Friday, December 31

6:45 pm
My Office

New Year's Eve.  In a couple hours it will be 2011.  2010 is all but done.

It's been one helluva year.  Toured the world for the umpteenth time, had some great experiences, some not-so-great.  I look back on how many shows we did and how many places we played and shake my head.  And we ain't done yet -- still more than half of the New Year to go.

As much as I love my job, all the fame and fortune and daily grind don't mean shit.  But I AM damned proud that we created some great new music and the fans embraced it.  I'm also proud that we're still going strong, still sharing our love of art and music and our friendship.  Without my Brothers 2010 would have been just killing time.

Regrets? I've had a few, but then again, to few to mention.... ha ha.  Sorry Frank.  My only regret for 2010 was that I was away from my family too much, once again.  My Baby Girl is almost grown up, she'll be finishing High School in this New Year.  Jess is a young man, Jakey and Romey aren't my cute cuddly little boys anymore.  No more babies in my family; now they're all well on their way to not needing their Old Man anymore.  That makes me sad.

But 2010 was A Very Good Year (again, sorry Frank).  My Cate married me, despite the fact we had no time for a fancy ceremony or a honeymoon.  There we were, sitting on that gorgeous beach in Hawaii, watching that sunset, and we both knew it was time.  By the next sunset we were husband and wife.  Then it was back to the circus -- the tour for me and work for her.   But in 2011 I'm gonna give her the honeymoon she deserves.  That's my New Year's Resolution.  That and to love her more and more each day, and to do my damndest to make her proud to be my wife.

Speaking of my lovely wife, she's calling.  She's finally ready to go.  We're heading out to ring in the New Year at Count Basie with John and the Jukes.  Don't think I'll be a stunt-Juke tonight.  Just wanna snuggle up with my Best Gal and dance the night away, ring out 2010 the best way I can think of.  In her arms.

Wednesday, December 29

8:30 pm
My Office

Christ, I'm getting old.  The boys have been running me ragged the last couple days!  Jake and Romey are completely giddy from the snow, I think.  Snow Fever.

We got a total of 19 inches -- enough to throw the entire state into chaos.  Good thing we didn't have to go anywhere, 'cause we weren't getting out of our driveway.  We would have had to snowshoe our way to town, which would have been just fine with the boys.  Think we've done every other damned snow-related activity--snowball fights, snowman-building, snowfort-building, sledding, even some improvised snowboarding.  I swear we spent more time outdoors than indoors.

Gotta give props to my wife.  She builds one helluva snow fort.  Probably all that military training, ha ha.  The fort she and Romey built was like a damned castle.  She even had ports to "fire" snowballs out of.  Needless to say she creamed my ass in the snowball fight.

But she's also damned good at warming me up.  In fact, I think I feel a draft.... Brrrrrr!

Heh heh.  Oh Wifey....

Monday, December 27

9:30 am
My Office

I love snow days.

: )

Saturday, December 25

Christmas, Almost Midnight
My Office

Sitting here watching the snow come down.  I love being snowed in.  Good thing, since from the sounds of things we're gonna get a couple feet.

Today was great.  Woke up to the usual Christmas mayhem, the kids tearing down the stairs to the tree to see what Santa brought.  Well, Romey at least.  Steph and Jess are way past that and I think Jakey knows the Big Secret, but they all played along for Romeo's sake.  Of course none of us got a wink of sleep past about 6 am once Romey was up, since he came pounding on everybody's doors to alert us to Santa's visit.

It was great having everybody here; Mom and Dad, the kids, Dorothea.  I was kinda worried about how Cate would feel about having Dorothea stay over and be here for Christmas morning.  She said she was fine with it, and she seemed to be.  I guess it is a little weird, considering how many Christmases D and I came down those stairs together as husband and wife to watch our kids open presents.  Now she's a guest here.  It was probably a little strange for her too, now that I'm remarried.

I gotta hand it to Dorothea, though -- she's a class act.  Whatever happened between her and Cate while I was gone seems to have passed.  They're not BFFs, but they do seem to respect and understand each other.  But I know Dorothea, and I could tell from the gift she gave Cate she's still feeling a little guilty.  It was beautiful and meaningful, and a wonderful gesture to my new wife.  As far as that goes, her gift to me was as well.

A couple years back D and the kids gave me that necklace with all the charms on it; one from her, one from each of the kids.  This year her gift to me was simple; a new charm to add to the necklace.  One with Cate's name on it.  I seriously choked up when I opened the box and saw it, and when Dorothea just smiled and said  now my whole family will be with me when I wear that necklace, those charms against my heart.  Only D can truly understand how much that means to me, that she considers Cate to be more than just the woman I married after her.  That she acknowledges Cate as an important part of my kids' life.

She got Cate pretty good too.  I saw my wife blinking back tears when she opened the charm bracelet, with all the little silver charms that are miniatures of mine, a big one for me and a small one for each of the kids.  It's just like the one Dorothea has, that she had made for herself when she made my necklace.  The look Cate gave me says it all -- she's humbled and a little overwhelmed by Dorothea's acceptance.

These women in my life -- these strong, independent, amazing women.  I'm so thankful for them every day, even when they're driving me crazy.  They're the only thing that keep me going sometimes, their love and support.  Dorothea saved me more times than I can count, back when things were slipping away from me.  And now Cate -- she saved me in ways she can't even understand.  She calls me her Superman, but she's the one who has rescued me over and over again.

The snow is beautiful -- big, huge wet flakes drifting down from the Heavens.  I guess in a few hours it will be a full-on blizzard, but right now it's pretty and Christmas-y.  Cate and the boys are in the family room watching a movie, with a fire going in the big fireplace.  Guess I should go join them.   Steph wanted to go with Dorothea to see her other Grandparents, and Mom & Dad headed over to Matty's, so it's just the five of us.

Me, my wife and my boys, gonna be snowed in together tomorrow.  Nowhere to go, nobody to visit, no calls, no schedules.  Just drinking hot chocolate and watching movies and playing games and being lazy.  Sounds pretty damned good to me.

Friday, December 24

5:45 pm
Christmas Eve
Jersey House

The Big Night is upon us--time for the annual Christmas Eve Shindig!  We've been having this party at my house since I don't know when--sometime not long after I bought my first house, over in Rumson.  Of course it's a lot bigger now than it was then, and a lot tamer, ha ha.  Now it's family and close friends.  But still a lot of people.

Cate and I drove out here early this morning.  Actually, we didn't even go to bed last night.  We were both wide awake when we got back to the apartment, so we decided to just pack up and come on out, get the holiday started.  Needless to say we both needed a nap by about 9 am, ha ha.  So that's just what we did.  Went to bed at 9, slept until about 2, then got up and started getting ready for the party.

Last night was fantastic.  Cate absolutely loved the gift I got her.  I was pretty sure she would, and I knew I would, but you can never be 100% sure with women.  Just when you think you have 'em figured out -- BAM!  They smack you right between the eyes with some crazy twist of personality that reminds you you don't know shit about women.  But this time I was right.  I spent most of this morning patting myself on the back for my Super-Awesome idea.

The best part about our evening was seeing Cate smile, watching her eyes sparkle and swirl as she tried on all those great clothes, and then as she dressed me up.  And of course holding her, kissing her, making love to her right there in KC was spectacular.  She always teases me about trying to top our exploits by dreaming up some new erotic adventure in an unexpected place.  I'd say this one's gonna be pretty hard to beat.  But I'm damned sure not gonna stop trying. 

When we arrived here this morning Cate gave me her present.  She said she was going to wait until tomorrow when we had a moment alone, but with all the family and kids running around she was afraid we wouldn't get that chance.  And her gift was definitely something private and personal and beautiful. 

Those couple photos she sent me in Australia were teasers for her gift.  Those hot, sorta-naked ones.  Well, this morning in our bedroom Cate pulled me over to sit on the bed and laid this pretty little package on my lap.  It was small and flat and obviously a book.  But Holy Christ, WHAT a fucking book!  

My sneaky, sexy wife pulled a fast one on me.  Back in November when I was out in Camden for the day doing some stuff for the Foundation she had a photog come into our apartment and shoot some portraits of her.  Not just any photos, mind you -- boudoir shots.  Stunningly, maddeningly, cock-teasingly beautiful boudoir shots. In our bedroom.

Apparently she asked Dave to recommend someone, and set up the session with this very well-respected fashion photog.  They had a full studio set up in our bedroom, and I guess the session took a couple hours.  Cate said the shoot started with her clothed -- in that sexy-as-Hell sparkly halter and fuck-me leather pants she bought in Colombia, no less -- and ended up with her completely nude.  She said she was pretty nervous at first but by the time she had to strip she was at ease, the photog was that good.  Thank God it was a woman, ha ha.  Don't really like the idea of some guy taking nakey-pics of my wife. 

The photos are absolutely stunning -- especially the ones with my guitars.  There are a couple dozen of her with my Tak and my red electric "Canditar" as she likes to call it.  She's in varying states of dress in those shots, and in a few she's not wearing a stitch of clothing, she's just wrapped around my Tak and caressing it like it's her lover.  Those shots are so erotic and beautiful I could hardly take my eyes off them. 

