Welcome

Hi There.

This is a little one-off writing exercise I decided to undertake for a challenge over at T's Place.  It's not really a biscuit, not really a story.  The challenge was to create a journal for one of my characters, and to include certain types of events or posts.  I won't bore you with the details, but if you are interested, head on over to T's and check out the Mission Impossible thread.  

Anyway, I was intrigued by the challenge, and since my Jonny Muse is a Diva who doesn’t know how to shut up I figured I may as well write down what he’s saying, LOL.  

This is a journal kept by “Jon” from my Stick to Your Guns fic.  It refers to events that were discussed in STYG and its follow-up biscuits.  It starts the day after Just Older and ends several days after Strangers in the Night. It is loosely based on real events as the band toured Central and South America.

Chances are if you're here it's because you've already read these stories or you are just familiar with my work in general.  If you haven't read those tales and would like to, just click on the titles above and follow the link.  If not, carry on....

Hope you enjoy this little peek inside the brain of "my" Jon. 

Monday, September 20

6:30 am

Home

Being up this early sucks.  I hate trying to readjust to Tour Time.  I’m too old for this shit.

Still can’t believe Steph has a real boyfriend.  She didn’t say as much, but I could tell by the way she was looking at that kid last night that she thinks she’s in love.  Nice kid, seems to treat Steph well, but he’s a teenage boy.  I know exactly what’s on his mind.  Plus he looks too damned much like Sambora did when he was a kid.

Christ, I wonder if Steph is still a virgin?  Better talk to Dot about that.  Don’t want to even THINK about it, but I guess I have to.  Steph has a good head on her shoulders, but she’s a kid.  She’s my Princess.  Just yesterday she was hiding her shoes in the freezer.  My Little Cuckoo.

I guess no Dad wants to think of his Baby Girl growing up.  Davey’s in the same boat with Gaby, Rich with Ava. Ha ha.  He better buy a shotgun.  Ava’s got his wild streak.  Thank God Dorothea kept good tabs on Steph.

Need to hit the gym.  Think I gained 5 lbs on vacation. My gut’s getting flabby.  Need to start the cleanse – no more eating crap.  No more wine.  Well, maybe some wine.

Today:  phoners, pack, quick spa.  Cate doesn’t want me to cut my hair.  Just shave, facial, nails.  Maybe spackle for the wrinkles.  (Check with Nancy about botox???)  Massage later.  If that doesn’t work, chiro.  Back is killing me from doing wife on the floor, ha ha. 

Last night home.  Dinner with Cate, order in so she doesn’t have to cook.  She has court today. Hope she has time to run that background.

Off and running….

Tuesday, September 21

2:30 pm

In the Air

Wheels up again.  Why the fuck do we keep doing this?  Miss my kids and Cate already.  Wish she could have come with me but she has court and something else for work coming up.  Of course she can’t tell me what.  Damned office can’t even spare her for 2 weeks.

At least we’ll have good Mexican food for dinner tonight. 

Back still killing me.  I’m too old for this shit.

Dave looks like he’s up to something.  Then again, he’s always up to something.  Note to self:  do NOT let Davey near my luggage.

Wednesday, September 22

5:30 pm

Mexico City

Back in the land of Don’t Drink The Water.  Stayed up way late last night to try to get body back on Vampire Time.  Gets harder and harder to wake up by noon.  Had to have Dean give me an adjustment.  Back still hurts, between sitting on plane yesterday and weekend’s “activities.”

Decided to come check out the venue though there’s not much for me to do.  Just keep getting shuffled out of the way by roadies and techies.  Bare-bones setup, no pit/circle ramp.  Security is crazy, worried things will get out of hand.  They don’t want me surrounded by fans or in a place where they can’t haul me offstage if they need to.  Chief wasn’t amused when I pointed out I’m like a moving target in a shooting gallery when I’m onstage anyway.  Ping! Ping! Ping!  Try to hit the bouncing bulls-eye.  

Cate probably wouldn’t find that funny either.

We can’t even go out in the city and sightsee, security team is so paranoid.  With all the drug cartels fighting for control down here the city is like war zone – kidnapping, assaults, murders.  Even in the nicer parts of town. The government is crooked, the cops are corrupt.  Can’t imagine what it must be like for the poor who have to live in the middle of all this mayhem.  Especially the kids.  Unimaginable.  No wonder so many want to emigrate to America, legally or otherwise.  Reminds me again of how lucky Americans are, even in the worst of circumstances.  But we still have a lot of work to do in our own backyard.

Cate’s glad I’m not giving the security team any shit. I can tell she’s worried about me – about all of us.  She sees a lot of stuff at work that she can’t tell me, especially about what’s going on in this region.  Since she started working on that task force she pays pretty close attention to the news about what’s going on down here.  I know she’s watching to see what the press knows, because if it’s on TV the bad guys know it too.  She made it a point to have me read an article about the cartel violence in Washington Post magazine before I left.  Scary shit.  Her way of reminding me not to take any chances.

