forward about the drinking and he's certainly experienced everything under the sun. At this point I'm not sure this tour was the best idea for him. I hope that if he does this again he makes sure there is a certain level of comfort involved. I've felt like at certain moments there was just not nearly enough planning on Kamil's part in relation to how certain situations would effect steve. It's a serious responsibility and I think Kamil dropped the ball a bit. It's different for me and Roco and Mika. I can deal and adapt to any situation. I'm not sure Kamil fully understood before the tour what physical and mental condition steve was at. Also, musically Kamil obvious wants something specific and I think steve is not necessarily on the same wavelength and in the same place. I kind of wish they'd discussed what they wanted to do more before the tour but I don't think that's Kamil's style. He's a force of nature and he just plows forward without always thinking through repercussions and consequences and such. In any case there's not much that can be done now. There are three shows left and they should be pretty good and I've learned invaluable lessons and had some truly amazing experiences. I'm gonna go home and I'm gonna practice a lot and write new songs and I'm gonna learn some French and some Italian and I can't wait to book another tour...

Bread and cheese

It's crazy how much better the bread is in France. Incredibly tasty and rich. Italy as well. Most of my meals have consisted of bread cheese and occasionally sausage. I think that's pretty much my favorite meal in the world at this point. I guess it's kind of like barbecue in Texas or fried fish in new Orleans or burritos in California. Who knows exactly why but the bread here is an entirely different meal unto itself

The good soldier

I'm playing the good soldier. I'm good at putting my head down and doing the job that needs to be done but I can clearly say that I will never be the cog on someone else's wheel again. Im fully capable of following orders I don't agree with but it's a little soul sapping. This tour has explained quite clearly to me why I chose to do a solo act. I prefer living life on my own terms...

For example

A good barometer of how I will do things different when I come back to Europe on my own is the way we've done hotels. We've only gotten two on the trip. One was a youth hostel type thing in Berlin and the other was tonight in Bordeaux. I initially found a good three star place online for 42 euros. Everyone else wanted to stay at a formula 1. Little box rooms with shared showers and bathrooms. I sucked it up but it really makes a difference if you spend a tiny bit more bit experience serious luxury