The final result was gorgeous book of photos, and of course the negatives and proofs.  And she loaded up all the digital images into an album for my iPhone, passworded and encrypted, of course, ha ha.  That way I can take them with me wherever I go, stare at them whenever I want.  That may be a blessing and a curse when I'm back on the road.  Sometimes just looking at "normal" photos of her is about all I can handle when I miss her so much.

I'm also supposed to pick out my favorite to have printed and framed to hang somewhere in the apartment.  I guess where it will hang depends on the degree of nudity, ha ha.  Can't very well have my wife's tits on display in the entryway.  That would take some explaining, especially to Jake and Romey!  Think I'm gonna have one of her in that sexy outfit printed for my quick-change, too.  Frankie could use some company in there, ha ha.    And that book is definitely gonna be in my nightstand drawer for a long, long time.

My wife is fantastic.  What a perfect gift.  Of course I had to thank her appropriately. :)

So that's pretty much how the day went -- hot sex at KC, go home, drive to the big house, hot sex in Jersey, nap, party prep, greet Dorothea and the kids and Mom and Dad and the rest of the fam, and now I'm hiding out in my walk-in closet allegedly trying to find something to wear but actually grabbing a minute to write down what I'm feeling before the party gets rockin' and I get swept up in the yuletide cheer.

I'm the luckiest Bastard in the world.  All the hard times, all the long days and nights and things I think are awful and shitty that wear me down... none of it matters.  I'm happy and healthy and wealthy and maybe even a little bit wise.  I have a wife who loves me unconditionally, kids who adore me, an ex-wife who is still one of my best friends, a family who supports me, and the best Best Friends on the planet.  I don't know what I did to deserve all this good fortune, but I should be kicked in the ass every time I whine about something.  I'm sending up that prayer of thanks tonight for sure, more than any other night, because we're all together again, Home for the Holidays.

Merry Christmas, Baby.

Thursday, December 23

9:00 pm
Home

Just a couple hours to go until I get to surprise Cate.  I've been looking forward to this all damned day.  Been driving her crazy, reminding her tonight's the big night and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.  At one point she threatened to interrogate me if I didn't shut up and stop taunting her, ha ha.

She's in the shower now, getting ready for the evening.  Told her to dress casual, be comfortable.  She's not gonna be in those clothes for long anyway, no sense in her getting all dressed up fancy.

Today flew by.  Probably because I was asleep for a good part of it.  Starting to get my body back into the right time zone, but still pretty tired.  I told Cate to be sure I was up by noon, so that's when she woke me up.  Noon on the dot.  Unfortunately for me all she did was give me a kiss and shake my shoulder and say "rise and shine."  Yesterday's wakeup call was much more fun.

The benefit last night was fantastic.  We got to the store around 7:00, made the rounds, had a couple drinks and some nosh.  The Vets and families arrived at 8:30, after their show let out.  Absolutely amazing people.  I was humbled to be in their presence, not just the soldiers who survived some truly horrific injuries (including a female soldier who lost a leg, an arm, and an eye), but their families as well.  Every day for them is a new battle, a struggle to find a new normal in their lives.

Hearing their stories made what I do for a living seem so petty and small.  But Cate reminded me that my music brings hope and good memories to so many people, and that is my contribution to making this world a better place.  Reason 1,543,678 why I love my wife so much--she has a way of putting everything in perspective and making me feel like I matter.  She also kicks my ass when I skew that perspective to convince myself I'm more important than I really am, ha ha.

The set went well; the reaction was so rewarding.  Did Superman, Prayer, Here Comes the Sun, I Wish Everyday Could Be Like Christmas, Keep the Faith, Wanted, and Welcome to Wherever You Are.  Was only gonna do 4 songs, but the guys and gals kept egging me on so I kept playing.  Welcome was Cate's suggestion, and it was perfect.  I thought I sounded pretty raw, but apparently it was fine to the audience so I'm not gonna worry about it.  One of the best sets I've done in a long time, in terms of heart and emotion.

It was so fun watching Cate at the benefit last night.  Normally she's pretty quiet and subdued when we do the parties and press things and red carpets.  But last night she was all smiles, making the rounds and talking to everybody.  I also caught her ogling the shoes and bags in the display, ha ha.  She may not like to shop but she does have a weak spot for pretty shoes, like most women.  She was definitely in her element.

I better get ready to go myself.  Got the first part of the present all ready to go; can't wait to see Cate's reaction to the photos.  After all the shit I put up with from Matt and the guys, she'd damned well better like them!  Ha ha.  I'm sure she will.

I think I'm more excited than she is.  After all, I stand to benefit from this too.  The gift that keeps on giving, ha ha.

Merry Christmas to Me.

Wednesday, December 22

2:15 pm
Office

I feel like Hell.

Slept for 14 hours, Cate finally woke me up about 45 minutes ago.  She tried to soften the blow with... well... another blow, ha ha.  She knew I'd feel like I was hit by a Mack truck so she tried to be a little extra-special kind and attentive.  It was great, but now that the sex-endorphins have worn off I feel like I've been dragged to the depths of Hell.

Sipping tea and trying to figure out a short setlist for tonight.  Just me and the Tak, no band to blame my fuck-ups on, ha ha.  I'm gonna sound like shit, but I have to play. I promised I would.  I'll give it my best shot but there are a few songs there's just no way I'll be able to sing.  No Hallelujah tonight.

No Who Says either if Cate has her way.  She says she loves me more than anything in the world and is proud I won a Grammy for it, but not to ever sing that song to her again.  So I do it just to aggravate her, ha ha.

Superman's a given, for Cate and for the Vets.  And I have to do Prayer, that's expected.  That's two -- what else?  Maybe a Christmas tune.  Rudolph won't work, Please Come Home is too depressing.... maybe I Wish Everyday?  That's kinda optimistic and uplifting.  That's the mood I want this to be.

Hell, why not just Jingle Bells?  Ha ha.

Think I'll let Cate pick the last song.

Christ, I better drag my ass to the workout room and see if I can jump-start myself.  It's gonna be a long damned night if I can't.

Tuesday, December 21

6:20 am
Home

Sitting in my kitchen, waiting for coffee to brew.  The silence is wonderful.  Still dark outside but I can see the hint of snow on the terrace.  As nice as the sun was in Australia, I missed this.  Christmas in the City.  Can't wait to go out later today and see my kids.  Maybe we'll go do something Christmasy.

In a few minutes I'm gonna start making breakfast for Cate, give her breakfast in bed my first morning back.  Then I'm gonna make love to her again.  Breakfast in bed of another sorts, ha ha.

God it's good to be home.

It was midnight when I finally stumbled in the door.  Flight from L.A. was uneventful but we got held up on approach at Newark.  Circled for almost a damned hour.  Then by the time we landed, deplaned, got our shit, said Happy Holidays, and got our cars, it was after eleven.  I told my driver to get me here as fast as he damned could.  He did.

Walked in the door and Cate was waiting for me.  Under the mistletoe.  She hung some in the entry, just for the occasion.  She looked so damned beautiful standing there smiling at me, her hair all shiny and her eyes swirling three shades of blue like they do when she's happy.  I just stared at her for a minute before I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her for all I was worth.

I swear we must have stood there liplocked for a good fifteen minutes, just holding each other and reveling in the reunion.  I didn't even mind a damned bit that she was wearing her Eagles Jersey just to mock me, ha ha.  Besides, that's ALL she was wearing, so it was all good.  My wife makes a football jersey look better than anybody else on the planet.  Any jersey.

She had a bottle of wine open and a fire going and Sinatra on the stereo.  I left all my shit at the door and followed her over to the living room and snuggled up with her on the couch.  It felt so damned good -- it's what I missed most, just holding Cate and talking to her and feeling her heart beat against my chest.  Our sex life is fantastic, but it's our love life that keeps me going.

But hey, I'm a guy -- I have needs.  Ha ha.  So does my wife.  So we didn't snuggle for long before we were both naked on the rug in front of the fire, enjoying each other.  It was pure bliss, making love to Cate again after a LONG month apart.  So nice we did it twice, ha ha.

Finally we made it into the bedroom and I just curled up with her and held her while she slept.  I'm still on Aussie time so of course I was wide a-damned-wake, but that was fine.  I wasn't about to move, I was right where I wanted to be.  I actually dozed a little, but not for long.  Laid there with her until about an hour ago when I finally got up and left her snuggled under the sheets.

Watched the news, dragged my bags into the laundry room and put my guitar in the office, got the paper, made some plans for today.  I'm gonna crash in a few hours I'm sure, but I gotta make myself stay awake as long as I can so I might be able to sleep tonight.  We have the Vets thing tomorrow night so I gotta get myself right-side-up as soon as I can.  It's gonna take a few days but I'm fucking determined to be right by Christmas.

And I can't wait until Thursday, when I give Cate her present.  It's gonna rock her world.

Coffee's done, time to go wake up my Sleeping Beauty.  Breakfast can wait.

10:45 pm
Bed

Christ, I'm tired.  Forced myself to stay up all day so I can try to sleep tonight.  Problem is my body's wiped out but my brain won't shut down.  Damned jetlag.