Sometimes I really hate her job.  I know she loves it and I admire the hell out of her for what she does.  But it takes her away from me and it puts her in danger, though she doesn’t see it that way.  Cate worries about ME being in danger as I sit here surrounded in a fucking luxury fortress and get driven around with a police escort, when she’s the one who carries a gun and hunts down bad guys.  Talk about a matter of perspective.

Think it’s officially time to head back to the hotel – Richie is wandering around backstage wearing a serape and a sombrero, playing his Martin, demanding somebody bring him his burro.  Funny shit.  Have a bunch of prep to do for GH promo and enough paperwork to choke Richie’s burro (maybe that’s where it went?)  Tomorrow’s a long day of press calls, radio station event, reception, etc.  No time for anything but work.

Looks like room service tonight, call kids & wife, gym, maybe in-room movie.  Good porn here South of the Border, ha ha.  Then again, maybe not.  Gonna be a long 2 weeks away from Cate – no need to make it worse.  I’m too fucking old to be jacking off in my hotel room.

Glamorous fucking rock star life.

Thursday, September 23

4:30 pm

Mexico City

Fucking ridiculous.  Just had to smile and play nice with a bunch of KISS Army rejects that were sprung on us at the reception by the radio station.  No fucking warning whatsoever – just here comes this gang of crazies.  Apparently some nephew of a wife of a cousin of the promoter is in this bunch, or some shit.  Security is worried about somebody in the crowd at the show getting to me, and they let these fucking wackos come inside the event?  Unfuckingbelievable.  Like we don’t have enough shit to do already without dumping something like this on us.

Friday, September 24

8:15 pm

Mexico City

Soundcheck done.  As good as it’s gonna get though Obie’s not happy.  What else is new?  Setlist done, warmup done, parade of visitors done, just need my back cracked.  Few moments of solitude, time for game face.  Feel the adrenaline kick in, right on cue.

Miss you, Steph, Jess, Jake, Romeo.  Miss you, Cate.  All my love.  Wish you were here.

Here we go again….

Saturday, September 25

11:30 am

Somewhere over South America

On plane to Costa Rica.  Show was good last night; good crowd, smooth set.  Nobody shot at my ass, ha ha.  Matt said they could probably hit it, as big as it got during the break.  Fucker.  Like he didn’t pack on a few pounds of home cooking too.  But I’ll lose mine in a week, his will still be there at Christmas.  Ha ha Little Bro.

Cate’s in the office today, another Saturday working.  She works all the damned time now.  Something’s up.  I can tell but she can’t tell me.  Drives me fucking nuts, though I probably really don’t want to know.

Talked to Dorothea and kids.  Romeo is bugging D for a pet ferret.  I think it’s a cool idea, D’s not so thrilled at idea of having a “weasel” in the house.  She never did like rodents.  Told her I’d back her decision, but “Santa” may have to deliver.  Or Uncle Mookie.  She’d LOVE that.

Had long talk with Dorothea about Steph.  Once again I’m amazed at what a fantastic parent she is.  She told me she & Steph have coffee every Sunday morning (unless Steph’s at my place) to talk about “woman stuff.”  Including sex.  Argh.  D said Steph is very candid and admitted she and Brendan have “experimented” but are taking it slow.  Christ, there is NO WAY I could have a convo like that with Steph—would even be tough with Jess.  I’d imagine Steph would never want to talk like that with Dorky Dad, either.  Some things are between Mothers & Daughters.  Thank God. 

D wouldn’t give me any details, insisted what she and Steph talk about is private.  She won’t betray Steph’s trust.  That’s good, but SHIT.  Doesn’t give me much peace of mind.  D said I don’t have to worry—Steph is safe and responsible and knows she can talk to us.  Steph also told D she completely trusts Brendan and he’s the one insisting they not jump into sex.  (FUCK, I can’t believe I’m writing this!!!!)  What’s wrong with a 17-year-old boy who doesn’t want to nail every cute piece of tail in sight?  He better not be getting action on the side while playing gentleman with my Baby.  If he hurts Steph that way I’ll rip his nuts off.

Yeah, probably why it’s a good thing D’s handling this.

I miss her being my Baby.  Daddy’s Little Girl.  Guess I’ll never have that again, until I’m a Grandpa.  (Don’t want to think about that either.)

Wonder why Cate never wanted kids?  She’s a fantastic Stepmom.  Romey adores her.  She’d be a great Mom.  Come to think of it, she’s never actually answered that question.  When we talk about kids and her past and our marriages she just kind of glosses over it.  It’s not medical (I don’t think), not due to her injury.  Maybe I should ask her again.

Time to play CEO and take care of some paperwork before we land.

