Gonna be awful hard to leave Rome today… what wonderful hospitality, splendid weather, amazing food — reuniting with some lovely friends, getting to know new ones. I tell you, one can’t ask for more from a business trip in any profession. Rome will keep a piece of my heart, & I will be back in May with my posse THE GNAGNOS, so lookout Centurions!
So Friday morning I arrived at Schoenefled airport in good time, my Absinth collection safely contained in proper international aviation and weed dealer approved ziplock baggies — in my carry-on luggage… nothing to hide here, authorities.
Priority boarding with Ryan Air is nice once you GET IN to the gate room, but the extra security passport czeck to get into the waiting room is every traveller for themselves, so still had an annoying wait. The benefit of priority boarding was getting to choose an exit-row aisle seat… the only way to travel if you ask me… Leg room + freedom to get up and walk the aisles without climbing over some another agro traveler is a serious bonus… all in exchange for the promise to help women and children first in the case of an emergency… insert joke here.
The darling Artisia Starlight picked me up and we hit the highway for Ferrara, stopping at an Autogrill for a coffee and salad. Her broken English & my butchered Italian made for a fun ride — we had some great laughs & I learned some key Italian phrases, much to her delight at my using a Mexican accent.
More about the show later… right now off to the Millenium Club in Bologna to rock this towm.
You may hear from me when I make it to Rome, if I can find the right road.
A somewhat random inspection had me detained at the airport… they cited questionable liquids, mostly green in color.
By the time they bought the allegation that my ‘great aunt’ in Italy was an avid collector of small liquor bottles & I was breaking no international travel laws, it was too late to board, so I got shuffled onto the flight for tomorrow morning… Gott sei Dank!
That’s right ladies and gents… provided I can find decent web access in Italy this week, I will be posting more lurid details of my upcoming travels…
Yes indeed, many of the following posts
have been posted via devices from the road,
clubs, & hotels with halfway decent connection.
the stories contained do nothing to protect,
the innocent never got involved
you’ve been forewarned…
Berlin has had a fairly steady flow of snow to keep the traction under foot crunchy, so I don’t complain.
Many new things brewing here for the Fezster… Doing a foto shoot w/ the ‘tones fir the vinyl release of PTTP, having Xmas w/ beloved family-less misfit Berliners, dealing poker at Boheme Sauvage on Silvester, hosting Pinky’s Peepshow at the Bassy Club in February, presenting Fez Wrecker’s Rock n Roll High School night in March, & meanwhile recording some new tracks for lord knows what.
Suffice it to say that wintertime is a time of hibernation for creation, & I’m a grizzly bear. Oh yeah, a big new project is brewing too involving moving pictures… I’ll keep the faithful updated.
I made it back safely, albeit mit jetlag.
Time to rest easy… Whatever that means in this town.
The tour ended a couple nights ago as we delivered an amazing show to a hip crowd at London’s legendary 100 Club… & as the van (my home for home for the past 9 weeks) trickled out if sight into the Waterloo Sunset towards Dover, I waved goodbye, & strolled down Bayswater Road to begin my extended stay in the capital of Britain.
It has been an amazing experience & I didn’t want to sink immediately into a post-tour depression or melancholy, which I know from experience now as an occupational hazard.
The idea is to immediately jump into another project, which for me us not too difficult since my stove has run out of back-burners. I have some film in the can ready fir editing & lots of contacts to begin following up with for upcoming tours next year when I hope to be back on the road mire than not.
I’m currently in Islington neighborhood of London, staying on a cozy couch in the flat of three international angels, grateful for their hospitality, giving me a chance to wind down before returning to Berlin for serious decompression and major reality czeck.
If you don’t hear from me in one week, I’ve either been kidnapped, incarcerated or murdered. Love you all!
The last days of the war.
A bitter winter not of our discontent.
The battle surges on, after the brief respite in safe harbor.
Covering the ground between here and London,
rough travels ahead.
Repacked, reloaded —
Not home yet, but I’ll know it when I get there.
Tonight, I will be on my guard…