So now I'm lying here in bed, trying to force myself to go to sleep, which obviously ain't working because I'm writing in my book instead.  Cate's out in the living room watching a movie with Jess and Steph, so I can't even amuse myself with her.  Dammit.

Had a great day today.  Once Cate and I finally made it out of bed and got dressed we went to get the kids at Dorothea's place.  Took them out for lunch, a little shopping, ice skating at the Rock.  Well, kids and Cate skated, I didn't.  I stood at the side of the rink pouring coffee down my gullet and freezing my ass off because my blood thinned out in the Aussie summer heat.  But there was nowhere I'd rather be than there watching them.

Wasn't really bothered much by fans either, just a couple here and there.  That's one of the great things about New York, I don't really get bothered.  Celebs are a dime a dozen around here.  Usually when I get approached it's by a tourist.  It also probably didn't hurt that I was "disguised" in a ski cap and had my scarf up to the tip of my nose, ha ha.  Looked like I was ready for an expedition to Antarctica.  One of the few places we haven't -- and WON'T -- play.

After the day out we went back to D's and the kids begged to spend the night at our place.  I really wanted them to but hesitated because I wasn't sure about Cate, or Dorothea for that matter.  Still haven't really talked to either of them about what happened a few weeks back but I sensed a little discomfort between them when the kids were clamoring to come home with Cate and me.  Cate immediately said they were welcome, and Dorothea didn't make a fuss.  That's one of many reasons I love my wife -- she really makes an effort to be involved with the kids, though I know she feels like an outsider sometimes.   I don't thank her enough for that.

So Steph and the boys came back here, we ordered pizza and played video games, then I put Jake and Romeo to bed.  That was the highlight of my day, reading to Jakey and just laying there in the dark with them, talking about their school and Santa Claus and and what Romey wants to name the pet ferret he has his heart set on.  I may have to talk to Cate about getting him one and keeping it here since D has a firm "no rodents" rule at her house.  How can I possibly let that little guy down?

I'm a complete pushover as Santa Claus.  Obviously.  Good thing I don't have to be Hannukah Harry too, ha ha.

Once I got the boys settled in I went and collapsed on the couch with Cate and watched about 20 minutes of whatever God-awful movie it is they're watching, and started to nod off.  Cate told me to go to bed, so not being one to disobey my wife, I did.

And now I can't sleep.

I need her to come to bed too, so she can snuggle up on my chest and I can drift off holding her.  I always sleep better when she's in my arms.  She's my security blanket.  She actually likes it when I spoon up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, but I don't sleep so well then.  Too convenient a position, ha ha.  Hard to sleep when Superman wants to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Well, CRAP.  Guess I better turn out the light and at least try to doze off.  We have a lot going on tomorrow, last-minute Christmas shopping and the Vets benefit.  I'm gonna be miserable when I wake up -- I always am on jetlag Day Two.  Nothing I can do but push through it.

It's good to be home.

Monday, December 20

Midnight Jersey time
No clue what time zone I'm in
In The Air

I'll be home for Christmas.....

Finally headed home after what seems like a year.  We were only gone a month, and it was a great leg, but feels like a lot longer.  Lots I missed back home.  Lots to catch up on.

That stand in Sydney was as good as it gets.  Was like it used to be in the old days, only this time we savored it. Who knows how much longer we're gonna get to do this for a living?  Gotta take time to smell the roses, ha ha.

If Night 2 was fantastic, last night was otherworldly.  All the stars and planets aligned, and it was just magic.  Even Mother Nature got in on the party.  I couldn't have scripted that, when the Heavens opened up in the middle of Hallelujah.  Just fucking magic.  I could hardly believe it.

We were just in another universe last night, the crowd and the band, as one.  It was like The Rapture.  Phenomenal.

I really, truly love my job.

Took quite awhile to come down.  Think I still have the grin on my face, even woke up from my nap smiling.  Still too restless to really sleep, even though I'm tired.  Too excited to get home to my family, to celebrate being together for the holidays.

Talked to Cate a couple times in the past few hours.  She's as excited for me to get home as I am to get there.  Sucks it takes a full day of traveling to actually make it there, and then I'll be loopy for a few days.

Couldn't help myself--had to call and wake her up after the show, to tell her about it.  It was 6:00 am on a Sunday, but she didn't mind.  I loved hearing that dusky, sleepy voice of hers, saying "Baby, that's so great.  You should be proud."  I was proud.  Damned proud.  And I love that I could share it with her, even if only by phone.

Talked to her again later in the day.  And what a surprise she had for me -- before she called, Cate texted me a picture of her with Jess, at Giants Stadium!  Her boss gave her a pair of tickets to the Eagles-Giants game at the last minute, and she asked Dorothea if she could take Jess.  My heart about burst when she told me that -- my wife and my son, sharing time together, doing something they both love.  They had good seats, and Jess had the biggest grin on his face.  They looked like they were having a blast.

Only problem with that picture is that my beautiful wife was wearing Eagles green, LOL.  And good Christ, after the way that game went I'll NEVER hear the end of it when I get home.  She's already gloating, by phone and by text.  But that's fine with me--everybody has their flaws, ha ha.  I saw the highlights and we can watch the game later during the flight, but not sure I want to.  Ouch.  Then again, how can I call myself a fan and not watch "The Miracle in New Meadowlands?"  I'll just have a couple drinks before the really painful part, ha ha.

Less than a day, I'm back where I belong.

Fly faster, Damnit.

3:30 pm Jersey Time
Somewhere over the Water

I'm ready to get the fuck OFF this PLANE!!!

Jesus, this is a LONG damned trip.  Every time we make it I remember how much it sucks.  I'm sick of being cooped up in a metal tube with wings.  No matter how comfortable it may be, a plane is a plane is a damned plane.  And being on one for 16 damned hours is a LONG fucking time.

Can only watch so many movies or play so many hands of poker or do so much paperwork or take so many naps.  I want to be home.  NOW.

Fuck.  Another hour plus until we hit the West Coast.  The second they open those damned doors I'm off this plane like a shot.  I need some fresh air, Dammit.  Need to stretch my legs, breathe the L.A. smog, ha ha.  Fifteen minutes, then I'll be good to go.  Drop Richie off, refuel, get cleared, then head for Jersey.  Should be home by bedtime.  Sleeping in my own bed tonight, or whenever the Hell I actually sleep.

Don't think there will be much sleeping going on once I hit the door.  Heh heh.

Look out, Baby, here I come.

Sunday, December 19

3:30 am
My room

Can't sleep.  Still wired from the show and the afterparty.

DAMN we were good tonight!  That was one fucking FUN show.  The crowd was just nuts.  I didn't want to stop playing... could have gone on all night.  But I have to save a little something for the last show, ha ha.  A few more rabbits to pull out of hats.

This is the part of touring I love.  When you step on that stage and feel the electricity and know it's gonna be one of those nights.  When you give it all to the audience and they give it right back.  Like Richie says, it's as good as having sex with 50,000 people at once.  A giant musical orgy.  Seriously, it's the closest high to orgasm I can think of.

And it don't get me in trouble with the wife, ha ha.

Had some fun with this setlist.  Yesterday at the Q&A thing I got the usual "why don't you play X song" questions and the semi-whining about always getting similar setlists.  Hopefully tonight's show made some of those FanClubbers happy.  I get that they want to hear the rare stuff, but there's only so much I can do on a world tour, especially one that's gone on this long and ain't slowing down anytime soon.  It was fun for us to dust off a couple of those songs we haven't played in awhile, too.

Sometimes all the pissing and moaning about setlists chaps my ass.  It ain't easy to come up with a show that keeps the audience engaged, covers all the hits they want and the new stuff you're promoting, and gives the die-hards what they want.  In fact, it's damned impossible.  There's always going to be somebody who's not happy.  Somebody who doesn't get to hear "their song."  Fuck, when you have a catalog as big as ours there's just no way to include everything.

It ain't like the old days, when we had two records and about 20 songs and a handful of covers to choose from.  Back when we did 75-minute setlists, if that.   But even then we changed things up -- the order of the songs, the solos and intros, the covers.  Even as an opening act.  We've always tried to keep ourselves entertained and challenged, even back in the days when we were a bar band.  I couldn't go out and do the exact same show night after night like some (a lot) of bands do.  I'd want to bash my head into a wall.

But you gotta give the crowd what they want, and what they want are Prayer, Wanted, My Life, Bad Name, yadda yadda yadda.  Especially when we're in the States, a different city almost every night.  I never play the same show twice in a row in the same city, but when we're really moving between the smaller venues we have to play the A-show over and over with only a few little tweaks.  Then the fans who follow us from city to city get pissy that they get the same show three times in a row.  Nothing I can do about that -- I can't cater to a hundred when there are thousands in the stands.  But inevitably those are the questions and complaints I get during the Fan Club stuff.  I try to be nice and gracious and I try to give them what I can, but there's only so much I can do.

That said, the Q&A thing yesterday was actually fun.  Sometimes I dread those things, not because I don't want to interact with the fans or let them know I appreciate them, but because sometimes I'm just fucking TIRED.  The drudgery of the tour gets to me, and I'm not the best at hiding my impatience.  Just ask my wife.  As she says, so much for all those acting lessons I paid for, ha ha.  But yesterday's group was good, it was relaxed, maybe because I was in a good mood to begin with.  It's Christmas, after all!  Ha ha.