Sunday, September 26

1:00 pm

San Jose

Finally a little vacation time!   Got up early to hit the beach for some early-morning surfing instead of a run.  Dean, Dave, Matt, and Ryan went along.  Dean set it up yesterday, got the boards and gear and everything so we could hit the waves early.  Was beautiful—nice waves, peaceful, quiet.  Well, except for all the cursing and yelling ‘cause we suck at surfing, ha ha.  I haven’t surfed in years—decades.  I was a kid last time I really tried.  Boogie boarding doesn’t count, apparently—longboard is totally different.  It’s fucking hard!  We were out there two hours, and I finally managed to hold on to a wave and ride it all the way in a couple times by the end.  Had a blast though the water was COLD.  Even the wetsuit didn’t help – my nuts sucked up so far inside my body cavity when that first wave hit I swear they still haven’t come back down.  I’ll be half an octave high at the show tonight, ha ha.

Costa Rica is such a beautiful country, amazing beaches.  Southside comes here all the time.  He has a place on the beach north of San Jose.  Maybe I should take him up on his offer to use it, maybe this winter during the break.  Kids would love it, especially Jess.  Jess and I could take surfing lessons – not sure Jake and Romey would be ready.   Steph wouldn’t be interested – she’d want to shop or hang out on the beach.  Cate may actually want to surf—don’t know if she can or not.  Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s done it before.  She’s had lots of adventures I’m still learning about.

Actually, this might be the perfect place for Cate and me to slip away and finally enjoy that honeymoon I’ve been promising her for almost a year now.  I wanted to take her to Italy in August but she insisted I spend the break with the kids.  She could tell how much I missed them.  What she said made me almost choke on the lump in my throat: “Jon, we have the rest of our lives to live our honeymoon.  You only have a fleeting moment to watch your kids grow up.  Be with them, I’m not going anywhere.”

How did I get so damned lucky to find her?  I always thought Dorothea was my forever, the only woman who would understand me.  After we split I figured I would spend the rest of my life with female companions, not a soulmate.  But Cate – it’s like she and I are two halves of the same whole.  Together we’re complete, apart we’re both a little empty.  I’m the luckiest man on earth – I’ve had two great loves.  I just keep rubbing that horseshoe in my ass and saying my prayers.  I’m one Lucky Fuck.

6:45 pm

Cate called when we were finishing soundcheck.  I was working so she left me a voicemail.  She’s on a plane now, I can’t reach her.  She’s on her way to fucking Bogota, Colombia.  She can’t tell me why, just that it’s for work, it was a no-notice trip for a case.  She’ll be at the Embassy tonight. 

She says she’ll call me after the show and not to worry, but FUCK, how can I not?  What the hell is Cate doing with this case that she has to jump a plane to the fucking Cocaine Capitol of the World with a couple hours’ notice?

I HATE HATE HATE her job.  I hate that she has to run off to these dangerous damned places.  The NY field office seemed like the perfect solution when she moved there after Cali – she could still be a cop and work cases and keep her career, and we could be together.  She could come home to me, to OUR house. 

The guys at the NY office were great at first, letting her do leave without pay to travel with me when she wanted to.  They had her working financial crimes, plenty of that in NYC.  She could tell me a little about that—no names or details or anything but she admitted she’s one of the agency’s leading experts when it comes to asset tracking and money laundering.  I was glad—that sounds pretty safe. 

I guess it’s not when you think about it.  Who do cops try to catch by following their money trails?  Not just the fucking Bernie Madoffs of the world.  They track terrorists and drug kingpins, and with Cate’s military experience she’s obviously damned good at it.  She got more and more into these cases, started working longer hours and weekends.  Wasn’t such a big deal when I was on the road, in truth I was glad she had work to keep her busy.  She’s not the kind of woman who can just sit around or wander around the city or shop her way up and down Fifth Avenue.  Then she started going away more and more to places she couldn’t tell me, chasing terrorists or narcs or who the fuck knows who else. 

She always tries to let me know where she is and she checks in with me when she can, but sometimes its days between her calls.  Like when she does surveillances.  That drives me fucking insane, waiting for her to call and tell me she’s okay.  And when she does call half the time she has to leave a message because I’m in a meeting or onstage or sleeping or on a damned plane myself.  I try not to let her see how much that bothers me.  I don’t want her worrying about me or being distracted from what she has to do.  I want her to be focused on her safety, not on my feelings.  But it kills me to know she’s potentially in danger and there’s nothing I can do to protect her. 

And God forbid, if something ever happened to her how long would it take for me to find out?  She assures me somebody is always watching, always monitoring her when she’s operational (she talks about it so clinically, so detached), and that there would be lightning-quick response if something ever went bad.  But how long would it take for somebody to let ME know what happened?  What could they even TELL me?  Just that my wife is in a hospital somewhere and that they’ll keep me posted?  “Sorry, we can’t disclose what happened?”

I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her.  I can’t comprehend that, can’t wrap my head around it.  I pray to God I never have to find out.  God, just keep her safe, bring her home to me.  I believe that she’s not taking any unnecessary risks.  She’s too good at what she does to be stupid.  But there are necessary risks—it’s the nature of the business.  That’s what scares the fuck out of me.  These are not stable people she deals with out there.  They are criminals, with an utter and complete disregard for life.  For the life of MY WIFE.

I wish she was still teaching.  She was safe at the Center, and she loved her job.  She was brilliant at it.  It’s my fault she’s not there anymore.  She gave up so much for me.  She says it doesn’t matter, that she did it for US, not for me.  That’s not entirely true – it DOES matter.  She was on her way to the top.  She gave up a promotion and a Branch Chief position and an instructor job she loved, all because I asked her to.  I don’t regret it, but I feel guilty about it.  How can I not?   We all have to make sacrifices in our life, but the one she made for me is huge.  I didn’t offer to give up anything about my career for her, she had to change her life to fit mine.   I don’t thank her enough for that.  I should thank her every day for loving me and for putting up with me and for being brave enough to take a chance on me.

Okay, I’m a selfish bastard.  I want her to stop.  I want her to quit.  I want her to travel with me so I don’t have to leave her behind every time I get on a plane.  I want her to see me at work, to really see what I do, to be part of the team.  I want her to be there to fill the emptiness of those hotel rooms and these fucking tiny stadium dressing rooms.  I want to be able to look at her and catch her eye and see her smile.  I want her to hold my hand when I’m tired and to kick my ass when I’m being a prick.  I want to show her the world in a way she’s never seen it.  I want to give her anything her heart desires; I want to give her EVERYTHING. 

But I can’t give her everything.  I can’t give her her career.  If she quit for me, I would be taking away something that is a part of her.  I know how that feels – I was once on the other end of that type of ultimatum.  I couldn’t walk away from music, even for my family.  I can’t ask Cate to give up a part of herself for me, even for love.  I love her too much to ever do that to her. 

So I get to just sit here and worry myself stupid and scribble in this damned journal and count the minutes until I can talk to her and know she’s safe.  And then I have to go out on that stage and pretend like everything’s okay and I’m happy to be here singing for all these strangers when the only place I want to be is locked away in my house with Cate in my arms, where it’s safe and we’re alone.

It’s so fucking unfair.

Monday, September 27

3:15 am

San Jose

Trying to wind myself down to go to sleep.  Brain won’t stop.

Cate called again while I was onstage.  Said she knew I’d be worried so she wanted to leave me a message to say she arrived safely, she was at the Embassy, and she would be staying on the U.S. compound the whole time she’s in Bogota.  Thank God.  She’ll be there a week or two. I’ll probably be back home before she is.  

After that message she called right back and left me another one.  No work stuff, no checking in, no travel plans or details or I-can’t-tell-you shit.   Just a list of the reasons she loves me, how I make her feel, how she can’t wait to make love to me again. 

I’ve replayed it about a hundred times.  I can close my eyes and see her smile.  Wearing her scarf around my neck, the one she always slips in my bag before I leave.  I can smell her perfume. 

She knows me so well, always knows how to comfort me, to talk me down when I get spun up.  Even when she’s not here.  The only thing better will be when I can hold her again. 

1:10 pm

San Jose Airport

Finally got some sleep.  Talked to Cate when I woke up.  Everything looks better by the light of day.

She’s fine, working so couldn’t talk long.  She assured me she’s not doing ops in Colombia; just meetings.  That makes me feel better, though she didn’t say who she’s meeting with.  I assume with Colombian federal police and our people at the Embassy, probably military types too.  I don’t need or want to know – don’t need to get myself spun up again like last night.

Fantastic show last night – one of those almost out-of-body experiences I occasionally have.   Was so in the zone I don’t really remember the performance, but I do remember the crowd.  It was small—a LOT of empty stadium out there—but their energy was incredible.  I looked around at all those faces and just couldn’t believe it.  There were actually TEARS in a lot of those eyes.  Felt like the old days, back on Slippery and Jersey, when the audiences were just frenetic.  Such passion.  I could have sung all night. 

I needed a show like last night to jump-start me.  Just haven’t felt myself this leg.  I’m not phoning it in by any means—still leaving my pound of flesh out there under the lights.  But I just haven’t been able to focus like usual.  Maybe it’s because I know this is a short swing and then I’m back home again until December.  Hard to get amped up for the short sets sometimes. 

I miss my family, but no more than usual.  Cate’s trip has me a little worried, but I didn’t know about it until yesterday.  The thing with Steph has me a little freaked out too.  Maybe that’s the problem—I can’t quite get past the boyfriend yet.  I feel like I need to get back home and talk to Steph one-on-one about this.  Maybe then I’ll be able to let it go.