Was feeling the Christmas spirit at the show tonight too, even though it's summertime here.  Talked to Cate after soundcheck, she said it was cold and flurrying in NYC.  Made me wanna sing Christmas carols.  I will say it just doesn't seem like Christmas when I'm hanging out in shorts and flip-flops on the balcony of my suite.  Christmas should be cold and snowy outside, and warm and cozy inside.

Cate hates the cold--so do I-- but I love to see her all bundled up, looking all snuggly in her scarf and mittens with her pretty pink cheeks and her sparkly blue eyes.  Makes me wanna wrap her up in my arms and pull her in tight and make her all warm and tingly.  God knows she makes ME all warm and tingly, ha ha.

Tomorrow I'll be on the plane, back on my way home to her.  God, I can't WAIT.  Down to a matter of hours now.  I'm already packed, so excited to go home.

Better enjoy this last bit of warm weather, though.  It ain't gonna be like this in Pittsburgh come the start-up of the next leg, ha ha.  But I'll have My Baby to keep me warm.

Saturday, December 18

9:45 am
On my Balcony

Good morning, Australia!  Two more days here in this fabulous country, then I get to LEAVE, ha ha.  Can't wait.

Once they let me out of my hotel room cell yesterday things got better.  Though hotel security fucked up royally they did a damned good job of keeping the whole fiasco quiet and kissing my ass the rest of the day, ha ha.  I practically have a damned Secret Service detail now, tailing me everywhere.  Nobody's gonna touch a hair on my head unless I want them too.  Good thing we won't have time for another Spearmint Rhino excursion, ha ha.

Called Cate after soundcheck, as I expected she chewed my ass for wandering off by myself.  But I could hear the worry in her voice as she gave me the full interrogation about "The Incident" as she's calling it.  That actually made me feel better than anything:  not that I worried her, but that somebody loves me enough to care about ME,  if I was okay.  Not whether what happened will impact my ability to perform, will show in the press photos, will cause a hiccup in the tour machine, will lead to a fucking lawsuit.  My wife doesn't give a shit about all that any more than I do.  She just wants me to be safe and happy and healthy.  Same as I want for her.

It's things like this that make me realize our worlds aren't so different after all.  Cate's in law enforcement and I'm in entertainment, we move in entirely different circles and have entirely different experiences, but it all comes down to this:  I love you, be safe, come home.

Soon, Baby.

So after she finished giving me the what-for we talked a little about next week.  She's been on the phone with Maria a couple more times about the Vets benefit, which she is really excited about.  Cate and Dorothea also had another conversation about the kids and Christmas plans, and all that.  Apparently that went pretty well, though Cate still didn't tell me what the deal was with D not letting Steph go shopping last weekend.

Cate did say Dorothea asked if she'd be interested in helping with some project for Jake and Romeo's school, a fundraiser or something.  I have no idea how or when Cate will find the time, but she agreed.  I hope she doesn't feel obligated or D didn't guilt her into it.  I guess we'll talk about it and the Steph fiasco and the whole family thing when I get home.

Told Cate not to make any plans for Thursday night; that's going to be OUR night.  It's the night I'm giving her my super-awesome Christmas present, though she doesn't know that.  Gonna do it up right.  Oprah-Big, ha ha.  Can't wait to see the look on her face.  After she's done laughing at me, that is.

Speaking of which, the jokes are still flying about my little photo shoot with Matty.  I get to soundcheck yesterday and Sambora and Bryan are just full of musical smartassed-ness.  Instead of checking stuff we were gonna play in the show, they're going off on "I'm too sexy for my pants" and "Pretty fly for a white guy" and Madonna's "Vogue" and shit like that.  I'll never admit it to their faces, but it was actually pretty funny.  Thank God I only have to put up with it for two more shows.  And on the entire plane ride home, I'm sure.

Smartasses.

But no worries, no worries.  It's a beautiful day, counting down the hours.  Gonna talk to My Girl, call my kids when they get home from school, take a run, have a great show tonight, then get up and do it all over again tomorrow.  Then I'm gonna pack my shit and head back where I belong.

Home for Christmas.

Friday, December 17

10:00 am
Sydney

Show Day!  #1 of 3.  One weekend, then I'm on the plane, homeward bound.  My heart beats faster just thinking about it.  A few more days and I'll be holding My Girl again.

Woke up this morning to an email from Maria, wanting to confirm I'll do a few songs for the Vets benefit thing.  Fired back my "of course."  That will be a fun night.  Get my wife all dolled up and take her out on the town, for a good cause.

Yesterday I got most of the details for Cate's present nailed down too.  Turns out Matty actually DID email those pics to Obie after he and Richie pulled their shit.  Obie's gonna take care of printing and cutting them down, and he'll get them to me before the appointed hour.  Had another email from him too, whining about how every time I try to make some grand gesture to get in Cate's pants he gets dragged into helping, ha ha.  Guess he does have a point -- he facilitated my first planned seduction, when I was with Cate in Georgia.  He'll never let me live that down, either.

And I've seduced her LOTS of times without his help.  Arrogant Bastard.  Of course it's a little easier now that she married me, ha ha.  Still fun to plan though, and to see her response.  One thing we definitely don't have a problem with is keeping our romance fresh.  Absence sucks, but it definitely does make the heart grow fonder.

When I talked to Cate last night I told her I had her gift figured out.  She giggled when I told her it's something special, and if it all goes well it will be good for me too, ha ha.  Of course she subtly tried to get me to drop a few hints, but I wasn't biting.  Actually, I told her "You know that three-way you always wanted?  Kief's gonna be in town and he's totally into it."  She laughed at that.

Come to think of it, she didn't discourage that idea, either....

She loved the necklace, too.  She's gonna wear it to the KC benefit.  I could hear the smile in her voice when she thanked me.  Apparently I done good with that one.

Ah well.  Now I just gotta keep busy until I can get on the jet.  Shouldn't be hard, lots to do.  Three shows in a row is gonna be a little hard on the pipes, but if I can keep my energy up it will all be good.

Off to the gym.  Gotta keep this saggy old ass in shape.

1:45 pm
My New Room, Lockdown

Jesus Fucking Christ.  Some chicks are fucking WACKOS.

Not that that's any big surprise, but Goddammit we pay good fucking money to stay at these places where they allegedly protect our privacy and security.  You'd think they could keep the NutCases at bay.  Whatever happened to fucking four-star security?

Went out for a run with Dean, came back and hit the hotel gym for a little weight training.  As usual, had Big Mike go check it out first to be sure there weren't a gaggle of groupies in there.  There were a few chicks hanging about, obviously not working out, so he called hotel security and had them shooed away before we went in.

Did my upper body workout, some stretching, then jumped in the elevator and headed for my room.  Was an express elevator to our floor, so I didn't think twice about going without Mike.  He needed to check in with hotel security office so I told him just to do it instead of coming upstairs with me then having to go back down.

Cate would kick my ass if she knew I did that.  Then she'd kick Mike's ass for letting me.

I get to my floor, stroll off the elevator, turn the corner for my room.  I was still sweating from my workout so I wiped my face with my towel as I was wandering to my door.  Next thing I know somebody's practically fucking tackling me.  I hear shrieking and feel arms around me and stagger back against the wall before I can get the damned towel away from my face.

I'm so fucking stunned it takes me a minute to realize what the hell is going on.  But then there's a tongue being shoved down my throat and a hand grabbing at my crotch and I figure it out pretty damned fast.  Somehow a pair of fucking Nutso Chicks got onto our floor.  They musta hid somewhere because nobody saw them hanging out in the halls.  Probably behind the damned potted palm tree in the corner or some shit.

Anyway, I do what I'm supposed to, I yell my head off.  I shove the chick who's got a liplock on me away, maybe a little too hard.  She stumbles into the wall on the other side of the hall and falls down, then starts crying and sobbing "Please, Jon!  I love you!".

Her friend is a little more subtle, but now that Thing One's out of the way Thing Two's slithering up against me, declaring she's gonna give me the wildest fuck of my life.  I yank her hands off me and try to get her away, and she just laughs and unzips her top.  Like her showing me her damned plastic tits is gonna change my mind.  Jesus.

Ryan hears me yelling and cussing and comes to my rescue.  He pries the one chick off me, the other chick is still sobbing on the floor, and he tells her if she gets up he's gonna smack the shit outta her.  Great.  Just waiting for the lawsuit for emotional distress from that one, how my bodyguard made her fear for her life.

Davey was working in his suite and also heard the ruckus, so he called security before coming out to get in on the action.  He ends up standing watch over the bimbo on the floor.  In about two minutes Mike and four other dudes show up in the elevator and take over.

Mike drags me down to the other end of the hall away from the Wackos and starts man-handling me to be sure I'm not injured.  Jesus, first I get groped by two crazy chicks, then I get groped by a Dude.  Hotel security marches the chicks out, who are now both sobbing and shrieking how much they love me and pleading with me to let them stay.  Yeah, right.  Buh-bye, Freaks.