My caveman instinct must be kicking in.  Man have to protect woman and child, feel helpless when can’t.  Ugh.

Christ, I sound like a psychiatrist, analyzing myself.  Ha ha.

On to Lima today if we ever get out of the fucking airport.  On hour 4 of weather delay now.  Great way to spend the day, hiding in a corner of the VIP lounge with a briefcase full of paperwork.    

5:30 pm

Pop the champagne corks, folks!  PK just came over and told us the rumor is true – we’re being nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!  Official announcement in the morning. 

Know I have to play it cool, but I can’t stop fucking grinning.  I really thought we would be snubbed again this year.  It’s all political bullshit as to who gets in and who doesn’t, but it’s the fucking R&R HALL OF FAME.  How can we not be excited?  Trying not to get my hopes up too much that we’ll actually make it in, but this is the first step. 

PK doesn’t know who all else is nominated but said he heard Alice and Tom Waits were on the short list too.  Both would be great company in an induction class.  They both should have been in years ago, but that’s another rant.  Celebrate what we can first.

Still stuck in airport, so may as well have a party!

Tuesday, September 28

6:00 pm

Lima

Busy Busy Busy Day.  Phoners, press conference, print interviews, meet-and-greets.  My face hurts I’ve been smiling so fucking much.  Didn’t get to hotel until almost 2 am after flight delays.  Took a little extra to haul ass out of bed and get moving today.

Everybody wants to talk about the HOF nom, which is great.  Shitload of extra press though.  Also spent good amount of time with bookers trying fill schedule for GH promo push.  They want us to do something Oct 30 – I said absolutely not, Halloween weekend.  Spending it with Cate and my Kids.  Not missing another Trick-or-Treat or Mischief Night.  Can’t wait to get back home to see them.

Dorothea’s birthday tomorrow—flowers sent.  Old habits die hard. 

Dying to see Cate.  So damned horny I can hardly stand it.  Maybe she will have a free hour tonight for a little long-distance lovin’ ?   

Wednesday, September 29

7:05 pm

Lima

Holy fuck it’s fucking COLD!  Gonna freeze my nuts off onstage!  Not good for the voice either.

I’m too old for this shit.  Who the fuck booked outside venues in South America in the fucking fall?

Thursday, September 30

10:00 pm

Santiago

Back in Santiago.  Site of much historical debauchery, as Sambora gleefully pointed out.  Not gonna be much this week though.  Security is wound tight, hired some extra guys, Americans.  Lot of instability in the government right now, you can feel the tension in the air.  There was a fucking SWAT team at the airport.  We got a police escort to the hotel, lights and sirens and running stop signs.

We’re pretty much sequestered at the hotel now.  Tomorrow we’ll do press and the show, then wheels up right after.  Spending the weekend in Buenos Aires, which ain’t bad.  I’ve always liked that city.  Very vibrant and colorful, and amazing food and wine.  Have to see about shipping some wine back home.  Would send some from here but no time to go find some good local vintages.  Have to settle for whatever’s in the hotel bar tonight.

Saturday, October 2

1:15 am

Santiago Airport

On the plane, awaiting departure for Argentina.  Nothing but a quick shower at the venue, into travel clothes and GO.   Show was good, but knowing we were leaving right away had me a little antsy all night.

Shame we couldn’t get out to see the city.  It’s full of history and beauty.   Things were a lot different the first time we came here—nobody really gave a shit about us.  Now it seems like the world is full of mercenaries.

This security shit is getting old.  Don’t know how Cate deals with it on a daily basis.  Guess she doesn’t really notice, it’s so ingrained in her. 

Things should be a little more relaxed in BA.   Hope so.  I don’t do short-leash well for long.  Like nobody knows that, ha ha.  Matt keeps telling me to shut up and stop bitching.  He said if Mom wouldn’t give him Hell he’d just let me go get shot in the ass.  That’s brotherly love for ya.

Sunday, October 3

11:30 am

Buenos Aires

Ah, rise and shine in sunny Buenos Aires.  Breakfast on my balcony, heading out for a run in awhile.  Finally got a day off to relax yesterday.  Went out in the city and did some shopping, had dinner and great wine.  Still had security in tow, but more relaxed than last couple cities.   

Found a tasting room and tried some local wines.  Had a few cases of red sent back for Cate.  Will be nice to crack open a bottle and snuggle in front of the fire with her next week.  Naked.

Back to work today.  One more week until we’re back home.  Counting the hours.

Had a nice long chat with Steph yesterday.  Brendan’s taking her to homecoming dance next weekend.  She and Dorothea went shopping for her dress yesterday.  Took her about 10 minutes to describe it to me, she’s so excited.  Then she finally realized she could text me a pic.  Little Cuckoo. 