The other two security guys sweep the floor and find another girl hiding in the stairwell.  When she heard the commotion, me yelling and her friends shrieking, she was too afraid to come out.  Apparently they somehow got onto the floor,then opened the door to the emergency stairs and duct-taped over the catch so when the door closed it didn't lock.  Then they just hid out in the stairwell until they thought they might catch me or one of the other guys alone.

Guess it worked.

Anyway, so PK gets there and is fucking furious, and the Big Dog Hotel Manager comes up, and they all insist I get checked out by a doc because apparently Thing One got a little overzealous when she was sucking on my face and actually bruised my lip.  Sitting here holding ice on it now, trying to get the swelling down before the show tonight.

Quite frankly I'm not worried about my damned lip; she had a pretty damned good grip on Superman.  Thank God I had just finished working out and was actually wearing a jock or she may have yanked it clean off.  She sure as hell tried.

Never ceases to amaze me how far some of these chicks will go to get to me.  I had a few truly scary stalkers back in the 80's and early 90's, but they were the kind who mailed threats to the Fan Club with letters cut out from magazines and pictures of Dorothea with her face blacked out, that kind of shit.  Police and FBI handled all that; I never had to deal with it. There are a few restraining orders floating around out there too, but I don't deal with that either.  That's why I have lawyers and a security team, and Matty.  In all honesty I probably wouldn't recognize those people if I passed them on the street anyway.

Of course the Security Chief apologized profusely and said it won't happen again.  Yeah, you fucking got THAT right.  He said he had no idea how these chicks found out what floor we were staying on, let alone got up there on the express elevators.  I can tell him exactly how they got there, and I ain't no fucking detective.  They fucked or blew some room service waiter or reservation clerk in exchange for an escort up on the service elevator.  It's the oldest system of barter in the fucking world.  Pussy for privilege.  If a chick knows how to use what's between her legs she can get just about any damned thing she wants.

So now I'm sequestered away in a new suite on a different floor with two security guards in the hall.  They made a big damned show of hustling me away to this room like fucking Secret Service dragging off Obama, then they sent somebody to get my things from my old room.

Apparently I'm supposed to be "relaxing" because this was a very traumatic event and I have a show to do later.  Like I'm some damned Diva who is going to be forever scarred by a couple chicks mauling me.  Yeah, 'cause THAT'S never happened before, ha ha.  But I'm stuck in here until it's time to leave for soundcheck.

And I'm sure Mike will be stuck like glue to me for the rest of the trip.  He feels bad, like this was his fault.  It wasn't.  I'm not traumatized, I'm fucking PISSED.  This kinda breach is inexcusable.  Even if Mike had been with me on the elevator, these NutJobs still made it onto the floor, through hotel security.

So much for my good mood.  And when I call my wife in an hour or two I'm gonna get the scolding and "I told you so" lecture from her for not keeping Mike with me.  Fuck.  Maybe I need to play up the trauma angle, see if she'll give me a little sympathy...

Nah, she'll see right through it.  Fuck it all.  Why did I have to marry a damned human lie detector?

60 hours.  That's all I have to survive, until I'm headed home.

Thursday, December 16

3:10 am
My Room

Stumbling back in after a fun night.  Lyric show was good, lots of friends in the crowd.  Best part was I got to hide out before the show and didn't have to do press shit -- there were enough other Aussie stars that I didn't have to show my face until we took the stage.

Show was just what I needed, no pressure, just a short gig for friends and hangers-on.  Practically sleepwalked through it, though it didn't show.  My mind just wasn't quite there, with all that happened during the day.  I'm past the bitterness but still disappointed, of course.  That will take time.

The post-show party was damned fun.  Made the rounds, shook hands, took pics, then snuck off into a corner with the band and Russell and Sir Bob and just hung out, talking sports and music and family.  Russ and I played the "look at my kids" game with our iPhones.  His boy Charlie is a little pisser, just like him.  Can see his Daddy's mischievous sparkle in his eyes.  Just like me and Jakey, the apple don't fall far from the tree, ha ha.

Of course I couldn't escape the elephant in the room, the HOF news.  Everybody seemed to need to say "I'm Sorry."  What the fuck are they sorry for?  Wasn't their fault.  I just tried to be gracious and shrug it off, but I'm pretty sure a little disappointment showed through.  Sir Bob was the best, though.  He just clapped me on the shoulder, leaned in, and said "Ya know what?  Fuck 'em.  They'll get it right eventually."  That made me chuckle.

So anyway, we all hung out and shared a few bottles of wine, played a few hands in the casino, then everybody headed for bed.  We're Old Farts, after all, ha ha.  Got back to my suite and called Cate to say good morning and thank her for earlier, but got her voicemail.  She sent me her customary good morning text earlier, but I didn't see it until she was already at work.  She must be in a meeting.  Guess I'll have to talk to her later, after I get some sleep.  Miss her.


9:45 am
My Room

I GOT IT!

Know exactly what I'm gonna give Cate for Christmas.  Came to me while I was in the shower, thinking about next week.  Something she's gonna LOVE.  And if it all goes right neither one of us are gonna forget it anytime soon, heh heh.

Gotta make some calls.  And find somebody to take my picture.  Somebody who won't ever, EVER tell what he's about to see...


1:00 pm
Back in my Room

I'm Rodney Fucking Dangerfield.  I get NO respect around this place! NONE I tell ya!  I'm the Goddamn Boss and do you think I can just ONCE snap my fingers and get somebody to carry out one simple fucking covert task?  NOOOOOO.....

All I need is a little fucking discretion.  It's for a good cause -- my wife's Christmas present.  For my lovely wife Cate, whom everybody here knows and loves and respects.  But they fucking turn on me in a New York minute.  Now everybody's laughing their asses off at me, wolf-whistling every time I stick my head outside my door, smacking me on the ass, asking me to do my runway strut.  Fuckers.

Though I gotta admit if the tables were turned and this was Sambora I'd be ragging him mercilessly too.

Yeah, guess I didn't really think this through.  Was so excited that I came up with this great idea that I wanted to get started on it NOW.  In reality I could have just made the calls and waited until I got back to NYC for the photos.  But NO, I had to go charging off like the hard-headed Guinea I am... and now I'm paying the price.

Can't even trust my own Blood, Man.  What's this world coming to?  All I needed were a couple decent full-length snapshots.  Nothing racy, nothing pornographic, nothing sexy.  Just a head-to-toe shot of me standing in front of a wall.  I'm not stupid, I know better than to ask Richie or David to take these pics because that's just asking for trouble. Hughie was my first choice, but he's out golfing with Teek.  So I try to get ahold of Tony, he's not here.  Finally end up texting Matt.

Little Brother shows up to my room and promptly bursts into laughter when I explain what I need him to do and why.  When he stops laughing he demands a bonus 'cause photographing Big Brother in his skivvies ain't in his job description.  Just to shut him up I agree, though I know he's kidding and he knows there ain't no fucking way I'm giving him a penny for this.  So Matty fires up the camera, we have a quick little photo shoot, wardrobe changes and all, and then he asks me what to do with the pics now that they're on the camera.

Huh?  Well, shit.  Didn't think of that either.   How the Hell am I gonna get these pictures printed out and duplicated like I need to?  Not like we can waltz down to the local Photomat and have them do a one-hour job.  The pics would be in the press in about a second flat and I'd be laughed off the damned continent.

So Matty suggests I email them to Obie and have him print them and cut them down back home.  Probably the only useful suggestion he's made all tour.  And since I let Obie head back to Philly after the Kiwi shows he owes me.  Matt says he'll take care of it and disappears with the memory card from my camera.

I'm so fucking stupid.

Not realizing what I've just done I go about my business:  a couple calls for the Foundation, read through some emails, ignore some boring paperwork shit. About 45 minutes later Matty comes back and hands me my memory card, telling me it's all taken care of, Obie has the pics and will print and cut them, even giftwrap them and deliver them to me when I get home next week.  Of course he can't keep a straight fucking face, so I know something's up.  I ask him what the hell he did, and away he runs.  Coward.

A half hour later I get a call from PK, telling me I'm urgently needed in the press suite, something about a short-notice project.  I know we don't have press until later this afternoon, but of course I don't ask questions because PK is on the job, and if he says something's urgent it's urgent.  I stroll down to the suite and barge through the doors and find most of the band and team assembled around the table, looking solemn and worried.  Except Davey, who is smirking like he just fucking ate a canary.  That guy can't keep a secret for a second.

I ask what's up and sit down at the head of the table, then flip open the folder in front of me.  Everybody busts out laughing and my jaw hits the table.  I'm staring at a printout of one of the almost-nudie photos Matty took of me an hour before, mocked up like an album cover.  It's the proposed art for my new solo album,  "But At Least I Still Got My Hair."

Motherfuckers.  Richie was in tears he was laughing so hard at my expression.  Davey about fell off his chair in hysterics.  PK raised a toast to Little Brother Matt, who finally figured out how to get even for all the shit deals he had to handle for me.

Once I recovered from my shock I had to admit, it IS pretty damned funny.  And I'm a complete stupid fuck for leaving myself open.  I have nobody to blame but myself.   Apparently Matt took the camera card straight to PK and Richie and they jumped on Photoshop.  Then they all ran to the hotel business center and printed out a bunch of copies so they could share their creation.

So now I'm gonna hear about it for the rest of the damned trip.  I know it's all in good fun.  I'm not worried about it getting out or leaked to the press or these pics showing up on the front page of some rag.  It's all in the inner circle, and even though these guys will take every chance they can get to punk me, they know how to keep family business in the family.

And I know they won't tell Cate; they won't ruin my surprise.  Richie even admitted he was impressed by my idea and he knows Cate will love it.

But I'm not gonna live it down now.  Shit.  So much for being The Boss.



Wednesday, December 15

9:15 am
Sydney

Up & at 'em early again today.  Feelin' good.  Yesterday was a fun day, productive, everything went like it should.  A well-oiled machine.

Was a kick to do Oprah's show.  She's an amazing lady.  I thought we did things big, but Jesus Christ.  Apparently there's Big, then there's OPRAH-Big, ha ha.

Getting ready to head out for a run but first wanted to check in with Cate.  Just wanted to hear her voice, to see how her day was going.  Will call her for a little love & affection later, when she's home and ready to go to bed.  She's having a crazy day, felt a little bad about bothering her at work.  But it made my heart melt that she actually walked outside of wherever she was to take my call, and the first thing she said was "Hey Baby, I was hoping you'd call.  I needed to hear your voice."

That woman can turn me to mush.  And I'm not the least bit embarrassed to admit it.

We chatted a little bit, only about five minutes since she had to get back to fighting crime or whatever.  Sometimes just talking about nothing -- the weather, how I slept, what she had for lunch -- is so wonderful I can hardly express it.  Keeps me sane, her too.  There are so few people in your life you can really and completely share yourself with.  When you find that One it's such a comfort, such an amazing gift, that all you want to do is share everything with her, even the mundane bullshit.  For better or worse, in sickness and in health, through the glamour and the unsexy boring crap, ha ha.

I reminded Cate I'll be home in less than a week.  She giggled -- God, I love that little girlish giggle of hers -- and told me she's counting the hours too.  She even put a countdown clock on her Blackberry, T-minus-whatever until Hubby's Home.  That made me laugh.  She's taking next week off so she'll be able to give me her undivided attention.  Well, assuming there's no major catastrophe or crime wave and she gets called in to the office.

I know I'm gonna be upside-down for a week after I get there but I'm gonna spend every damned second I can with Cate, until I flat-out pass out from exhaustion.  I told her so, that I was just looking forward to going out to the Jersey house and laying around with her for a few days.  Cate kinda chuckled again, then informed me she has committed me to something in the City the day after I get back.  She apologized and said she knew I'd be exhausted but it's something she knows I'll want to do.

Maria Cole called Cate this morning and asked if we could attend a last-minute charity thing they're throwing together at the Fifth Avenue store.  It's for a group that provides outings for wounded soldiers, a cause near and dear to Cate's heart, so of course she said yes.  Apparently there's going to be a group coming up from Walter Reed Hospital in DC, all vets recovering from amputations and other traumatic wounds.  This volunteer group is bringing them and their families up to NYC to see the Christmas decorations and do some touristy stuff.  The Plaza is giving them free rooms, they're going to see the tree at Rockefeller Center, Rockettes, the whole deal.

Ken decided to close the Rock store early for a private event, kind of a cocktail party/fundraiser thing.  They're letting the vets come in and shop (for free, though they don't know it), and then attend the party which will be $1,000 a ticket, all of which goes to their program.  How could we possibly pass that up?  What a great idea and a fantastic cause.

Cate even offered me up as entertainment, ha ha.  That's my wife, prostituting me out when I'm not even in the same hemisphere.  Of course I don't mind in the least; I'll be happy to take my guitar and do a few numbers, even if my voice will sound like shit because I'll be all fucked-up timewise.

Though Cate usually doesn't enjoy the party/benefit scene, I know she'll love this one because of the cause.  She'll be among her own kind, ha ha.  My wife is so damned humble about her service to her country it almost breaks my heart.  I wish I was half the human being she is sometimes.

Of course, it won't bother her greatly that this thing is being held at the KC flagship store, either.   She may not particularly like to shop, but KC is one of Cate's few addictions.  When I introduced her to Ken she was completely awed, like she was meeting a rock star.  Never mind that she's MARRIED to one; apparently now I'm just chopped liver.  But Ken, he's Mister Big Shot, ha ha.  My wife is such a goof sometimes.  At least she has good taste in fashion, when she actually dresses like a girl.

But I like her in her ratty old jeans and football jersey, her hair up in a ponytail.  That's how I see her when I close my eyes and daydream.  Well, except when she's naked.

Anyway, looks like we'll be spending pre-Christmas Eve party at KC, one week from today.  Shit.  Guess that means I better get a move on with my shopping.  Got the kids taken care of, gonna just give Dorothea a gift certificate for that spa she likes.  Everybody in the company's covered, Mom, Dad, brothers and their families...

But Cate.  Still no damned idea.  What do you give the woman who could buy anything she ever wanted, but doesn't because she's happy with what she has?  Love her sensibility, but she's a complete pain in the ass when it comes to gift-giving.  Plus I blew the Tiffany idea yesterday when I went ahead and sent her the "I'm Sorry" necklace.  Fuck.

I better come up with something quick.  Maybe I'll be inspired on my run this morning, when my brain starts to wake up a little more.  Otherwise I'm gonna be that poor bastard roaming the streets on Christmas Eve, desperately searching for that last-minute gift and ending up with something ridiculous from the corner drugstore, ha ha.

Not that Cate would mind, as long as I was naked when I gave it to her.   Heh heh.

1:30 pm
Sydney

Well, it's unofficially official.  We're not in the R&RHOF this year.  Wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm not. All the political bullshit that goes with it.  Can't say I disagree with the inductee list, though.  Alice is finally getting his due, as is Waits.  About damned time.

Also wish I could say I'm not disappointed.  I am.  But realistically I knew in my gut it wasn't gonna happen this year.  We're too commercially successful to be taken seriously right now.

Like any of those fucking critics ever took us seriously.

Guess we can go ahead and release those April-May tour dates now, ha ha.  No reason to keep induction week open.

A lot going on today. We have the casino show tonight, so at least I don't have to sit around my room or the bar and brood.  Work to do.  Will be some friends there too, so at least we'll all commiserate together.

On a positive note, the White House put out the official press release for the Commission. I'm sure there's plenty of snark going on from coast to coast about me being on that list, too:  "What the fuck is a hair-band rocker doing on a Presidential Commission?"  Well, more than most of you who sit there and snipe about it, fuckers.  At least I'm trying to DO something, be part of the solution instead of sitting and bitching about the problem.

Okay, so maybe I'm a little more bitter than I want to admit.

Cate texted me to tell me she heard the news and she's sorry.  She's still at work, about to wrap up, said she'll call me when she gets home.

I wish we were together.  I could use her arms wrapped around me right now.  Wish I could share my raving and sulking with somebody who understands, who won't judge or belittle me for my moment of humanity.  Guess I'll have to settle for sitting here in my hotel room, staring at her picture on my iPhone while I scribble in my book.

Jess texted me too.  "Sorry, Dad.  Next year."  Thanks, Buddy.  Miss you too.

I don't even want to think about 2011 yet.  I just want to get home to Jersey, to my family, to some time off.  I want to play with my kids, talk to my daughter about graduation and college and (God Forbid) Brendan, take Jess to a game, play MarioKart with Jakey and Romey.  I want to snuggle up with my wife under the Christmas tree and dance with her on New Year's Eve and whisk her away for our little escape.  Just live and breathe and not worry about all the rest of this shit.

Next week can't come soon enough.


5:00 pm
Dressing Room, Sydney

My wife knows me so well it's scary.

So this afternoon I sat in my room brooding, staring at the wall, ignoring texts from Richie and Davey asking if I wanted to grab a bite with them before we headed out for the show.  Told Matty to go the fuck away when he pounded on my door.  Was in no mood to socialize.  Just sat here, letting my Italian blood rise from a simmer to a slow boil over yet another snub.

Then Cate does her thing and completely takes me out of my mood.  Even from halfway around the world she can take me from pissed-off to content in the blink of an eye.  Well, maybe a little more than that, but she still gets me there.

First she texts.  It's another photo like the one she sent me the other day, only this time in profile.  Gorgeous shot, dark and sexy, a black Tak and a sleek body.  This time it's a profile of my gorgeous wife fully nude, the curves of her breasts and hips and ass subtle in the shadows.  I know those curves.  Damn.  When did she do that?  How the hell did she get these shots?

Doesn't matter -- the pic is gorgeous and distracts me from my foul mood. I'm just ready to call her when I get another text.  "Wait." is all it says.  Just one word, but I know she's up to something, that she knows exactly what I'm doing and thinking.  It's like she's watching me on a damned closed-circuit camera or something.  

So I get up and make myself a drink, then slump back into my chair, waiting for the next text.  Two swallows of Tequila Sunrise later, my phone rings.  She makes me laugh with her first line -- "What are you wearing?"  When I tell her shorts and a t-shirt, I like her response:  "Take it off."