The whole time she was telling me about homecoming and spirit week and all those activities and the dance, all that kept going through my head was “Christ, is that gonna be the night my Baby loses her virginity?”  I’m not even sure she still IS a virgin – Dorothea won’t tell me – but I just can’t scrub that idea out of my brain.

Steph has her mother’s intuition.  After my fumbling around and small-talk for awhile she sighed and said “Daddy, don’t worry.  I wouldn’t be dating Brendan if he didn’t treat me with respect.  You can trust him.”  I swear I could hear her smiling through the line.  Then she giggled and reminded me how the saying goes that girls always end up with boys who remind them of their father.  She said Brendan reminds her of me.  GREAT.  That daughter of mine knows how to push the boys’ buttons.  Her Old Man’s included.  That she DEFINITELY got from Dorothea.

6:15 pm

I swear to GOD, I am fucking DONE with the Press.  What the fuck makes these guys think they have the right to know every fucking detail of my life?  Since when does being a celebrity mean airing your dirty laundry and confessing your sins in public?  That stupid fuck from whatever rag he’s from at the Press Call today went too damned far.  I can grin and bite my tongue for most stuff, but that Piece of Fuck was just obnoxious and rude. 

I get it that the Latin press is unusually candid, moreso than just about anywhere in the world.  But there’s a line you don’t cross.  Family is off-limits. And that Fuck didn’t even insinuate—he flat-out called me a liar.  I shouldn’t have taken his bait, but I never thought honesty was a problem.  I told the truth—my wife knows everything about my past and I am totally faithful to her.  Then that motherfucker said she should know better than to trust an “old womanizer” like me!  What the Fuck?  It was all I could do just to tell him he was full of it rather than punch him full-on in the fucking face.  Thank God Rich was able to talk me down before I really put my foot in my mouth.

And now I’m the one who’s gonna get skewered for putting him in his place, though anybody else would have done the same.  What the hell happened to fucking manners?  Civility?  Respect?

Monday, October 4

3:30 pm

Buenos Aires

Gorgeous day today.  Sitting on my balcony with a cold beer, listening to some pretty cool new music.  Obie dropped off a couple demos he and Soraia cut down in Nashville on break.  The song Richie co-wrote with Sue is on there, Black and Blue.  It’s damned good.  Sue is really coming into her own as a songwriter.  She’s always had the stage presence and the voice.  Now it’s just a matter of writing the really good songs and getting a solid band behind her.  She has the talent and the drive, she needs the break. 

Sadly, it’s still harder for women than men to get respect in the rock world, but she’s got a better shot than most.  If they listen to Obie and keep pushing they’ll make it.  It’s cool to watch them grow, kinda like seeing our kids grow up.  Obie is tremendously proud of them.  As he should be.

Had another great show last night. Once I cooled down after that fucking press fiasco and called Cate, I was focused and ready to go.  As usual, had to go out and prove to that reporter Fuck that I’m bigger and better than ever.  (Yes, I acknowledge my ego issues, ha ha). 

Cate reminded me that no matter what that asshole said, every girl and half the guys in the crowd would still give anything to fuck me.  That’s my wife, dirty mind and dirty mouth, ha ha.  Though it’s a little disturbing that she said the guys want to fuck me too.  She has a sick sense of humor.

I went out there determined to just have a good time, and that’s exactly what I did.  The crowd was into it, and there were these gorgeous girls in the front row.  Dark hair, bronze skin, great racks, in the tiniest hot pink bikini tops though it was only about 50 degrees.  Their tits bounced when they danced and their nipples were hard as diamonds all damned night long.  Richie grinned like a fool through the whole set.  I think he even snuck a little video of them with his iPhone. 

In another time and place we would have brought those girls backstage after the show.  You know, just to warm them up, ha ha.   No, it was fun to look, but no touching.  Well, not THEM, anyway.  All touching was purely a solo affair, back in my room with a bottle of wine and pay-per-view.  Christ, I miss my wife.  If she has to stay in Colombia another week I’m gonna fucking explode.  As it is she probably won’t make it through the door at home before I pin her up against the wall and bang her silly.

Not that she’ll mind, I’m sure.

Tuesday, October 5

4:35 pm

Buenos Aires Airport

Waiting for flight to depart for Sao Paulo.  Nice to have an extra day off between shows, good for voice and soul.    Had a peaceful day yesterday, just hanging around the hotel, doing some shopping, a little work, nothing much.  Other than missing Cate.  Called her late last night for a little assistance with my evening “activities” (ha ha).  She told me she will be really busy today and tomorrow and might not be able to call.  Hope she doesn’t go out with local police or something like that.  Trying not to think about it, will just make myself crazy again.  Will just wait for her to call.

Richie and I went out this morning to look at some art for his house in Laguna.  Tico recommended a local artist, called around yesterday to find a gallery that carried his stuff.  Beautiful paintings; vibrant colors, very evocative.  I ended up buying a painting for my office.  Rich bought a few things too. 

Of course we were tailed by the press and fans.  We posed for a few shots before Mike had to peel this one blonde off of me so we could leave.  She kept telling me she wants to have my baby, begging me to make love to her.  I kept telling her I’m married, but she was determined.  Nice ego boost, huh?  Cate will laugh at that. 

After the gallery we went to a jewelry store Abby found the other day.  Bought an absolutely beautiful bracelet for Cate; trying to decide whether to give it to her when she gets home or keep it for Christmas present.  I’ll probably give it to her now—I’m too impatient to wait three whole months to see her reaction.  I love to see her smile. 

Just took a minute to call the office – hard to believe it was four years ago today that the Soul Foundation opened its doors.  We’ve accomplished so much, but there’s much, much more to do.  One of my proudest accomplishments, to be sure. 

Finally taxiing!  Maybe we’ll make it to Brazil before bedtime after all…

Wednesday, October 6

7:25 pm

Sao Paulo

It’s like Groundhog Day.  Backstage again, just ate, stretched, warmed up, did parade of visitors.  Hanging out, waiting for show to start.  Spent day at hotel again, hit the gym, came to venue.  Talked to Kids when they got home from school, Jess asked if we could go to Jets-Vikes game Monday night.  Told him I’ll see what I can do.

Haven’t heard from Cate today.  Tried to call a couple times, but got her vmail.  Guess she’s in classified meetings or something.  Just hope she’s at the Embassy and not out in the city.  Trying not to think about that.  She’ll call me when she can. 

Christ, I need to see her. I said I’m too old to be jacking off in some hotel room, but who am I foolin’?  That’s what it’s come to.  I may be 48 but I still have the libido of a 19-year-old, or so Cate says.  As usual, she’s right.  She makes me feel like a horny teenager.  Difference is now I’m not stupid enough to go scratch that itch with some slutty groupie like I was back in the old days.  There’s no excuse for me to behave like that now.  I’m a grown man, a husband and a father, and that’s who I am, who I like to be.   

And I have one helluva Hot Wife.  I’m a lucky, lucky man. 

Just wish she was here.  Having a constant case of blue balls sucks.   

Did another of the never-ending Press Calls today before the show.  This one went about a thousand times better than Buenos Aires.  Questions were still rote and downright stupid, but the mood was a lot lighter.  I gave ‘em what they wanted, turned on the rock star charm and flirted with that pretty reporter.  Something about the Brazilian women—they’ve always brought out the best in me.   And I’ve been my best in a few of them over the years, ha ha. 

Man, if there are girls in the front row tonight like those three in the bikinis back in Buenos Aires I’m gonna have to tell Richie to do an extra-long intro to his song tonight.  I may have to take care of a little personal business in my quick-change, if ya know what I’m sayin’, Ha ha.    Jesus I need to get laid.

Probably have another date with pay-per-view and my right hand tonight again anyway.  Security is wound up so tight we won’t be able to go anywhere but back to the hotel.  There’s a little nightclub there, but not much else.  We’ll be like fucking animals in the zoo again, up in our little cages for all the groupies to watch. Not like we’re gonna hit the dance floor.  But at least it’s better than sitting in our rooms twiddling our thumbs or ourselves. Maybe give a couple girls a thrill, let ‘em come up and have a drink with the band.  Richie says he’s still looking for contestants for his future reality show, ha ha.  Maybe I’ll help him screen potential candidates.

Alright, ready to rock, Boys.  I’m feelin’ feisty tonight.  Just two more shows then I’m home with my Babies.  Let’s go.

Thursday, October 7

3:45 pm

Sao Paulo

I do believe I’m victim of a Booty Call.  Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

Holy fuck, last night was amazing.  Almost thought I dreamt the whole thing when I woke up this morning, until Cate snuggled a little closer and purred in that sexy little tigress way she has.  She was really here, tangled up in the hotel bed sheets with me, so beautiful and sexy and fantastic.

I’m one Lucky Man.  She knows me so well.  She knew I was worried and lonely and horny, so she came all the way from Bogota on a six-hour flight, on her only day off, just to spend the night with me.  And the way she did it just blew my fucking mind, that hot little Strangers-in-the-Night encounter.  I knew she was good at role-playing – when we worked together in Cali she told me being a cop is a lot like acting, you have to get in role for surveillance, interrogation, etc.  But THIS.  THIS was fucking incredible. 

I could hardly believe my eyes when she came strutting into the club last night.  I was sure I was imagining things, then our eyes met and I could read her mind.  She just smirked, and I could hear her saying “let’s play.”  I wanted to just throw her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs, but when she gave me that look…. FUCK.  I just had to go along for the ride.