Holy shit.  Not at all what I was expecting.  But I sure as hell ain't gonna argue; I know better than to disobey my wife's commands.  Good way to get my ass kicked.  Besides, her telling me to get naked in my hotel room in the middle of the afternoon can only bode well for me, right?  Unless she's in cahoots with Sambora again, anyway.

Thankfully she's not this time.  I put her on speaker, per her instruction, then strip down.  She's got that sexy, dirty rasp in her voice, that tigress purr that makes me hotter than July.  She tells me to close the curtains.  Obediently and with more than a little excitement, I do.  She tells me to get out her scarf, the one I carry with me so I can smell her perfume, and get comfortable on the bed.  Check.  Scarf around my neck, propped up on the pillows, phone on the nightstand, hand on the disco-stick.... good to go.

Then my naughty minx of a wife proceeds to give me the dirtiest, most erotic phone sex I've ever had in my entire damned life.  She was like a woman possessed, I swear.  She got me to say things to her I didn't even know I knew HOW to say.  I can be pretty fucking dirty, but today I raised the bar, for damned sure.  

And Cate -- HELL.  She was in complete control.  I did every damned thing she commanded, without question or hesitation.  And Holy FUCK was it good!  I know it was good for her too... her moans and gasps and purrs and growls into the phone would have gotten me off all by themselves, let alone the... well... manipulations, I guess you would call them, she ordered me to do.  Christ, I don't know where that side of my wife's personality came from, but I hope it comes back.  Soon.  Repeatedly.

Anyway, once I shot my wad and came back down to earth she texted me another photo, this one of her lying in our bed, all flushed and happy and relaxed, her hair swirling around her head on the pillow.  She looked so beautiful it almost broke my heart.  She asked me to send a pic of myself, lying in my bed, so I did.  I didn't look anywhere close to as sexy as she did, but she humored me and insisted I looked gorgeous as ever.

Then she told me to tell her everything, all I was feeling.  Just to let go and get it out.  So I did.  I laid there naked and poured out my soul.  And she just listened, told me over and over again how she understands and how much she loves me and that my disappointment is justified, but that no matter what my family is always there for me.  That I'm her Superman, and I always will be.

God, I love her so much.  She gave me exactly what I needed, body and soul, from half a world away.  

So we cuddled together in our separate beds and talked about spending our holiday break together, whispered a few more sweet nothings to each other, until finally she started to fade a little.  I kissed her goodnight, told her for the thousandth time how much I loved her, and asked her to dream of me.  "You know I will, I always do," she says.

Then I let it go.  All the frustration, disappointment, anger... it ain't worth it.  I'm a damned lucky man, with an amazing wife and a wonderful family and the best fucking job in the world.  I'm gonna finish what I started here then go home and close out the best damned year of my life so far.

No time to wallow in self-pity. There's life to be lived.

Gotta go to work now.

Tuesday, December 14

2:30 pm
Brisbane

Gorgeous day here.  Hot and sticky, just like I like it.

Busy busy morning.  Flew in to Sydney last night, got up this morning and hit the ground running.  Breakfast, a couple conference calls for the Foundation, workout, taped Oprah's show, hit the plane, wheels up.  Lunch in the air, reviewed the schedule for the rest of the week, did some paperwork.  Hotel here, took care of a few personal things, including a little online shopping.  Heading for venue in about an hour.

Still not ready for Christmas, but I'm getting there.

Most importantly, got the arrangements finalized for a little time alone with Cate.  She insisted we stay in Jersey until after New Year's to spend time with my kids, but once they're back in school I'm gonna steal her away for a few days all to myself.  Three days is all we could work out, but three days is better than nothing.  But we'll ring in the New Year together in style, probably at Count Basie with Southside.  She'll like that.

Best of all, what I cooked up is a surprise.  I refused to tell Cate where I'm taking her, other than that it's not far away and it's somewhere we can relax and just be together.  Sentimental fool I am, I know she's gonna love it.  As for me, we could go to fucking Hoboken for all I care, as long as we're together.

Talked to her just a few minutes ago, not long because she was tired.  She thanked me again for the flowers and giggled a little when I told her she was only a mouse-click away from getting a little blue box from Tiffany before she revealed her little prank.  She of course told me I didn't have to send her anything at all, but I know she loves getting flowers from me.  Think I'll go ahead and send the necklace too, just because.  She deserves all the pretty things I can give her, and then some.

She's having a Hell of a week so far, and it's only Monday night back there.  The Madoff thing is tragic, but it has even wider repercussions in terms of the ongoing lawsuits and investigations.  Cate's gotten called into the Bureau's case because of her financial crimes expertise.  Weird it happened in our building; I knew he lived there but we never had any interaction.  Sad.  Another baby growing up without a Daddy in this fucked-up world.

Anyway, Cate said she's gonna be working crazy hours this week so it may be hard to catch up with her.  I told her I'm still a little concerned about her because of what happened last week with Dorothea and Steph; she of course told me not to worry.  But as she said it I still heard that little note of sadness in her voice.  Dammit, I need to get to the bottom of this.  Maybe she'll finally confide in me when we're back together, hidden away together in our private little paradise.

She was drowsy, drifting a little, so we whispered a few sweet nothings and said goodbye.  I'll call her again after the show, when she's waking up.

I'll be back home in a week.  Counting the minutes.

Monday, December 13

2:00 pm
Melbourne

Hanging out by the pool for awhile.  Much better experience today.  I woke up feeling about a thousand percent better than I did yesterday morning.

Just got off the phone with Cate.  All is forgiven, but she made me work for it.  Well, not really, but she had me going.  She's a  naughty minx, that wife of mine.  If she and Sambora ever truly join forces against me I might as well fucking surrender and beg for mercy.  There would be no hope for my survival, ha ha.

Finally got the balls to call her yesterday, around bedtime her time.  She didn't answer.  I left her a message that started out "Baby, I'm soooooo sorry..." and groveled from there.  It ended with a whiny plea for her to call me and say goodnight because I miss her so much.

So after I left that message I realized I had to drag my ass back up to my room because there was a thunderstorm rolling in.  Perfect.  Even Mother Nature was conspiring against me yesterday.  Made it back to my room somehow and crawled back into my bed.  Well, I was never in it to begin with I guess, so I actually got under the covers and just laid there in the dark, listening to the wine slosh around in my brain.

Then my phone goes off.  It's a text from Cate.  With a picture.  A picture of ME, sitting in one of those big plush chairs at the Rhino, a glass of wine in one hand, a cigar in the other, eyes as wide as saucers, and a giant shit-eating grin on my face.  And at the edge of the photo you can see a smooth, bare hip with a tiny little green strap across it.  The redhead.  And I look like a kid who just saw Santa Claus come down the chimney.

Fucking Richie.  He texted a pic of me to my wife.

So I realize I'm REALLY in deep, and I haul myself up off the bed and stumble over to the computer.  Despite the light from the screen burning into my retinas I manage to send the biggest, most expensive bouquet of flowers on Flowers.com to be delivered to Cate at the Jersey house, stat.  Then I get on Tiffany.com and start looking for diamonds.

My phone pings again -- it's a text from Cate.  All it says was "Worth it?"

Fuck me.  I just KNOW I'm a Dead Man -- and I didn't even really do anything wrong!!!  I immediately try to call her, get her voicemail, leave another groveling, sniveling message, and text her back that I love her and I'm sorry.  I spend the next half hour staring at my phone, silently begging it to ring or beep or something to let me know I'm not going to have to spend the rest of my life trying to atone for my sins.

Finally the phone rings and I realize maybe it's not a good thing.  I'm overwhelmed with dread, can barely croak out a "hello."

"So, you had quite a night." she says.  No "Hi Baby," no "Are you okay," no "Fuck you, you miserable horny Rat Bastard."  I swallow hard and just start blabbering, just spilling my guts and begging her to believe me, that I didn't do anything wrong, I thought of her the whole time, it was all Richie's fault I was there.... and on the other end of the line, there's just silence.  So I take a deep breath and promise never to ever ever ever go to a strip club again, or to even fucking look at another woman, except for when I have to onstage, and to spend the rest of my time on tour locked in my room reading the fucking Bible.

Finally I run out of apologies and confessions and I just sit there, waiting for the shoe to drop.  Waiting for Cate to tell me how disgusted she is with me and how she's never gonna be able to trust me.  My heart is in my throat, I'm sweating bullets, and I want to charge down the hall and kick the fucking shit out of Sambora for diming me out.  And what does my wife say?

"Gotcha."

I could hardly fucking believe my ears.  "What?" I ask.  Then I hear that sexy, throaty, beautiful laugh in my ear and my entire body tingles.  "Gotcha, Baby." she says again.  Then she proceeds to tell me that Richie told her the whole story, about how all I did all night was whine about missing my wife and tell him over and over and over how that sexy redhead stripper reminded me of Cate.  Fucking Richie KNEW this would be the ultimate Punk, and that Cate would get in on it in a heartbeat.

Fucking traitor.