And DAMN did she come to play. The flirting at the bar, the key to her suite… those leather pants and stiletto heels.  She looked spectacular.  Every guy in the bar wanted to get into those pants.  Mike laughed his ass off at me in the elevator on the way up to her room.  I could barely fucking stand upright I was so hard.  Richie said all the guys back at the bar busted a gut watching me sprint after her when she left, too.  Richie knew she was there; she texted him her plans so he could be sure to drag me to the bar after the show.  Guess I owe him a thanks for that.

I wanted her so bad I was actually nervous – NERVOUS!—before I opened the door to her suite.  And Sweet Jesus, when I saw her standing there… I must have looked like a fucking idiot, ‘cause I know my jaw hit the floor.  I’ve never seen her look as sexy and gorgeous and alluring as she did standing there in the shadows.  She was every man’s fantasy come to life.  And when she kept up the charade, kept playing… that was one of the most erotic things she’s ever done for me.  I just wish I could have lasted longer that first time, that fan-fucking-tastic romp on that couch.  I had no control whatsoever—it was all her.  I couldn’t help myself.  Talk about an earth-shaking orgasm, that was it.  Surprised I didn’t pass out.

Cate and I have an incredibly satisfying sex life, but last night was off the charts.  I can’t remember the last time we literally made love until the sun came up.  Five times in one night with no little blue pill ain’t bad for an old fuck like me, ha ha.  But it’s all her.  She does it to me.  My beautiful, sexy, incredible wife.

Today we slept in, made love again, had room service breakfast, took a long, steamy shower together, then just sat together on the balcony and held hands and talked.  That’s what I miss most when Cate and I are apart, just being able to share a touch and talk about anything or nothing at all.  I told her everything I was feeling and how much I love and miss her, and I promised again to make time for our honeymoon.  She just smiled and listened, ‘cause she knew that’s what I needed from her. 

I adore my wife.  To wake up holding her this morning was a precious gift.  I know it’s only been a few weeks since we were together, but it’s felt like months.  I don’t know what’s going on with me, in my head, my heart, but I’m not myself right now.  I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself.  But I have absolutely nothing to mope about.  I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.

She’s on her plane now, headed back to Bogota.  She said she has something to do really early tomorrow morning, so she needed to be back tonight to prepare.  I didn’t ask.  I just kissed her and held her and told her I love her and I’ll see her as soon as she gets home.

Our flight for Rio leaves in an hour.  Fantastic, vibrant city full of gorgeous women, but none as beautiful as my Cate.  One more show then homeward bound.  Back to life as Husband and Dad for a little while, with a few business responsibilities in between.  Can’t wait.

Friday, October 8

7:25 pm

Rio de Janiero

Here we go.  One last show, then we’re goin’ home.

Whirlwind trip to Brazil—two shows, two cities, three days.  Fine by me, and by the security guys.  They were unusually edgy in Sao Paulo, and I heard earlier today there is gear and some personal stuff missing from some of the crew’s cases. This hasn’t been the most relaxed trip. 

When Dean and I went out for a run today I felt like I had fucking Secret Service tailing me.   Three of our security guys, one in front two in back.  And those were just the ones I knew about.  I kept thinking that was why Obama never jogs in DC.  Takes an entire damned entourage.  But I bet he doesn’t get chased by girls in bikinis, ha ha.   Those photos have already hit the wires.  Pretty damned funny.  “Hey folks, it’s great to be a rock star!” 

Why can’t I get chased by the swimsuit models?

I’m so ready to get home, back to peace and stability.  Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.  Better yet, can’t wait to make love to my wife in OUR bed.  Have a couple days off before heading south for the Gulf show.  Then it’s GH blitz time.  But at least I get to come home every night for awhile.

First I got a show to do.  One more time, with feeling….

Saturday, October 9

10:55 am

Northbound at 35,000 feet

Headed home to my babies. 

Everybody’s racked out, exhausted and relieved to be leaving South America.  I don’t think any of us really realized how tense we were with all the security shit until we went wheels up an hour ago.  It was like everybody let out this big collective sigh of relief.  Then everybody kicked off their shoes, tipped back their seats, and fell asleep.  Davey’s snoring like a buzz saw and Matty’s sacked out on the floor.  I’m not gonna be far behind them.

Talked to Cate before we left the hotel.  I could hear the relief in her voice that we were leaving Brazil.  As much as I worry about her, I forget that she worries just as much about me.  It must be hard for her—she knows so much more of the ugly reality than I do.  But she doesn’t have to worry as much now, we’ll be back on American soil tonight.  When she gets home she’s taking the rest of the week off and coming to the Gulf show with me.  No more lonely hotel rooms for either of us for awhile.

Tomorrow I’ll spend the day with the Kids.  Got tickets to Monday night Jets game at the New Stadium for me and Jesse. Then Tuesday she’ll be home.  We’re gonna curl up in front of that fireplace and open that bottle of Argentinian red wine and just hold each other and catch up on what we’ve missed.  Pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist for awhile.  Just us.

Homeward bound.