Anyway, so Cate teases me a little more, tells me she loves me and she trusts me completely.  Besides, she says, she'd know if I was lying to her in a heartbeat, with her training and interrogation skills.  Even from half a world away she'd know from the first word out of my lying mouth.  She tells me she knows I'm a man, boys will be boys, she's glad I'm out having fun, and that she misses me too and she'll give me a lap dance to remember when I get home.

Hell Yeah.

Christ, talk about breathing a sigh of relief when that call was over.  She really had me going.  I was ready to kick Sambora's ass, but by the end of the call I was laughing at the whole deal.

Oh, and the mystery of why I was barefoot in the car was solved too -- apparently Sambora also sent Cate a video clip of me completely shitfaced, jabbing my thumb up against the sole of my foot, announcing to the rest of the assholes in the car that I desperately needed to find my "cum-button" because my dick was so hard I thought it was gonna break off.

Yeah, with friends like these, who needs enemies?

Anyway, all in good fun, it's over and done.  At least until I figure out how to get even.  With Sambora, not with Cate.  I'm just gonna keep sending her presents and thanking my lucky stars I have an awesome wife with a sense of humor.

And I'm still looking for that damned spot....

Sunday, December 12

5:30 am
My room i Hope

Just got back to my rom.  can't see straigt.  Room spinning.

I'm stupid stupid stupid stupid.....

fucking Sambora.  BAD Richie.  Bad Bad richie.  He alwys does this to me.... Fucker.

Ha ha hahahahahaha

but sure was fun


1:25 pm
Hell and/or Doghouse

My fucking head is going to fucking explode.  And I think somebody cut out my liver. Jesus Fucking Christ I'm too old for this shit.

Fucking Sambora.  WHY do I listen to him?  WHY?  After all these years I should KNOW better.  I know HE knows better.  He just likes to get me in trouble.  Stupid fucking piece-of-fuck prick of a best friend.

Hoping the sunshine will dry me out some.  But can't get dehydrated.  Water.  That's all I can take right now.  Workout is out of the question.  Can barely move, let alone run.  Just gonna lay here by the pool with my shades on until my head splits in two and my brains pour out onto the concrete or until Mikey comes and carries me back inside.

If that waitress comes over here and asks me if I want a drink I'm gonna puke on her feet.  Just more water, that's all I want.  Keep it coming.

Whoever said you have less of a hangover with expensive wine is a fucking LIAR.  The only thing better about expensive wine is it goes down easier.  Too Goddamn easy.  Just keep sipping and sipping and sipping and next thing you know there's a g-string on your lap and a pair of tits in your face and you can't stop grinning.

Goddamn Sambora.

And apparently I drunk-dialed last night.  When I finally found my phone today there was a text from Cate, sometime around 4 am local, saying 1) Are you okay? 2) How was the lap dance? and 3) Call me when you sober up.  Haven't been brave enough to call her yet but I'm gonna have to soon.  It's almost her bedtime and I can't let her go to sleep without telling her I love her and miss her.

And maybe that I'm sorry.... I should probably just start with that right up front though I'm not sure if I should be sorry?  No, I AM sorry.  I'm always sorry.  For whatever it is, I'm just.... sorry.

Crap.  Did I do anything she'd be pissed at me about?  I didn't black out -- I vaguely remember calling her and saying something about how sexy and wonderful she is before Richie took my phone away.  Shit.  If he talked to Cate I'm really sunk.  And I KNOW I didn't do anything out of line with the girls.  I was good, didn't touch anything I shouldn't... I don't think.  And I know they were very well-tipped.  Damned Davey was waving around bills like they were confetti.

Fucking Spearmint Rhino.  If there's one in a hundred-mile radius Richie will find it.  And reserve a private room.  And pay for lap dances all damned night.  Then he stays sober and laughs his ass off at the rest of us as we get plowed.  Evil Genius.

Jesus, there were some damned beautiful women in that club.  And they had skills for sure.  There was a blue-eyed redhead with full, pouty lips who was wearing some kind of cat-collar or something, and a green g-string.  She had perfect, beautiful tits.  I couldn't stop staring at her--she reminded me of my wife.  My wife hanging upside down from a pole, my wife swinging from a trapeze, my wife draped across my lap with her tits in my face, my wife straddling me and riding me like Secretariat...

Watching that redhead gave me one hell of a boner.  Like I needed that, with Cate so far away and me in no shape to get myself off.  Of course I wasn't gonna let that dancer do it for me -- I'm a married man, for Christ's sake.  I can look but not touch or be touched.  Well, within reason.  When you get a lap dance you have to be touched a little, ha ha.  And this chick had it going on--she just batted her lashes at me and made me hard.  Christ was she sexy.

Oh yeah, that's why I called Cate.  To tell her she was sexier than any woman in the place and that I couldn't wait to get home so she could dance for me.  I remember now.  Shit.  Great fucking idea, Johnny.  Good intention, bad execution.

Maybe it's a good thing Richie took away my phone. But Cate has a sense of humor, and she's not the jealous type... She's never minded before when I've gone to a Gentlemen's Club.  But then again I've never called her, drunk off my ass, to tell her how hot the dancers were, either.

Oh Hell.  I'll just keep practicing my "I'm sorry."  And I'll order flowers.  And jewelry.

God knows what kind of shape I was in when we finally staggered out of that place.  I do remember going out the back door through the VIP entrance, and getting in the car.  And for some reason I decided to take my shoes off in the car.  I remember walking into the hotel barefoot, carrying my boots.  WTF?

We all made it to our rooms and had a nightcap in Davey's suite.  I remember going to my room and trying to get my damned key to work and it wouldn't.  Tony heard me cussing at the door and came out and unlocked it for me, then made sure I went in.  He is his brother's keeper, apparently.  Thank God.

I remember going in my room and closing the curtains, and it was already getting light out.  Then I guess I passed out.  Woke up at noon face-down on the bed, on top of the covers, naked as the day I was born.  Good thing the Housekeeper didn't walk in on me.  She would have gotten the full moon, ha ha.

Ow.

Well, guess I lived up to the Rock Star image last night.  And today I'm paying the price.

God knows how much more it's gonna cost me with my wife.  Gonna have to man up and call her soon.

Fuck.

I need a nap.

Saturday, December 11

2:00 am
Melbourne

Tonight was one of those shows that made me remember how much I love my job.  It was all good, from the second the house lights went down until the last step off the stage.  Magic.   I left it all out there on that stage; I'm completely physically and emotionally drained.  Even the post-show festivities didn't mellow me out this time.  But I'll be ready for tomorrow night.  Just some sleep and some recharging, and it will all be good.

Wish Cate was here to see this one.  She was in my heart all night, maybe that's why I played so much of The Circle.  She loves Thorn and Only Rule. I could see her smile when I was singing them.  And of course, Superman.  Her song.  I think when I call her later to say goodnight I'll play it for her.  Just to remind her of long, long ago and far, far away when it all started for us.

I miss her.

1:15 pm
Hotel

Getting ready to head over to venue, do some press, some glad-handing.  Another night in Melbourne.  Gonna be a good show, I can feel it.

Just got off the phone with my wife.  She sounds tired, a little down.  I asked her about going shopping with Steph tomorrow and she said it's off.  Dorothea said no.  Cate didn't say why, but I could tell from her tone she didn't really want to talk about it.  I'll get the story tomorrow.  Just hope everything really IS okay between Cate and Dorothea.  I'd like to think D wouldn't hold a grudge over what happened, but you never can tell.  The one thing I do know is I don't need to get in the middle of this, whatever it is, though my first instinct was to call D and ask her WTF was going on.

Biting my tongue.

What Cate said next surprised me even more.  She's at the Jersey house.  Said she got done with court before lunch and since her weekend plans with Steph aren't happening she decided to get out of the City for a few days.  Made the excuse that she wanted to spend some time with her dog, but there's gotta be more to it than that.

She drove out right after lunch, spent the afternoon wandering around Red Bank, picking up a few Christmas presents.  Says she's going to spend tomorrow being sure the place is all set for the family when I get back; finishing up decorations, checking on menu for dinner, etc.  If the weather's nice, she said she may go riding.  It's been awhile since she's been on a horse, she misses it.  I know she does, but she's not at the big house to play with animals or prepare for holiday cheer.

She's there to withdraw into herself, like she does sometimes.  She's there to think.

I wanted so bad to crawl through the phone and wrap my arms around her and hold her.  To listen to her and help her work through whatever's bothering her.  But I had to settle for telling her about 50 times that I love and miss her, and for playing her song for her.

She knows me so well, my Cate.  She listened and stroked my ego and told me I had cheered her up, and that I need to go get my head on for tonight's show.  She's right about that -- I do need to get my head in the game.  But not before I remind her one more time that I'm the luckiest man in the damned world to be her husband.

I promised her we're gonna go away somewhere after Christmas, just the two of us, even if it's just for a couple days.  She said she doesn't feel like laying on beach or crossing an ocean, and in all honesty the thought of another hotel room makes me sick to my stomach.  We need to go someplace where we can hide away from the world, where nobody will notice us, where we can just wrap ourselves up in each other and breathe.

I think I know the place.

Tomorrow I'm gonna make it happen.  But first there's work to be done.  Time to put on the Superman cape and go do my job.

Love you, Baby.  I'll be home soon.